Page 15 of Faking It


  started to circle around me.

  The music changed to something a little slower. I slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her into me. Our hips locked together, and I placed a hand on her hip to guide her into a circular motion. My thigh fitted between hers and hers between mine until we were as close as we could possibly get. She rolled her body to one side, and I leaned the opposite direction.

  The air around us was warm and sticky with sweat. She rocked her hips into mine, and I had to clench my teeth to keep in a groan. Moving with her was amazing, but every once in a while she would move in a way I didn’t expect. Our hips were so tightly pressed that the friction her movements caused had me seeing stars.

  I pressed her backward, and with zero hesitation and no self-consciousness, she dropped her head and body backward in a dip. I kept her steady with an arm around her waist. With her body leaned back, I got a clear view of her tight stomach, the black bra beneath her white shirt, and the delicate column of her neck. I couldn’t resist reaching out and running my hand from the front of her throat around the back. I cradled her neck in my hand, and used it to propel her back up to me. She wrapped both arms around my neck, so that her chest was pressed tightly against mine. I simplified our movements because being pressed against her was better than any dance move that would have moved us apart.

  I could feel the sweat collecting on my skin, and it glistened on hers, too. I kept one hand curved around her neck and the other ran in a loop from her thigh up to her rib cage. I sighed, wishing that I could freeze this moment, wishing that we were somewhere else. Her face was level with my neck, and her forehead pressed into my jaw. Her breath on my neck was an exquisite torture.

  I thought briefly about this being an unwise decision, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I knew from the first time I saw her with Mace that they meant nothing to each other. There was no gravity between them, not like there was between us. No matter how hard we tried to keep ourselves apart, we always wound up right back here.

  I thought I had that kind of pull with Bliss, but now I could see that I was wrong. We would have been perfect together, another notch in my pursuit of the “right” life. That’s what I was in love with . . . not my friend. Bliss had been exactly what I thought I’d wanted. A friendship evolved into something more. Loving and kind. Sweet and safe.

  Max scared me shitless.

  And it was so much better.

  I could finally say that the past was the past, and the present was so much more appealing. I slid my hand on her neck up until her hair threaded between my fingertips. Her arms tightened around my neck, and her lips brushed my jaw.

  I stiffened for a second, worried that I was making the wrong choice.

  Almost as if she could hear my thoughts and was trying to shut them up, her teeth grazed my skin, followed by a firm press of her lips.

  If this was a mistake, it was the best one I’d ever made.

  26

  Max

  I followed his lead and slipped my fingertips into the curls at the base of his scalp. His other hand slid from my hip to the small of my back and snuck underneath my tee. His hands pressed into my skin, and I was taken back to the night he’d treated my injuries, and how badly I had wanted to do this then.

  His face tipped down toward mine, and he breathed, “Max.”

  There was hesitancy laden in his voice, and I knew what he was thinking. He was about to get noble. He was going to pull some shit about this not being good for me or me needing time or whatever. He was overthinking something that was so simple.

  So I made it simpler for him.

  I shifted up on my toes and kissed him.

  His resistance must have been thin, because he was kissing me back immediately. The hand under my shirt slid farther up my back until his fingers met my bra strap. He used that arm to pull me up onto my tiptoes. It lined up our hips perfectly, and I moaned into his mouth.

  He kissed like he lived—perfectly. His mouth searched mine feverishly and thoroughly, like he needed to taste every part of me. Oh how I had underestimated tender kisses. This kiss was a slow burn that had me squirming against him, ready to beg for more. He placed a light peck on my mouth, and then nipped my bottom lip. His mouth pressed harder against mine, and the kiss crescendoed into something fierce and addicting.

  Even though I didn’t want to, I broke away to breathe. His lips dropped to my neck instead, where he kissed and bit and sucked, driving me wild. All the feeling in my body was concentrated on the area where our bodies intersected, so that the rest of me felt weak and lifeless by comparison. My legs shook, and for the second time, he was the only thing holding me together.

  Last time it had been because I was in pain.

  The only pain I felt now came from the ache in the pit of my belly that wanted more. I pulled his head up from my neck and pressed my forehead to his.

  I wondered if my eyes looked as dilated as his. There was a good chance that he would say no, but I was too far gone to care about rejection.

  “You said you lived close to here?”

  I’d been prepared for a fight. I thought he would shoot me down, but his eyes searched my face for a few seconds, which was a few seconds too long for my liking.

  Then he nodded, and my uterus did the butterfly or possibly the running man.

