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She licks her lips. “Uhm, that’s good to know, I guess. You know, in case, uh, the subject of sex comes up. Somehow.”
“Right, for the fake relationship.”
She clears her throat and speaks in a rush. “Scott never went down on me. Not a single time. He never cared if I got off, even though he let me suck his dick all the time and insisted that I swallow. Not that I minded, but still. He got off, but I didn’t, and I always resented him for that. He was into sex, and thought I was hot, but he couldn’t have cared less about whether I got the same pleasure as him. That’s about my experience with, uh, you know, sex stuff. Now you know.”
I slow the treadmill until it stops. I stare at her, heart racing, doing my best to keep my cock from getting rock hard. Which isn’t easy. The thought of her lips wrapped around my tip, of her down on her knees sucking me off with that pretty mouth, making those whimpering noises—fuck, I need to get it together.
“If I were in his position, I would make sure you come on my tongue every single night,” I say and realize just how much I mean it. I’ve been fucking with her, teasing her, riling her up for fun. But it’s beginning to backfire. As I stare into her eyes and watch the sweat roll down her lovely skin, down over her breasts, down her toned stomach and long legs, I realize how much I really would love to taste her. How much I crave that whimper as she digs her fingers through my hair.
“Good to know,” she says quietly.
I stare at her and begin to walk again. Otherwise I’m going to get hard. She licks her lips and her eyes drift down my body. I’m sweating now and she’s noticing. I like that she’s looking. I like that she’s aroused, maybe as much as I am.
But no sex. That’s the rule.
Not that I particularlywantto make this fake relationship messier than it already is. Fiona’s beautiful, yes, and I want her physically, but she’s still a mess. There are a dozen reasons why I don’t want to get even more tangled with her.
Still, the idea of her rubbing her soaking wet clit against my tongue—
Fuck, I need a cold shower after this.
“I should go,” she squeaks, turning on her heel. “Good talk.”
She marches out.
Her door slams.
And there’s no doubt in my mind she’s in her bed right now, giving herself the orgasm she deserves.
Fuck, that girl is trouble.
But she’s right: we need to get to know each other. Not just sexually, but in every way I can think of. I need to know her likes, dislikes, hobbies, tastes, habits. All the stuff a husband would know intuitively.
And I have two days to do it.
Time for a crash course in Fiona Kane.
Chapter14
Fiona
Ido my best to keep pace with him, but Gareth pushes all my buttons.
We jog through downtown, heading toward the river. “All right, questions time,” he says as the sun rises over the skyline.
He woke me up early. Three sharp knocks on my door. It scared the crap out of me—yanked me right from sleep—and I nearly rolled out of the unfamiliar bed.
Still getting used to my new situation.
When I finally crawled into the hallway, heart racing, in nothing but a pair of shorts and a practically see-through tank top, I stared at Gareth, pretty sure the place was on fire.
No reasonable, rational human being would pound on someone’s door that early otherwise.
But he only stared at me with that intense glare of his. Like I was the one that woke him up or something. Eyes roaming down to my chest.
Only to find out that he woke me for a predawn jog. “I expect you dressed and ready in ten,” he said before storming off again.
The fucking prick.
