Page 45 of Fool Me (Timberline Peak #1)

He looks around at our friends. “It more than feels like home, it is home. Today was really fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirms.

I abandon my seat, taking over his lap.

“Maybe it would have felt that way at some point either way, but meeting you made it so much easier. You helped me find my spot in Timberline Peak again.”

I kiss him soft and slow because I can do that now for no reason other than I want to. So I do. A lot, apparently, because Aspen groans next to me. “If you guys don’t stop, I’m going to end up lonely and send a ‘you up’ text to the hot doctor tonight, and I don’t do that—I make him come to me.”

I chuckle against Atlas’s lips.

“Have people stopped asking you about taking checks yet?” I ask, a little off topic, as I think about how we started.

“It seems that was the one thing fake dating you couldn’t fix.”

“Turns out I’m not a miracle worker.”

There are more bags and food, good music and laughing while we wait for the sun to go down so the fireworks can start.

Just like he promised, Atlas inches our blanket away from our friends while no one is paying attention and kisses me until I’m ready to leave them all in my yard and sneak inside with Atlas for our own grand finale.

But I don’t because we’d never hear the end of it, and I want this moment for us—the normal everyday stuff that’s made better by having him to share it with. Instead, I settle for kissing under the stars and a hickey that I’m going to have to cover with makeup.

When the final bang fades, everyone helps clean up before heading home. We say goodbye from the porch as thunder rumbles in the distance and sends our friends running for their cars. We retreat just as quickly and Atlas has me backed against the front door before Briar and Denver are out of sight.

“I have half a mind to make you put that bikini back on so I can pull it off with my teeth like I was dying to do all day.”

I slip my hand between us, cupping him. “Aww, poor guy, did I give you a case of red, white, and blue balls?”

“I’ve never had to hide wood more than I did today. The things I want to do to you . . . I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Believe it,” I say, dropping to my knees as a flash of lightning brightens the dark house.

“Maybe I can help since I tortured you all day.” Before he can respond, I tug his shorts down over his hips.

My mouth falls open. “A picture never would have done this justice,” I murmur more to myself, but when I look up, there’s a self-satisfied tip to his lips.

“Glad you approve.”

“So damn much.” My voice shakes with anticipation.

He hisses when my hand wraps around his length—it’s hot and heavy in my palm. I pump it once, forcing pre-cum to bead at the tip.

“Look at you, so fucking perfect for me—made for me.” His hands grips my ponytail, wrapping it around his fist. “I’ve been on edge all day, watching you in that swimsuit. I’m not sure I can be gentle with you.”

“Good, I don’t want gentle. You think you were alone?

That slutty little tank top, your tattoo .

. . What was the inseam on that swimsuit?

Seven inches?” I lick him from root to tip, sucking the head.

He’s big, which I already knew, but having my fist around him, his dick at my lips, confirms that, and I’m left wondering if his shorts have magical concealment powers.

His laugh is a little dark, but still all him. “Let’s see how much you can take, darling.”

He slides against my tongue with a groan that sets me ablaze. Inch by inch, he feeds himself to me. When he hits the back of my throat, cutting off my air, I gag, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“That’s so fucking good. I knew you could do it.” His thumb brushes my cheek.

“Again,” I pant when he pulls out.

“That’s it. So eager for me.” His tips breeches my lips and he pumps in a little faster this time, hitting the back of my throat and holding it there. “Eyes—look at me.”

Tears blur my vision and he pulls back just enough that I can suck in a deep breath through my nose. My senses return as sharp pings of rain pound off the metal roof.

“In and out, darling.”

I focus on what he’s telling me and the rhythm of the rainfall, nodding my understanding.

He slides back in, alternating taking my breath and giving praise. “This mouth feels like heaven.”

His thighs strain under my palms, and I know he’s close.

“Do you want me to come?”

No. I shake my head.

“Okay,” he says, pulling out and gripping the base of his shaft tightly. Then he’s lifting me from the floor by my elbows, straight into his arms. My legs wrap around him. Rain pounds the windows as he carries me up the narrow stairs to my bed.

I bounce when he drops me on it, lowering to his knees at the foot and pulling me toward him.

My shorts come off first, and then my underwear. He covers me with his body, kissing along the column of my neck until he reaches my mouth and his hands slide under my tank top. He breaks the kiss just long enough to get the shirt over my head and unclasp my bra.

Then his mouth is back, and it’s everywhere—on my neck, nipping at my collarbone, working lower until his hot lips seal over my nipples, sucking and flicking.

“Fuck, these are pretty.” He takes my breasts in his palm, pushing them together.

“I’m leaking all over myself. That was—you were .

. . incredible. I’m going to spend some time between these thighs and then I’m going to fuck you so well that you never have to fake anything again. Okay with you, Clover?”

“Yes!” I cry out.

“Good,” he says, switching to the other side as one hand dips between my thighs, parting my center and sinking inside. He stops, looking up with a smug expression before he lifts his soaked finger.

“Absolutely dripping. All from having my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes,” I admit.

His smile is far too pleased. He works my nipples between his fingers, the other hand not missing a beat as he makes shallow strokes that have stars forming at the edge of my vision.