  I kissed him again because I could. I’d meant it to be quick, but his hands cupped my face, and he kissed me hard. I fisted my hands in his shirt and prayed that he lived extremely close.

  When he broke away, his voice was husky. “I can’t say no to you.”

  Perfect.

  “Then don’t.”

  The door to Cade’s apartment clicked shut behind me, and I leaned back against it. The wood was cool against my back, and I shivered. My heart thumped radically in my chest. I felt like my blood had been replaced with Red Bull. He stepped toward me, and I felt feverish.

  I searched his eyes, and my stomach dipped like I was falling.

  I hadn’t even been this nervous my first time.

  I hadn’t been this nervous ever.

  He fixed his eyes on me, and desire outweighed my fears. The way he looked at me made my skin sing with electricity. It wasn’t just that he made me feel attractive. Any guy on the street with wandering eyes or a good whistle could do that. He made me feel . . . special, which sounded so damn cheesy that I could choke. It was true though. I knew myself better by knowing how he saw me. He erased the doubt and the fear and the anger. He made me feel like the melody instead of the accompaniment.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  I couldn’t quite get a handle on his expression. It was full of wanting, but whether he wanted me to say yes or no was unclear. I had no problem adding a little clarity to the situation. Rather than answering with words, I reached down and pulled the white tee up over my head.

  His eyes followed my shirt to the floor. Then he took his time scanning from my heels up to my face. He crossed to me, and I pressed back against the door, needing the support. My whole body tensed in anticipation, but he kept nearly a foot of space between us. He plucked the strap of my bra between his fingertips, and his knuckles grazed my skin. The air in my lungs started to burn. He began to slide the strap over my shoulder, and then seemed to change his mind. His eyes met mine instead, and he gave a dark half-smile. Then he said, “Take it off.”

  The breath rushed from my chest, and I was so turned on that my fingers went numb. He leaned one arm on the door next to me, so that when I reached behind my back, my chest brushed his softly. I kept my head tilted back so that I could see his face. He was so close, but too far, and the longer he stayed there the more uneven my breathing became. I fumbled with the clasp, unable to force my fingers to cooperate. I was ready to rip it off when the clasp finally came undone, and the straps fell from my shoulders. I leaned back against the wall, and let my bra drop to join my shirt. The door behind me was cold against my overheated skin, and the peaks of my breasts hardened.
>
  His right index finger touched the skin just above my belly button, and my muscles tensed on instinct. He’d found one of the roots to my tree tattoo, and his light touch followed it until it met up with another line. He followed that line down to my hip, and then back up to the hollow of my rib cage. He took his time, tracing each line, and his touch was so soft that goose bumps rose up on my skin. He danced over the sensitive skin on my ribs, and I sucked in a breath.

  He made a sound low in his throat in response, and I was going to sink into a heap of frayed nerves and arousal if he kept at this. Finally his attention turned to the trunk of the tree that grew up in the valley between my breasts. I arched my back, desperate for him to touch me somewhere more substantial. He used two fingers to push on my sternum and pressed me back against the wall.

  “Patience, Angry Girl.”

  I groaned, and he smiled.

  “You don’t know how much I’ve thought about this tattoo. I want to memorize it so that every time I close my eyes I can see the way it accentuates your body.”

  For the briefest of seconds, both of his hands cupped my breasts, and I moaned in response. But then he slid his hands up to my shoulders, and held me back against the door.

  He placed a kiss on my puckered frown and said, “I promise to pay this much attention to every part of you.”

  It was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life, to sit there, still and silent, as he traced each branch. The tree spanned my chest, but always stopped a few inches shy of where I really wanted his touch. I wanted to grab his hands and move them myself, but I liked him being in control too much.

  When he finished, my skin was flushed and my breath heavy. My knees grew weak, and my hands clutched at the door behind me. Our eyes met, and his lids were heavy and his pupils dark. I felt intoxicated. Everything in the world but him was blurry. Everything in the world but him disappeared.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  A “please” slipped from my mouth, and he rewarded me by pulling me forward until my chest pressed against his. It was good, but he was still clothed so it wasn’t enough. I reached greedy fingers toward the bottom of his shirt, and he lifted it over his head for me.

  He loomed over me, one hand perched on the wall on either side of me. It was reminiscent of the night he’d kissed me outside of Trestle, but the view was so much better this time. His chest was broad and tanned, and gave way to rippling lines of muscle on his abdomen. But my hands went straight for the V of muscle that started above his hips and disappeared down into his jeans.

  Mace had been fit, but on the skinny side.

