Page 8 of Fake Dating the Next-Door (Curvy Wives of Cedar Falls #6)

A virgin. Sunny is a virgin.

This woman… This bright, beautiful woman, is trusting me with something precious. Something I didn't expect and don't deserve, but something I suddenly want more than anything.

"Your first and your last," I repeat, the words taking on deeper meaning as I say them again. Because that's what I want—to be the only man who ever touches her like this, who makes her feel this way. I want to claim her, not just for tonight but for all the nights to come.

This isn't pretending anymore. There's no audience, no charade to maintain. This is real. The way my heart pounds when she looks at me, the way her touch both calms and ignites me, the feelings I've been fighting since she moved in next door.

I take myself in hand, stroking once from base to tip, watching her eyes widen as she follows the movement. Then I position myself at her entrance, feeling the heat and wetness there.

"Ready?" I ask, my voice barely recognizable.

She nods, and I push forward slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort as I ease into her tight heat. The sensation is overwhelming. She's so tight, so perfect around me.

Sunny throws her head back, teeth sinking into her lower lip as I fill her completely.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, forcing myself to remain still when every instinct screams at me to move.

"A bit," she admits, her voice breathy. "But nothing I can't handle. Just... give me a moment."

I wait, trembling with the effort of restraint, my hands stroking her hips, trying to help her relax. After what feels like an eternity, she moves toward me, and I feel her body yielding, accepting me.

I place my hand under her chin, lifting her face to mine. "You're perfect," I tell her, meaning it more than any words I've ever spoken. "Your body is perfect."

A blush spreads across her cheeks, down her neck to her chest. She squirms beneath me, and the movement nearly undoes me.

"Fuck me, Garrett," she says, the profanity sounding like poetry on her lips. "Please."

I don't need to be told twice. I begin to move, establishing a rhythm that starts gentle but quickly builds in intensity. Each thrust draws a soft sound from her that urges me on, makes me want to hear more, to give her more.

"God, Sunny," I groan, picking up speed. "You feel so good."

My hips snap forward with increasing force, and her response is immediate—back arching, nails digging into my shoulders, legs wrapping tighter around my waist.

"More," she gasps. "Please, more."

I give her what she asks for, driving into her harder, faster, watching in awe as pleasure transforms her face. Sweat trickles down my chest, glistening on the curve of her breasts. I bend to taste her there, tongue capturing the salt of her skin.

Part of me still can't believe this is happening—that I'm buried deep inside Sunny Bloom, that she's welcoming me, wanting me.

That someone so young, so full of life and possibility, could desire someone like me.

Someone with scars both visible and hidden, someone who's seen the worst humanity has to offer and carries those memories like stones.

Yet here she is, looking at me like I'm something desirable. Her hand extends, fingers caressing my cheek with such tenderness it makes my chest ache. I lean into her touch, turning to press a kiss to her palm.

I slow my pace, making each thrust powerful, driving as deep as I can go. The change in tempo draws a new sound from her—a gasping, needy moan that vibrates through me.

"Garrett," she breathes. "Oh God, Garrett."

It's been too long since I've been with anyone, and the intensity of feeling her around me, of watching her come undone beneath me, is pushing me rapidly toward the edge. Heat builds at the base of my spine, my muscles tensing as I fight to hold back.

"Sunny," I warn, my voice strained. "I'm close. I need to pull out."

Her hands grip my ass, holding me to her. "Don't," she pleads. "I want all of you. Every part. I want to feel you."

Her words short-circuit whatever rational thought remains in my brain. The idea of emptying myself inside her, of marking her in the most primal way possible, is too powerful to resist.

A few more hard, deep thrusts and I'm gone, release crashing through me with an intensity that leaves me gasping her name. I feel her inner walls contracting around me as she follows, her body arching off the couch, head thrown back in ecstasy as she finds her own climax.

For a moment, we're suspended in shared pleasure, connected in the most intimate way possible. Then I collapse beside her, careful not to crush her with my weight, and pull her against my chest.

We lie there catching our breath, her head tucked under my chin, her curves fitting perfectly against my angles. I run my hand along her spine, marveling at the softness of her skin.

"That was..." she finally murmurs against my chest, trailing off as if words are inadequate.

"Yeah," I agree, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It was."

She shifts, looking up at me with those bright eyes. "I couldn't have asked for better."

"I'm glad you think so," I say, tracing patterns on her shoulder. "Though I'm guessing I'm not the type of man you expected to lose your virginity to."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm older. Damaged. Not exactly the carefree type."

She props herself up on one elbow to look at me properly. "Do you think that matters to me?"

I shrug, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. "I just want you to know that this wasn't just... I'm not just..." I take a breath, forcing myself to be direct. "I like you, Sunny. A lot. Have for a while. I don't want to pretend anymore."

Her eyes widen. "You like me? But I always thought you hated me. You were always so grumpy when I tried to talk to you."

"I'm a good actor," I say with a hint of a smile. "Truth is, I've been drawn to you since the first day you moved in, dancing around your living room while unpacking boxes."

She blushes. "You saw that?"

"Hard to miss. You had the curtains wide open and were using a hairbrush as a microphone."

"Oh God," she groans, burying her face in my chest. Then she looks up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You're really good at pretending then. But I was interested in you from the moment I saw you fixing your fence shirtless. I'm just glad we can be ourselves with each other now."

I brush a curl from her face, suddenly serious.

"You should know what you're getting into.

I'll have bad days. Nightmares. Sometimes I react to things in ways that don't make sense to people who haven't been where I've been.

" I need her to understand this isn't going to be easy.

"But I'll always work hard for you, Sunny.

I'll do everything I can to make you happy. "

She cradles my face in her hands, her expression earnest. "That's all I want and need—a man who makes me happy. Everything else? We can work through it together."

Something in my chest loosens at her words. For years, I've kept people at a distance, convinced that my baggage was too heavy for anyone else to help carry. But looking at Sunny, feeling her warmth against me, I wonder if maybe I've been wrong all this time.

I try to give her a genuine smile, the gesture feeling rusty and unfamiliar on my face.

"Are you trying to smile right now?" she asks, a teasing note in her voice.

"That obvious, huh?"

"A little." She traces my lips with her finger. "You have a beautiful smile, Garrett. You should use it more often."

"I'll work on that," I promise, capturing her finger and pressing a kiss to it.

As I look at her—wild curls even wilder now, lips swollen from my kisses, eyes bright with a mixture of satisfaction and affection—I'm struck by how lucky I am. Against all odds, against my own stubborn resistance, I've found someone worth fighting for. Someone worth staying for.

I pull her close again, "Spend the night with me," I murmur against her lips. "And tomorrow night. And the night after that."

Sunny smiles, "Are you asking me to be your actual girlfriend, Garrett Stone?"

"I'm asking for a lot more than that," I admit. "But we can start there."

"Yes," she says simply, pressing her lips to mine. "To all of it. Yes."

As I hold her against me, feeling her heartbeat steady and strong against my chest, I'm filled with a certainty I haven't felt in years. This isn't the end of something, but the beginning, messy and complicated and more perfect than I deserve.

And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that, with Sunny Bloom in my arms.