Page 33 of The Fake Out

“I try,” I joked.

He nuzzled my hair. “I love your hair like this.”

“I told you I like to switch it up.”

“It’s Bulldogs colors.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Still, I love it.”

My alarm blared on the bedside table. I turned it off and laid back on the bed with a sigh. Shit, I didn’t have time to run home and change. Eddie and Alex bought the storefront on South Street because they lived above it. I kept clothes there if I stayed in the city and didn’t have time to go back to Drakesville. My first client wasn’t until noon, so I could take a shower there. It wasn’t ideal, but I could manage.

I shouldn’t have had sex with Blaise again, not that I regretted it, but it was going to make things more complicated. Which was even harder when he was so hot and knew exactly what I liked.

Blaise’s hand stroked across my hip, and I mewled at his touch. His lips curled up into a cute smirk. He had to know he was trouble for me. But he didn’t care, and neither did I when he gave me as many orgasms as I wanted. That’s why I didn’t protest when he cupped my face and pressed his lips against mine.

I sighed into the kiss, loving how he took charge by angling my head and kissing me deeper. I could get used to Blaise Holmstrom kissing me, especially if he took me rough like he had last night. I opened for him when his tongue slid across my lips.

“Blaise,” I moaned when he broke the kiss so he could nose across my neck.

“What’s the matter, sweets?”

“Morning breath.”

He smiled on my skin as he traveled down my body. He gave me a cocky grin as he muscled his way between my thighs. He looked good right there.

“I don’t care,” he said. He pushed the t-shirt up my body, dipped his head down, and parted my pussy with his tongue. And then I was done for. Yet again.

I arched up and felt him laugh into me. With one firm hand, he held my stomach down on the bed as he licked me thoroughly. My phone vibrated on the bedside table, but I could give exactly two fucks while this hunk of a man was between my thighs, sucking on my clit and about to give me another orgasm. I hadn’t even asked him to do that. He just immediately went to town, eating me like it was his last meal. Like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of me on his tongue.

He pushed my legs further apart until I was spread eagle for him. He was splitting me apart with that mouth of his, and I was pliable for him. I’d let him do whatever he wanted if he kept licking me like that.

“Come for me, sweets,” he purred.

I looked down at him and nodded vigorously. I was almost there. So close, I felt that tingle down my spine with my orgasm right on the edge.

But my phone kept ringing. I shoved it off the bedside table.

Blaise laughed. “Do you need to get that?”

“DON’T CARE!” I panted out and bucked my hips back up to his mouth. “Finish eating my pussy, and then we can have morning sex.”

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned but did as I asked.

He pressed me back against the mattress, and I arched my hips up as he took me over the edge. I didn’t think about clamping my hand over my mouth while I cried out his name.

He fumbled in the drawer beside me and frantically rolled a condom down his cock while I was still catching my breath post-orgasm. His boxers were around his ankles, and I was still wearing his shirt when he nestled himself between my thighs.

He pinned my hands above my head and linked our hands together to use as leverage as he thrust inside me. I cried out at the sensation of him filling me up but rocked back against him, needing the sweet friction of his body on mine. He stared into my eyes as he glided out and then back in like he wanted to savor our connection while we had slow morning sex.

“Come with me?” he pleaded.

I nodded.

I squeezed my legs tightly around him and met his every slow movement. He pressed my hands into the bed while he hit me deep, finding the secret spot that made me unravel into a pool of pleasure. I cried out at the same time he groaned his release into my ear.

I melted back into the bed at that male guttural noise of ecstasy. I’d never tire of the moans he made when we were joined together. At the way I made him growl and grunt while we were pressed so tight against each other.