  Cade was . . . God, he should just stop wearing clothes altogether. I would fully support that. A little impatient, I slipped a finger under the waistband of his jeans and tugged him forward. The first touch of his skin on mine was like lightning. I could feel the charge between us building.

  After that, slow became a thing of the past.

  His mouth crushed down onto mine. His hands left the door to tangle in my hair, and my back hit the wall with a loud thud. There was nothing sweet or delicate about this kiss. The guy who’d traced the lines on my skin was replaced with someone hungry and desperate. His hands held me in place as his lips conquered mine. I gave myself up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  He released my hair, and I whimpered at the loss, but then his hands found my thighs. He bent his knees and curved his fingers around the back of my legs. He lifted, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I clenched my arms and legs around his body, and I could feel the length of him pressed up against my center. My breath caught in my throat, and his hips bucked into mine. My lower back hit the door again, and I was happily trapped. His tongue traced my collarbone, and I fisted my hands in his hair. He cupped my behind and kept our hips locked tightly together.

  His mouth moved down my chest, but he was too tall to reach where both of us wanted him to be. There was a small dining table to the right, and he spun and laid me down across the top. Then he bent and took the tip of one of my breasts into his mouth.

  I cried out and arched up into him. His hands slipped beneath my back, and kept me there, my body bowed up toward his mouth. He flicked his tongue over the peak, and then traced a branch on my tree to the other side. The tension in my belly was so strong that I was going to fall apart from this alone.

  I used my legs around his waist to pull his hips to mine and begged, “Please.” Cade ignored me and continued pressing kisses across my chest. I forced his face up to mine and said, “I thought you weren’t able to say no to me?”

  He ducked and placed a quick kiss on my sternum and said, “I’m not done exploring this part of you.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him up so his chest aligned with mine. “Explore that part of me later.”

  His smile was so damn sexy.

  “I like the sound of that, but I also like hearing you beg.” I pulled his face to mine and covered his mouth with mine. Between kisses I whispered against his lips, “I like you when you’re a little less golden.”

  He pulled me up off the table, so that we stood in the middle of his living room with my legs wrapped around his waist. For once, this put me looking down at him. I pushed some of the curls off his forehead and gazed down at him.

  He was beautiful in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. I’d been with plenty of attractive guys, but he was different. He was movie star gorgeous. Untouchable. Just to squash that thought, I touched my fingers to his lips. He was mine for tonight at least, and I was sure as hell going to enjoy it.

  “I want you,” I murmured. “How many times are you going to make me say please?”

  He turned and started moving toward a door that I hoped led to his bedroom.

  “I think that one did the trick.”

  27

  Cade

  She looked so good spread out on my bed. I hadn’t had nearly my fill of kissing her, but I was just as impatient as she was. She uncurled her legs from my waist, and I knelt on the bed between them. I reached for the button on her shorts and slid them and her tights down her legs. Her hips were perfect. Her legs were perfect. And the black underwear that matched her previously discarded bra were pretty damn perfect, too.

  Something devious glinted in her eye, and she pushed on my abs until I stepped off the bed. Then she kneeled at my feet, and unbuttoned my jeans. Whatever blood was still left in the rest of my body rushed south. I fisted my hands at my sides to try to stay in control, but when my jeans and boxers hit the floor it was a lost battle. Her mouth was heaven and hell all at the same time, and the tables of control turned so fast that my head was spinning.

  “God, Max.”

  I groaned and laced my fingers into her bright red curls. I couldn’t make up my mind what I wanted more. Part of me wanted to take our time, while the rest of me wanted to screw going slow. There would be time for all this later.

  It was torture pushing her back, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. I pulled her up to stand in front of me, and slid her underwear down over her hips. She was so gorgeous that it hurt to breathe. She sat on the bed and scooted back toward the pillows. I wanted to follow, but I made myself stop and grab a condom from my nightstand. Then I crawled toward her until my body hovered above hers. I hesitated, knowing how powerful the press of our bodies would be. Her eyes were closed in anticipation, and she was biting her kiss-swollen bottom lip. I pressed my lips against hers and sucked that bottom lip into my mouth before lowering myself into paradise.

  I started slow, mostly because I was trying to memorize the way she felt around me. I hated that she’d been with that asshole, Mace. I hated that he’d seen her like this, but I was happy to know that she was mine now. I took her hands from around my neck, and laced our fingers together. I pressed her palms down into the mattress at the same time that I rocked my hips into hers. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, and she tilted her head back. I wanted to hear her, so I did it again, harder.