“Do we have a mutual praise kink?” he asks, his chin resting against my sternum, like he’s asking what I want for dinner.

I roll my eyes because this is absurd. “It seems so.”

“This is going to be so fucking fun.” He kisses his way down my stomach until he gets to my mound. Using his shoulder to spread me, he sinks lower until his face is buried between my thighs and my hands are in his hair.

“Let me hear how well I’m doing, Harlowe. It’s just us this time, so be loud for me, darling.”

“There. Just like that,” I tell him, pressing his head to me. “Your tongue—you’re so good at that.”

He hums his approval, and the praise seems to spur him on. Another finger joins the one already fucking me slowly. “More,” I beg.

My thighs shake at the end of the bed and he lifts one, putting it over his shoulder, and then the other.

His lips seal around my clit, sucking hard, and my back comes off the bed.

“That’s it. I’m going to come . . . fuck,” I groan, louder than I think I’ve ever let myself be before.

No one has ever told me to be loud, encouraged me to embrace the things I want this boldly.

I know I don’t need a man’s permission for literally anything, but he’s unleashed something inside me and not just here.

I won’t settle and I won’t shrink.

“Yes, Atlas, like that.”

He adds a third finger, stretching me. His hair is damp with sweat. This man is literally eating me to the point that it’s work. He’s giving me everything he’s got and then some.

“Oh god. It’s so good.”

“Get there for me, darling.” He crooks his fingers and clamps down on my clit. Everything goes white, my whole body trembling and my calves cramping from the force of it.

“ Yes. Yes. Yes, ” I chant.

My heart is pounding so loud I can feel it everywhere as Atlas kisses me softly between my legs, making me shiver before he crawls back up my body. His lips shine, and his hair is a mess, but he looks relaxed and happy.

It’s the same feeling that’s pumping through my blood and has me reaching for his face to pull him down to me for a kiss that stretches into more. I hiss when his hard length presses against my still-sensitive center.

“Sorry,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Don’t apologize. I just need you inside me instead of on the outside.”

“Fuck yes,” he groans, kissing me hard, the taste of me coating his lips.

Both hands frame my face before he pulls back.

He sits back on his heels and stretches his long body toward his pile of clothes, grabbing his wallet and fishing out a condom.

His tattoo is on full display, and I run my fingers over it.

“Do you think you’ll get more?”

He tears the package open, fitting the opening against his tip. “Maybe. For the right thing.”

I watch him roll it down—it’s so hot. “I like that this one has meaning.”

“I don’t do things without a reason,” he says, leaning back over me and positioning himself at my entrance.

“Yeah. Not really my thing, either—” I start, but he pushes in, stealing the thought from me.

“Just one more reason we work so well together.”

“Fuck, yes,” I groan into his neck as he stretches me.

“Taking me so well.” He gives a shallow thrust, pulling out to the tip.

I whine.

“I’m going to give you all of it this time.”

“I can take it.”

“Damn right you can. Every fucking inch is yours. We were made for each other.”

My mouth falls open when he bottoms out.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he whispers against my skin. It’s electric, the way his praise lights me up. I get lost in the way we work together, him moving above me and me clinging to him. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

Each thrust seems to not only bring me closer to the brink, but to him. My nails dig into his shoulders. “God, this . . . you. Feels so good.” I meet him thrust for thrust, trying to hold on to the bliss that’s wrapping itself around me.

“You need more?” he asks.

“Just—it’s right there.”

“You wanna ride?” His breaths come fast and he grits his teeth like he’s holding back.

“Yeah.”

With his arms wrapped tightly around my waist and back, he flips us. With me on top, he shifts things around so he’s in a reclined position against my headboard.

My hands come to his chest for leverage. “Use my cock, Harlowe. Get off on me.”

My hips shift. It’s deeper like this, and him filling me and the friction has me right there again.

As soon as I’ve found my rhythm, he jumps in, working me up. His thumb settles over my clit. “Better?”

“Uh-huh.”

His other hand roams freely—over my breast, a tug on my nipple, brushing against my lips. He’s tactile and observant. His palm sweeps down my neck and my breath catches in my throat, making a strangled sound.

“Here?”

His fingers wrap around my neck, just holding as I ride him.

“Atlas, yes.” He gives me more pressure with both hands, reading my body, his hips lifting. He fucks me from the bottom.

“I can feel you, darling. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” He grits his teeth and grunts out my name, adding a touch of pressure to my throat. “Okay?”

I think I nod before I go still as the waves of euphoria wash over me, but he doesn’t stop, carrying me through, until he’s pulsing inside me with a groan so primal it rattles my bones.

Then he’s tugging me to him with his hand on my neck for a kiss that feels like it implants itself on my soul.

It’s deep and thorough. It’s filled with tenderness and passion.

It’s everything. He is everything. Just like I need to breathe, I need him.

His palm curves around my hip, tracing lazy lines across my stomach. It’s achingly slow, pulling a shaky exhale from me as our hearts beat against each other.

His lips brush my forehead, both of us spent.

“This never could have stayed fake. You’re fucking incredible.”

It’s like he can read my mind.