How the girl next door looks when I fill her. When she takes me in all the way. She looks spectacular, all sex-drunk and needy, her lips parted, her knees hiked up.
Open to me.
I move in her, swiveling my hips, pushing deeper, pulling back, then plunging in again.
Her hands slide up my chest. “This feels so good,” she whispers.
“Feels amazing,” I murmur as pleasure crackles along my spine. “Feels fucking incredible.”
Her arms loop around my neck, her fingers playing with my hair. Even that touch ignites sparks across my skin. “Because it’s you,” I tell her as I pick up the pace, moving faster, listening to her body.
She arches her back, moving with me as we find our pace.
When we do, I bend closer to her, my lips dusting across hers. My shoulders are tight. Tension, exquisite tension, radiates through my muscles as I fight off my own release, focusing on her, only her.
And on the words I just said.
Because it’s you.
Only, that’s not entirely true. This is spectacular, the sex, the connection, the unholy pleasure.
But not because it’s just her or me.
“No, Summer. Do you know why it’s so good?”
“Why?” she asks as she gasps, her voice cresting to a needy cry.
As I move in her, I pull back to look at her face. Her brown eyes are glittering with lust and something else.
Something deeper.
Something far more powerful.
Something that lasts.
I bury my face in her neck, whispering against her ear, “Because it’s us. That’s why it’s so good. Because we’re so good together.”
“Ohhhh,” she calls out, rising up, her hips bucking, her voice catching, her sounds reaching the ceiling. Then she’s losing control, and it’s beautiful—absolutely beautiful and erotic to watch her fall apart beneath me.
And I follow her there, chasing my pleasure to the other side of bliss too.
Soon, I’m lying next to her, panting, sated, drawing lines with my fingertips down her warm skin when my phone rings.
I have half a mind to ignore it, until I realize it’s Jane’s ringtone.
I grab the phone from the floor and answer. “Hi, Jane. What’s going on?”
She clears her throat, and a pit forms in my stomach. “Well, love, it seems that America’s Best Boyfriend is now America’s Fakest Boyfriend.”
35OLIVER
That pit? It becomes a cavernous maw as I read. It’s like rubbernecking, and I can’t stop.
This time, it’s worse. Far worse. Because there’s a GIF someone made of Summer splashing water at me, saying, “You’re evil! You’re laughing at me. You’re a terrible fake fiancé.”
And that’s all it takes.
@ManCandyFan: NO!!!! It was all fake???? They were fake dating? They were faking us? No, no, no.
@LovesListsofMen: Do you mean YES???? It means he’s single.
@GossipLover1andOnly: Single and going right back on my Single and Hot in the City list.
@ManCandyFan: Put him at the top. But also, NOOO!!!! They were such a cute couple.
@CheetahNoah: They seemed real to me. So real. I don’t know about this new intel. Are we sure? Like, really sure? Super sure?
@MenAreJerks: He’s a douche. This proves his douchiness.
@PeopleAreJerks: Um, hello? She’s a douche too. She’s just as bad. They both lied to us. They totally lied. And I’m sad, sad, sad, but not surprised.
@ILoveJerks: I love liars. They are so hawt.
@IloveCockyJackholes: OMG, yes. Liars are like the hottest guys ever. They lie, and they look good lying. And he sure looks delish lying.
@DownwithDouches: Look at this picture of them eating cookie batter. I hate them.
@ILoveJerks: Would eat cookie batter off his chest. Even with raw eggs in it.