&nbs
p; She bit her lip, and let out the smallest whimper. Each time I pressed into her, her reaction was a little less inhibited. I ran my hands from her knees, down her sweat-slicked legs, to the curve of her bottom. I snapped my hips forward and pushed up on her hips at the same time. She twisted and arched beneath me, moaning my name. The sound of it nearly pushed me over the edge, but I made myself slow down.

  “Max.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me from under half-lowered lashes. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then rocked my hips again. Her eyes closed, and I slowed my movements again.

  “Look at me, Max.”

  She whimpered but did as I said. The next thrust made my vision go spotty, and though her body contorted underneath mine, and she tried to tug her hands free from my grasp, she kept her eyes open.

  There was too much pleasure, too much want, too much beauty beneath me. There was too much everything. The world seemed to expand to accommodate the power of that moment. Something shifted between us—small and ineffable—but we ceased to be whatever we had been before and became something new.

  I saw the same wonder in her eyes that I felt in my chest.

  Then I saw the fear chasing on its heels.

  I saw her start to close off, and knew I needed to do something. I took hold of her hips and flipped us over so that she was on top, so that she was in control.

  Her eyes were closed, and when she opened them that flicker of fear was gone. She smiled and pressed her palms into my abdomen. She shifted her hips over mine, and breathed. “I had a dream about you like this once.”

  Damn.

  It was my turn to groan, and the thought of her dreaming about me was so sexy that I had to grasp her hips and still them until I got myself under control. She leaned over and kissed me. The press of her breasts against my bare chest didn’t do anything to help me, but it was too good to push her off. After a minute, I lifted my hands and let her move again. She sat up and raised her arms above her head to tangle in her hair.

  The sight of her like that was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen, and I didn’t think I would forget it as long as I lived. It also made it hard to hold on. I slid my hand to where our bodies met to help her along, and she slammed her hips down hard on mine in response.

  If I were an artist, I would paint her just like this. She reminded me of the spirits and nymphs that populated so many of Shakespeare’s plays. She was wild and free and inhumanly beautiful. The only other time I’d seen her this vibrant was when she was onstage.

  Her legs squeezed around my hips, and her hands dropped back to my chest. Her fingernails scraped down my stomach, and I bucked up into her. She threw her head back, and I pressed my fingers harder against her. Then she moaned, and my world was awash in color and heat and . . . God, she was so tight.

  Her eyes met mine, and they shone dark and glassy. I sat up and held her to my chest. Her body convulsed around mine, and I pressed my forehead against hers as I gave in to the pull.

  I don’t know how long we stayed there, wrapped around each other, foreheads pressed together, gaze locked. It could have been minutes or years. All I knew was that I never wanted to move. Our bodies fit perfectly together, like a lock to a key. I kissed her, soft and slow. I didn’t want to think past the feel of her skin or the curve of her hips or the smell of her hair. But for now, I would settle for lying side by side with her in my arms.

  28

  Max

  I was relaxed and numb and glorious.

  Until I wasn’t.

  Until the glow faded, and I was assaulted my all the thoughts that my mind had been too preoccupied to think before. His arms were tight around me, secure and comforting and caging all at once.

  Sex had never been like that for me. It had always been about bodies and sensations and simplicity. Sex with Cade was confusing. It was adding one plus one and getting an answer other than two. It was more than it should have been, and it threw my world off balance.

  Cade got up to go to the bathroom, and I slipped my panties back on, and then went to the living room to hunt for my shirt. Cade’s place was the opposite of mine. He had pictures of friends and family on walls and bookshelves. Those shelves actually had books on them, along with mementos and keepsakes that apparently meant enough to him to bring all the way to Pennsylvania with him. His place felt homey. It felt nice and comforting, just like him.

  Unease flitted around my chest, but I pushed it down. I tiptoed back to Cade’s room, and my nerves started to rattle. I stared at the rumpled sheets on his bed and just couldn’t make myself get back inside it. Cade was wonderful. Mind-blowingly wonderful. Tonight had been one of the most intense moments of my life.

  But that was the problem.

  We’d known each other ten days. I looked at the clock, and it read 3:00 A.M. Make that eleven days, but still . . . eleven days. There at the end, he’d looked at me in a way that no other man ever had. I couldn’t even put into words what that look had done to me.

  It wrecked me, completely.

  It was so honest and raw that it made the rest of my life feel fake and insignificant in comparison. Everything was changing too fast. Even now, thinking about it, I felt like something in me was disintegrating faster than I could hold it together.

  I jumped when Cade’s arms wrapped around my middle. His chest pressed into my back, and he placed a few kisses down the side of my neck. His touch was almost