Faking It (UnReal #1) Page 8

  I’ve decided that I am done taking no for an answer and I’m dragging her out of here. That’s when she backs up into me and begins grinding her firm little ass right into my crotch. I groan audibly and my hands go up to grip her hips, completely forgetting my argument to leave.

  Our bodies align perfectly as we dance to the music, if that’s what you want to call it. I would consider it more dry fucking since I'm grinding my hard as hell cock into her ass. My jeans and her barely-there thin white dress being the only barrier between us.

  She is nothing but perfection, is a constant running thought in my mind. I could probably live off just her smile. Never lay a finger on her and be content with just the happiness she radiates. I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled this much. Shit, joked around this much. It’s a feeling that’s as strange as it is stimulating.

  The music changes again and Lexi twists, going for my hands. How do people keep up with this shit? “Oh my God! I love this song!” she screams as lyrics talking about being up in this club, begin to blare. She starts jumping up and down taking me with her as she sings. The booze has definitely kicked in because I find myself laughing and attempting to jump up and down with her. I am in a fucking club jumping up and down. And I am smiling. I shake my head as I grab for Lexi and pick her up. I brush my nose against hers as I smile, slowly allowing her body to glide down mine. Our eyes never part as her feet finally hit the floor. The flush in her cheeks making her look radiant.

  “Hunter James, is that a very large gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Her mischievous smirk blends into mine as I grin back at her. There is no hiding the fact that I have been hard as hell since the moment she stepped into my life.

  “You know, Hunter James does sound like a hot badass spy name.” She winks at me. That does me in. I can’t take another second, and I need my lips to consume hers. I bend forward. When she begins to squeal. Fucking Christ.

  “Oh no they didn’t!” she screams.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I ask looking around for shit, I don’t know, danger? “This song! Tell me you know this song?” I try and listen but I don’t place it. I shake my head. She offers me a look of complete disappointment which looks so damn cute on her.

  “Okay Hunter James, the badass spy with a very large gun in his pants, it’s time you do. Now. I am going to go on the other side of this dance floor. And when you see me coming, you need to lift me up and spin me. Okay?”

  Wait, what? Not really registering, she continues, “Dirty Dancing, silly! Haven’t you seen it? Everyone on earth has seen it!” she boasts.

  I continue to shake my head, laughing at her distress over a damn movie.

  “Well, be ready. When the line, ‘I had the time of my life,’ comes on, I'm gunning it for you, okay?”

  “What you mean—” I ask her back because she is already taking off to the other side of the dance floor. I don’t even have time to process what in the world she is talking about, but I do hear the lyrics and then I definitely see Lexi running toward me. She makes it to me quickly and I attempt to grab at her but she trips and falls into me. I catch her by the waist, losing my own balance and taking us both to the ground. My head hits the concrete floor and is now spinning. I scramble to my side to make sure Lexi is okay when I hear her laughter. Scratch that. She is laughing so hard, she is damn near wheezing.

  “Jesus Christ that was awesome. Not at all how Baby and Johnny did it, but still. Super awesome.” She looks down at me, her face filled with hilarity, trying to catch her breath.

  The laughter in her dies down and I sense her mood completely shift.

  Her voice just above a whisper, “I like my eggs scrambled, no yolk. My favorite color is pink and I am allergic to beets. Is that enough for you, Hunter James? Will you take me home now?”

  My chest tightens.

  My vision almost blurs.

  She’s going to be the end of me. Fuck the deal. I lift my face and slam my lips to hers. She tastes of fruit and heaven. Still holding her I bring us both off the floor. I don’t think twice as I throw her over my shoulder. I hear her laugh, then squeal at my actions and it causes me to grin from ear to ear as I take my hand and spank her perfect little ass.

  Storming out of the club, I wave for Sam, our driver, and the vehicle pulls up in front. I flip Lexi back upward and quickly guide her inside. We’re not even in the limo thirty seconds before I’m pressing her into the cushioned seat. My mouth slams onto hers instantly. She moans in approval wrapping her hands around my neck. Threading her fingers into my thick hair as I attack her, I slide my greedy tongue into her mouth.

  “Your mouth is becoming an addiction,” I growl as I nip at her bottom lip. This boldness is an unfamiliar side of me, but it doesn’t stop me from making my way down the crevices of her neck, my greedy hands work their way around her hips, caressing her skin. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I need to consume every part of you,” I murmur, my mouth traveling down to her collarbone, leaving a trail of red marks in its wake. Instantly, I flip us so she is straddling me. The friction of her warm body rubbing against my hard as hell dick is making me dizzy. I’m high off the feel of her as my impatient hands grope her perky breasts. She shows no complaint as she pushes them into my awaiting hands and watches as my palms squeeze and caresses them in unison. The fullness of her breasts feel amazing, and I moan at finally having the feel of them in my hands. I know she is just as far gone, though, when a string of moans leave her mouth.

