Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend 1)

“Nothing.”

“Really? So, you’re sticking to the you’ve been busy lie? At least when you were avoiding me a few weeks ago, you gave excuses. This past week has been radio silence.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Surprised you’ve noticed with all the time you’ve been spending with Matt. The tabloids love you guys. You’re going to be the it couple of football.”

“What has Matt got to do with it?” His eyes widen. “Wait, are you jealous? Mr. You-Should-Hook-Up-With-Everyone-Except-Me doesn’t like that I’m spending time with another guy?” He breaks into a smile, and it pisses me off.

“No. I’m wondering why you’re bothering with me when you have Matt.”

Maddox shakes his head. “Skylar’s right. You are an idiot.”

“Huh?”

“Matt and I are just friends, you jackass. Last weekend, I went to visit him because the way he was outed was so fucking wrong I wanted to make sure he was okay. He was a wreck, so I invited him home for the weekend to get away from the vultures circling him. I had my own family drama going on, which if you’d answered any of my texts, I would’ve told you about, and so we stayed in a motel room—with two beds—under my name so Matt wouldn’t be followed. But when I visited him in Philly, I had to give my name, and someone leaked it to the tabloids or the paparazzi overheard; I’m not entirely sure. They found out where I was from and tracked us to the motel. Nothing happened.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Then Matt came to New York to talk to you, because his current management team is screwing him over in contract negotiations. I thought you could use a client considering you don’t have any.”

“Oh.” Apparently, my whole vocabulary consists of only this word now.

“I recommended you because you’re not a dick. Guess that was a wrong assessment, huh?”

Yep.

“You want to act all jealous when you’ve made it clear nothing can happen between us, that’s okay. But don’t be an idiot. There’s a high-profile client within your grasp. Don’t let me be the reason you don’t pursue it.”

I stand completely stunned and unmoving, barely even blinking. Maddox scoffs and pushes past me. My head screams at me to stop him, but my body doesn’t move. Only when he reaches the door, do I find the courage to get my feet going in his direction.

“Maddy.” My hand goes over his head, pushing the door closed so he can’t escape, and he turns to face me.

This close, we share the same breath, and we’re both breathing hard. His eyes are either hooded or narrowed; I can’t tell if he’s angry or turned on, but I don’t give him a chance to let me know which, because I move in and fuse my mouth to his. He accepts it willingly—eagerly.

Resisting him has made the buildup to this more explosive. His tongue, his lips, his mouth seeking mine, it’s as natural and inevitable as magnets finding each other.

I tried to be strong, I tried to hold back, but I know now it would’ve been impossible to keep up forever.

His back hits the door. Our tongues tangle, and there’s no hesitance on his part. He dives in fully, and he tastes the same as I remember but better. He’s either recently cleaned his teeth or chewed on gum, because his mouth is minty.

With my hips pushed up against his, I can feel him hardening. My body instinctively rocks into him, and I’m hard as an iron bar. All he’s done is kiss me.

Weeks of thinking about doing this again has my hands shamelessly wandering all over him. I grip his hair and tilt his head back while my lips trail down his neck. My free hand finds its way to the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Damon—”

“Can’t talk now.” We need to, but I can’t.

“Okay.” He clears his throat. “But I was going to warn you that I’ve been fantasizing about this since I met you. I’m already close to coming.”

A growl gets stuck in the back of my throat. I kiss him again and pull him off the door. Without breaking our lips apart, I drag him over to the bed. The voice yelling at me to slow down gets pushed away by my needy cock. The rational side—or maybe it’s my horny side—reassures me this isn’t like what happened with Eric. Maddox is sober. He’s been interested for over a month; this isn’t a fleeting experiment … At least, I hope it’s not.

But the biggest thing that keeps running through my head is what he told me in his apartment: he’s not Eric.

I push him down and land on top of him, our mouths moving in sync. It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone I’ve forgotten how awesome kissing is, but it’s not nearly enough. Not with Maddox.