Fake (West Hollywood 1)

I licked my lips and sat up. “Come closer.”

“No.” He shook his head, grabbing my hands and drawing me to my feet. “You’re going to ride me, Norah.”

“Am I now?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He took my place on the bench with a charmingly lecherous smile. They should really put that one on billboards. Women would flock to his films by the billions. At least, I would. Hands gripped my hips, urging me onto his lap, holding me steady. I rested one hand on his shoulder, the other lining his cock up with my entrance. Talk about a great idea. With the water raining down and the steam filling up the space, it was glorious.

The thrilling slide of his dick going deep into me had me catching my breath all over again. How thick and good he felt. Not to mention his mouth was right there, ready and waiting. Mouth damp and swollen from going down on me. Like a hero. The dark need of his gaze as he watched me was exhilarating. His fingers dug into my ass cheeks, helping me work myself on him. We should never not end the day this way. Loving Patrick was perfection.

And that’s what it felt like. Love. A little foolish and a lot fast, I know. Though I didn’t have it in me to deny it right then. Later I’d be sensible and put some much needed distance between us. When I wasn’t busy losing myself in him. Sex didn’t have to mean anything, but this did and I couldn’t fake it. Not in the moment.

So I claimed his lips in a hot opened-mouth kiss. Our tongues entwining. The perfect distraction. All the while, I rode him faster and harder as his hands demanded. Nothing but friction mattered. The way it lit me back up inside. Coming is an excellent antidote for unwanted feelings. Everyone knows that. My nails dug into his back and the man all but snarled at me.

I wanted to watch him come. I wanted his come in me. Because getting messy with this man had become my everything.

With a muttered curse, he slipped a hand between us. Him and his tricky fingers. In no time at all, my insides were clenching at his cock, my whole body overrun with the need to reach that height again. I sobbed and clung to him, fucking myself onto him. No hesitation. Nothing else mattered. He clasped my hips tight again, urging me on, using my body to get himself off. I gasped and he groaned and we both won that one. Together.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I woke up to the usual assortment of nice to crazy messages. This included an urgent one from Angie sent at five a.m. Not good. But I couldn’t face it until I was fully awake. I wouldn’t. Drama would not rule my life. So I dressed and headed out to the kitchen for coffee before reading it. Fortification via caffeine was required before I faced the day. After all, if it had waited this long, then a bit longer wouldn’t hurt.

Patrick had been insistent about us having some downtime. Taking it easy. Something told me this was him still protecting me after the home invasion. Given how huge yesterday had been, this wasn’t a bad thing. And quiet time with my man sounded awesome.

Note: Referring to him as my man within the privacy of my own skull was okay. But problematic if I let it out of my mouth. We hadn’t even had the are-we-exclusive talk yet. Any and all claims made by me on his person would have to wait.

And none of this mattered when I found Mei standing in the entry talking to Liv Anders. Yes, Liv. In the flesh. Her eyes were red, though her makeup remained perfect. Not only was she gorgeous, she was also half my size, which was just plain rude. If this was the competition, I didn’t stand a chance. There could be only one reason why she’d be here in this state after everything that happened. She wanted Patrick back. And who could blame her?

Too bad I didn’t know to dress for the occasion. Armor would have been better than my slim jeans and white tank. Because even if her life was falling apart, the woman was going down in couture. We’re talking immaculate black pantsuit and stiletto heels. I’d never felt so insignificant and average. Not that I’d ever admit to it. At least if my life was about to be ruined, it would be by someone in Prada. A much higher class of destruction.

“Oh,” said Liv, staring at me. Like she hadn’t expected me to be here.

Mei pressed her lips together. “Norah, this is Liv.”

I nodded.

“I was just explaining to her that Paddy is out jogging,” continued Mei. “So it might be best if she called him and came back later.”