Page 11 of The Fake Husband Deal

I wondered how often he picked up men in that same bar. Something told me his scoring rate was pretty high. Who wouldn’t go for someone like him? A little shorter than me, filled out a shirt nicely, short, trimmed beard, and bright blue eyes that oozed confidence.

Suddenly, my carefully put-together facade felt as fragile as a sugar-glass bottle.

“I was thinking…” he said. “Are we exchanging names or…?”

“No names. I think it’s better if we keep our information sharing to a minimum.”

He leaned into me as we walked and whispered in a sultry voice that went straight to my dick. “What name will I shout when you make me come?”

I coughed.

“You can call me whatever you want.”

He tapped his finger over his pretty mouth, making me reconsider my decision.

How would my name sound coming from those lips?

“We’re here,” I said.

“You’re staying here?”

“Is that a problem?”

He smiled. “None at all. Just funny because I don’t live that far. I can see this building from my place.”

I sighed but couldn’t help warming up to him. He was terrible at keeping personal information to himself.

The ride to the top floor was filled with dirty, promising looks and barely there touches we couldn’t take further because we never had the elevator to ourselves.

When we finally got to my room, I took the key card out but paused before tapping it on the pad.

“Cold feet?” he teased.

I leaned against the door, facing him. “Why me? You could have picked anyone in that bar tonight.”

He narrowed the gap between us until he was pressed against me.

“Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know how hot you are.”

I moved my hand behind my back until I heard the click of the door unlocking.

No sooner had the door closed behind us than I found myself pressed against it. I smiled. It was cute that he thought he was in charge.

“I need to kiss you,” he said, raising his heels to reach my height.

All I needed was to lean down a couple of inches. “Patience,” I whispered against his lips.

“You’re a fucking tease.”

I wasn’t, but the tip of my lower lip was on fire, and it had only barely touched his. How would I survive a whole kiss?

If I blamed his hastiness, I could pretend I wasn’t the one on the verge of giving him everything and more.

I couldn’t blame him though. Younger guys were always keen to get the first orgasm out of the way. Once upon a time, I could also go on all night, but at forty-seven, I was lucky to have one good one in me. I had to make it count.