  I inhale her scent, the last bit of restraint snapping. “I can’t go slow with you anymore, Lexi. I just can’t,” I confess. She has officially broken into a part of me that had been dormant. My closed shell now cracked. My hands press harder into her full flesh pinching her nipples through the fabric of her dress. I sit forward and allow my teeth to graze the top of her shoulder blade. Lexi grips the back of my neck, her nails close to breaking skin. Bringing her lips to my ear, her breath hitting my lobe, she whispers, “Let go, Hunter. Don’t hold back with me.” With her bruising grip, that’s when I know. She is submitting to me. Offering me a sense of control.

  I move my hands to run them up her arms, under her hair, sliding them behind her neck. In an instant, the halter tie to her dress is undone, exposing her breasts completely. I take them in both hands and squeeze hard enough to take her to the edge of pain. She throws her head back, her face rippling in waves of pleasure before me. Replacing my hands, I cover one of her breasts with my mouth. “Your body just melts for me,” I hum. My warm breath and wet lips against her skin seem to send her into a deeper state of bliss. I can’t wait any longer. I have to touch her now. Grabbing for her dress, I tug it up her thighs. I begin to sweat at the way her skin floods with goosebumps and imagine how warm and tight she’ll be. I can’t be gentle with her, and I don’t plan on it. I grab for her underwear but soon realize she isn’t wearing any.

  “Fuckin’ Christ,” I moan into her neck.

  The limo comes to a stop, signaling our arrival back to the hotel and I growl. Damnit! What is it with people and timing tonight? I waste no time pulling back and grabbing for her straps and retying her dress. I land a quick kiss on her flushed lips and lift her, placing her on the seat next to me. Not waiting for Sam to open the door, I snatch her hand and push the door open. Stepping out first, I turn quickly guiding Lexi out of the limo. Startling her, I pick her up and throw her back over my shoulder. I gesture to Sam that I am done for the evening, and with Lexi’s giggling body in tow, I speedily jog into the hotel. Ignoring all staff attempting to greet us, I pull her to the private elevator, pushing the button for the penthouse. It’s then I observe my hands are shaking.

  As soon as the elevator closes, I swing her forward allowing her legs to wrap around my waist. I thrust her backward into the mirrored wall and my mouth is back where it demands to be, inhaling every part of her. I groan in approval as she kisses me back with the same intensity. It’s mere seconds before the doors reopen onto
the penthouse. I don’t miss a beat. I turn quickly, picking her back up. Like a weightless treasure she is back over my shoulder. Finally entering my bedroom I toss her light form onto the bed. I watch as her hair spills all over my cream bedding, big eyes, tight nipples—the sight knocks the wind out of me.

  “Fuck Lexi, you look gorgeous, splayed out on my bed so willing. I’m going to spend the entire night making every single piece of you mine,” I confess, my mouth loosened from all of the drinks I’ve had tonight.

  “Um, Hunter? I think I’m going to throw up.”

  I’M DREAMING. I’M STUCK in the Sahara Desert and I am being held captive by aliens. They aren’t hurting me, but they are refusing to give me any goddamn refreshments. To make matters worse, they are trying to smother me. I’m really hot, I mean, yeah I’m in the damn desert but the warmth factor is high, even for a dream. Just as I see the alien taunt me with the ice cold glass of water, I feel vibrations. Great, now an earthquake? Just perfect. I’m going to die in my dream all sweaty, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth while being kidnapped by aliens.

  I feel the vibrations again, the sensation comforting against my back. What would feel even better, I tell my unconscious-self is if that damn alien poured an ice cold drink down my throat. It’s a shame that little fucker won’t share his drink. Goddamn does that vibration feel good. Okay, maybe if this sweet vibration keeps up, I could pass on the water.

  “Lexi, stop grinding your ass into my crotch.”

  Huh?

  I open one crusted eye and peek around. I realize I am in a bed. And I am being spooned. I look down and see an arm wrapped around my waist.

  “What the—” I awake fully with a start, throwing myself almost off the bed. Hunter’s strong arm catches me¸ pulling me back up against him. He twists me so we are facing each other, lifting his hand to brush away a strand of hair from my cheek. I feel the vibrations now hitting my center and gasp. Or possibly moan. Hunter huffs and digs into his pocket, revealing the cause of the buzzing sensations. He looks at the phone screen and swears, turning to place it on the night stand.

