Page 68 of The Fake Out
The second we sleep together, Hartley’s done with me.
We have something. I know we do. I think about her telling me she was proud of me after my game and the way she laughed with me at the team party.
And now she’s wearing the lingerie I sent her, looking like a goddess sent to tempt me? After she admitted that the gift I got her made her feel hot, hitting the brakes was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She looked like mine, wrapped in pale blue lace that I bought.
Possessive instincts charge through me. We’re not moving on yet, though. No fucking way.
So I lied, and now she’s hurt, and there’s an ache in my chest that only grows by the second. My mouth opens to say something, but she lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Rory, please.” Her expression is vulnerable like in the gym the day she met with Connor and asked me to give her space. “I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t make me feel worse. I know you date women who look different—”
“What?” I’m on my feet, moving to her. “What are you talking about?”
Two pink patches appear on her cheeks, and she won’t meet my eyes. “I’m just saying that compared to the women who usually date hockey players,” she waves a hand over her body, “I look different. I have a normal body. I’m okay with it, and I love my body, but you don’t need to drive the stake deeper.”
“Hazel.” Her eyes go wide as I back her against the door, pressing a hand to the surface over her head, caging her in. Blood beats in my ears.
How could she think that? How could she think she’s anything less than perfect? How could Ilether think that? Since I ran into her last year, I haven’t touched another woman. Next to her, no one’s as funny or hot or interesting or entertaining.
My fingers circle her wrist and I bring her hand to my erection, watching her eyes flare with heat.
“Does that feel like I’m not interested?” I demand, and her hand twitches on my cock, making my balls ache with need. “Does that feel like I don’t think about your body a hundred times a day?”
Her lips part, and I capture her mouth. She kisses me back hard, and relief sweeps through me, followed by intense need.
I’m going to show Hazel how wrong she is. I’m going to worship every inch of her.
Once will never, ever be enough, though.
So maybe we don’t go all the way. Maybe I draw it out, take it slow, and never, ever give her enough, so by the time we finally have sex, she doesn’t give a shit about her rule anymore.
Maybe I wait until she falls for me.
“I’m mad at you,” I tell her, breaking the kiss, and her eyes widen, confused and outraged.
“What? Why?”
“Because I’ve practically had my tongue down your throat for months, and you still think I’m not interested.” I press my hips against hers, pinning her to the door. “Maybe I need to be more clear, Hartley.”
Interest rises in her eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“This rule of yours.” I trail my fingers down her chest, brushing over her bra, over her tight nipples beneath it, and she sucks in a sharp breath. “Tell me the specifics.”
I draw slow, soft circles on her breasts, and beneath my fingers, her chest rises and falls faster.
“Um.” She blinks like she’s having a hard time focusing, and I press my erection harder between her legs. Her lips part, and I smile.
“Full sex?” I prompt. “Me inside you? That’s the rule?”
She nods, gaze clouding as she sinks her teeth into that full bottom lip.
“So if I were to go down on you, that wouldn’t count.”
She mumbles something.
“What’s that?” I lean in, and my mouth tips up.
“I said no one’s gone down on me in a long time.” She bristles with irritation, and I smile wider.