Page 31 of The Hookup Situation (Billionaire Situation #5)

“I know,” I say, my eyes squeezing closed as he moves slowly.

He pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in. Each thrust hits me deep. I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders, as he picks up the pace.

“Harder,” I beg, my voice shaking. “Please, harder. It feels really good.”

He slams into me, not picking up the pace, just thrusting deeper. He stretches me wide, hitting me just right. The orgasm coils tighter, and my control is ready to snap. His fingers find my clit again, rubbing it as he pounds into me relentlessly.

“Oh, oh, Nick. Keep doing that,” I whimper, the build happening fast .

The sensation of him inside me with nothing between us is overwhelming. The sun warms our skin, and the apple-scented air surrounds us.

“You feel …” He can’t finish.

“I know.” I gasp, wrapping my legs tighter around him. “I can’t describe it either.”

What we’re doing is something else entirely. Every thrust, every kiss, every whispered word breaks down another wall between us. Everything ceases to exist outside of this.

“Look at me,” he says, and when I do, the expression on his face breaks something open in my chest.

“Nick,” I moan, getting close to seeing actual stars. “I’m so close.”

“Let go for me, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“I want you to come with me,” I breathlessly say.

I can feel the pressure building until it’s unbearable.

He doesn’t stop, his thrusts becoming erratic, his breathing ragged.

“I will,” he promises, slamming into me one last time before he stills, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me full.

My body tenses, my cunt clamping down around him, and then it happens. I scream as my orgasm hits me, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I squirt all over his cock, soaking the blanket beneath us. It’s intense, like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and I don’t recognize the sound coming out of me.

We’re a tangled mess of sweat and satisfaction. We stay joined, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. I can feel him still pulsing inside me, along with the warmth of what we just shared.

“That was …” I can’t find words.

“Everything,” he finishes.

I can still feel him between my thighs and know where he’s been, will be evident later. But right now, the world feels different, like that one experience changed it all.

“We just …” I trail off.

“I know,” he whispers .

His cock slips out of me, and I can feel him dripping down my thighs. He kisses me, his hands roaming over my body before he helps clean me with some paper towels from the picnic basket.

“You’re a dream,” he says as we get dressed.

I grin, my body still tingling with aftershocks of having him exactly how I wanted him. “And you’re a fantasy.”

The clouds cast shadows on the orchard as we gather the picnic supplies. We’re both aware that we’ve crossed a line we can’t uncross.

“Stay with me tonight?” I ask.

“I’d love to,” he says. “I want to wake up with you in my arms tomorrow.”

Butterflies flutter inside me. “I want that too.”

As we drive back, I keep glancing at him, at our joined hands, thinking about what just happened.

It was a claim. A promise. A beginning to something that feels bigger than both of us. And we both know it.

“Something just changed,” I whisper. My head is still screaming that six days is too fast; my heart is whispering that maybe time doesn’t matter when you find your person.

“Everything did,” he says. “But we have time. I’m not going anywhere.”

As we drive on the outskirts of Cozy Creek, Nick glances at me. “We should stop at the cabin,” he says. “I need to grab some things if I’m staying with you.”

“Sure. You can turn up here on this road. It connects,” I tell him.

Six minutes later, we pull up to Riverside, and Patterson’s rental car is there.

Nick kisses my fingers. “Come in with me?”

I nod.

Inside, Patterson is sprawled on the couch, playing on his phone.

“There you are!” He sits upright when he sees Nick. “Dude, I’ve been texting you all day. ”

“I was busy. Visited the orchard,” Nick says, and then I step into view.

Patterson’s eyes land on me, taking in my messy hair, swollen lips, and the way Nick’s hand rests possessively on my lower back.

A knowing grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah?” He waggles his eyebrows. “How ’bout them apples?”

“Patterson,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “Grow up.”

My cheeks burn.

“Oh, I’m staying at Julie’s tonight.”

“Great! I’m having a party and inviting all the local single ladies,” Patterson says with a laugh.

“No parties, please. The woman who rented to me lives two houses down, and she’s watching the place, trust me.”

He stands up, moves to the kitchen, and opens the fridge. “I’ll invite her in to hang out with us.”

“I’ll be right back,” Nick says, disappearing upstairs to pack a bag, leaving me alone with Patterson.

“You’re good for him,” Patterson says, his tone serious. The flirty, suave attitude is gone. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Wait, you can just turn it off like that?”

He grins. “Don’t break my friend’s heart, okay? I don’t think he can handle that right now.”

“Him handle it? Are you kidding me? I’m more worried about him breaking mine,” I admit.

Patterson shakes his head. “You don’t see the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. I’ve never seen him like this, and we’ve been friends for fifteen years.”

Before I can respond, Nick returns with a duffel bag.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Bye, Jules. Nice chat.”

I meet his eyes. “Nice chat.”

As we drive to my place, I think about what Patterson said.

“You’re quiet,” Nick observes .

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how we’re supposed to be fake dating.”

He pulls onto the street in front of my condo and turns to me. “No decisions. One day at a time.”

“Nick …”

“You already know how this ends.”

“How?”

He shoots me a wink. “You know.”

My heart pounds as we head inside.

Nick Banks is staying with me, we just made love in an apple orchard, and nothing about this feels temporary anymore.

As he sets his bag in my bedroom, he pulls me against him.

“Still no regrets?” he asks.

“None,” I whisper. “You?”

“Only that it took us this long.”

“It’s been six days,” I whisper.

“It’s been eleven months,” he says.

And as he kisses me again, it’s full of promise, and I realize then that we’re not pretending.

Were we ever?