Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80197 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Celine makes easy work of the drink, but I savor my beer, scanning the bar to see who's around. Eddie's best friend is in the corner, speaking to a girl. When he raises his head, our eyes meet, and he tips his head in greeting. Then he notices Celine, and his eyes widen.
"We've been noticed." I lean close to Celine's ear, brushing my lips over the sweet shell and relishing the shiver my touch elicits. There’s something about our connection, a different level of awareness between us that I haven’t found with anyone else. It’s what prompted me to suggest this fake date. I want a chance to get in between Celine’s legs again and find out if a second night with her will be as explosive as the first. She’s the only girl I’ve wanted more of after a one-night stand. "Want to put on a good show?"
"Yes." Her agreement is a breathy whisper, and her hand on my chest is gentle encouragement. I dip my head and press my lips to hers, savoring the softness of her lips and the slide of her tongue. As I move deeper, she grips my shirt, wrapping her lean, toned, and very bare legs around my waist. I press hard against her pussy, using a hand to urge her hips closer to mine.
With no care for who's around us, she grinds up against me, moaning softly.
"Get a room," a deep voice says from behind us, but I don't stop. It's too good, and the memories of how much better it gets when I'm up inside her spur me on.
It's Celine who pushes against my chest, bringing the kiss to an end. My mouth separates from hers, wet and bruised. My cock is thick and hard, a bar against my boxer briefs. Her mesmerizing green eyes blink; dazed and confused. I feel the same.
"Remembering how good it was?" I tip my head to the side and fold my lips into my mouth, tasting her again. I shoot her with my most smoldering look, sure that my arrogance is part of what turns her on. It's what all girls seem to like. Treat them well, and they run a mile. Dangle them from strings so they don't know whether you like them or not, and they want to marry you.
"Yep." It's said with no pretense, which catches me off guard.
"I know this is a fake date, but we could make it a real one-night stand?"
Celine stifles a smile. "You're a real Romeo, you know that?"
"Didn't Romeo fall in love with an underage girl, have a three-day relationship, and then kill himself?"
Celine snorts, frowning in confusion. "That's a pretty dark summary of an amazingly romantic play."
"It’s not a romance. It’s a tragedy, and that doesn't answer my question."
She narrows her eyes and then glances around the bar to see who's noticed us. I keep my eyes on her, not caring about the observers. All I want to know is whether she's coming home with me tonight.
"Eddie's friend is on the phone."
"Oh, really. Want to give him something else to tell his asshole cheating friend?"
I lean in again, and she holds me back. "You're seriously going to tell me you never cheated?"
With my nose brushing against the tip of hers, I tell her the truth. "I don't date, so cheating isn't a thing."
"You mean you don't commit?"
"Exactly."
She kisses my lips again as though she's assumed this isn't going anywhere apart from the fake date arrangement and is happy about it. She's probably right. Relationships are bullshit. People just latch onto each other and then spend the rest of their lives trying to tear each other apart. It's better to just enjoy what there is to enjoy: a few stolen moments, some shared passion, and a little surface-level connection. Then part with happy memories we'll both smile about in a few years.
God, I want this girl in my bed.
I pull back, gripping her mane of chestnut hair in my hand, tipping her face up to mine. "Do you think we've made enough waves here?"
She nods, and then her eyes flick to the left. "Can I get a picture before we go for socials?"
I grit my teeth because social media is my pet peeve. It's just a load of fake people faking their happiness or empathy to make everyone else feel bad about their lives or about themselves. I don't like people taking photos of me, either. I like to move through the world living in the moment. Looking back is for people who've had childhoods filled with blissful memories, and that isn't me.
But Celine is all wide, pleading eyes, and for some reason, with her, I don't want to say no.
She pulls her phone from her purse and holds it over our heads the way influencers do to reduce their jowls. I don't look at the camera but rest my forehead against the side of her head so that only a portion of my side profile is visible. Celine seems content with the image because she quickly uploads it to Insta while I finish my beer. I don't have an account to check who's responding to it, though.