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Filthy is better.
I need to come quickly and quietly.
With my sole focus on fixing this issue, I close my eyes and think of the sight I just witnessed. Austen’s big body blocking the door to the bathroom. His thin shirt clinging to tight nipples that were obviously hard. I trail down the memory of him until I reach the band of those sweats.
My fist picks up speed. A whimper escapes without permission. I bite my lip to stop anything else from slipping through.
The picture in my mind shifts to that beautiful monster in his pants. I imagine him rubbing his palm over it as he gives me a salacious look. He’d tell me he doesn’t want to fake anything, then he’d tug the band of those sweats down to reveal every glorious inch of skin.
Dream Austen has barely pulled himself free when my orgasm tears through me. I yelp, then bite the fist of my free hand as rivulets of come pour onto the floor.
Godammit. I’m an idiot.
Should have gotten a towel before starting this. Or even aimed it somewhere it could go down the drain. Anything that would have prevented me from needing to clean up the evidence of my downfall.
Because that’s all this can be.
The dream of Austen seeing me as more is foolish. He’s not into me that way. This is merely a favor.
Stick to the plan, Cor. Nothing more.
With that thought, I go about using the restroom and washing my hands before tucking back into the couch.
My pep talk lasts as long as it takes for my head to hit the pillow. It’s then I get a hint of Austen’s scent — a soft musk mixed with the mahogany and teakwood lotion I know Tenn gifts him each year for his birthday. Austen made a comment about liking it once, so it’s been my best friend’s go-to ever since.
I wish I had a guaranteed gift for him like that. Something I knew he liked without a doubt.
Instead, I have a heart full of longing and a fake dating arrangement.
Definitely not the better bargain.
The next morning goes well. Things are stilted with my hangover since I can’t keep up with Tenn’s jokes as well. Neither Page brother mentions it though.
We eat and drink coffee while I try to decide what comes next.
“Work might be crazy today. I’m not sure how late I’ll have to work after class. Corrin, would you like to keep my car today so you can travel as you need?” Austen asks right as I take a sip of my drink.
His voice comes out even and steady, which makes the spit take I give even more awkward. I avoid looking at him as I mop up the mess, then I take a breath before answering.
“I think Tenn could probably keep me company and drive me around if need be. There’s no reason you need to be without a vehicle.”
Tennyson chuckles. “While that’s true, you’re forgetting something.”
I raise my brow to signal him to continue.
“We’re dating, Corrin,” Austen says instead. “How is anyone going to know this fact if we don’t go out together in public? You taking me to school will help with that.”
“Oh.” My reply is stilted. I feel stupid for not thinking of that. I let my lusty thoughts take over, and in an effort to try to avoid time alone with him, I overcompensated.
We have to be alone together at some point anyway. Tenn can’t chaperone us. Not when he thinks this is fake on both sides.
I mean, it is. I know that.
This is fake.
It’s just the feelings on my side that are real.
“Ok, so we drive to campus and hope people see us. Or do I need to get out and walk you to class?”