  “So…” I start trying to remember. How did I get here? Did I? Did we?

  “Relax. No deal was broken last night.”

  “Oh…” I sounds relieved then notice—“Wh—where is your shirt?”

  “You’re wearing it,” he says.

  I quickly look down and realize I am exactly as he put it, wearing his shirt. I look back up and pause getting an eye full of his bare chest. I can’t even mentally say the word muscle, without fighting an audible moan. His chest is tight, with a small trail of hair teasing its way down his lower stomach. I lick my lips, moving my eyes higher and past his knowing smile, noticing his tousled hair.

  Hunter’s soft laugh breaks my eye assault of his seriously perfect body. “Apparently I made the bad move of tossing you around like a sack of potatoes, and it caused you to get sick.

  Oh no. I didn’t

  “Did I… um…”

  “You did. All over the bathroom actually. I had to take off your dress because it was soaked.” I quickly look down again realizing why I'm wearing his shirt. “Oh God.” I put my hands over my face. Holy embarrassment. I never throw up. Like ever. I bury my face in the pillow. “I’m so sorry,” My statement muffled.

  “Don’t be. I found it cute how you threw yourself at me last night.”

  I feel my cheeks heat at his words. “I did not throw myself at you.”

  “Well, technically you did.” Oh my God, the memory of me reenacting the scene from Dirty Dancing hits my membrane. I go to cover my now beet red face, but Hunter stops me. “Don’t be embarrassed. I quite enjoyed it.”

  “You enjoy women making asses out of themselves then tossing you to the ground in the middle of a dance club?”

  “I’ve just realized that I am quite fond of it. Plus, I got to learn three new things about you.”

  I shake my head in mortification as he chuckles.

  “Now all I need to know is how you take your toast so I can feed you breakfast.”

  I can’t stop laughing, if that’s what you want to call it. More like snorting like a pig. My elite manners gone right out the fucking window as I roll around in the early morning and snort while Hunter and I lay in bed, him telling me ridiculous stories of his college days. A simple game of twenty questions turned into Hunter filling me in on his crazy youth. He would start by asking me a simple question of what my favorite song or vegetable was and find a way to relate it to something in his life. Of course he followed everything up with telling me how we were made for each other with our same likes and dislikes. I just swatted him off. Though deep down inside my heart kept doing this weird spinning thing while I wanted to scream totally and throw him onto the bed and ravage him. His phone has gone off several times, and several times he has chosen to ignore it.

  “Why don’t you get that? It’s the billionth time it’s gone off.”

  “No. Nothing is important enough to keep me from you right now. What’s your favorite cereal?”

  “Lucky Charms,” I laugh, watching his eyes light up once again. “Mine too. It’s amazing that you say that because—” Again with the phone cutting off his train of thought. “Seriously. Take it.” He attempts to bite my shoulder blade, but I fight off his eager mouth and roll off the bed. “I don’t mind. I need to use the bathroom anyway. I’ll give you some privacy.” I wink and walk away. He grabs for my waist and plops me back down onto the bed. “Where do you think you’re going? I feed you breakfast and tell you all my deepest secrets and you try and flee?” His fake pout warms every single part of me. As I’ve been doing more than I ever have, I laugh again. “I was just going to use the bathroom, Hunter. I’m sure you’ll survive it.”

  He narrows his eyes and shakes his head slowly. “I forbid you to leave my sight while you’re with me.” He smiles mischievously and leaning over me, he grabs his phone from the nightstand.

  “James,” he answers while staring down at me. I wiggle underneath him, pretending I want to break free. He holds my gaze while shaking his head back and forth indicating that’s going to be a no.

  He looks away from me, seeming to focus on whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying and breathes a loud sigh. “Not going to happen, Joe. I’m on top of some very important artwork at the moment, and I won’t be getting up until I am finished. Which may be never.” He winks down at me. I, on the other hand, roll my eyes while my insides twist like a raging tornado.

  “Joseph, I told you, I’m not going to Vegas.”

  Vegas?

  That peaks my interest. “Hey,” I whisper, nudging him.

  “Not a chance. Tell them I’m out.” I nudge him again.

  “Hold on.” He pulls the phone away from his ear. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Vegas,” I simply say.

  “Yes, Vegas. I’m not going. Don’t worry.” He goes to place the phone back on his ear and I nudge him again. He rolls his eyes. “Jesus woman, what is it?” His playful banter gone, his need to get off the call and back to business in full affect. “I could go to Vegas,” I tell him, because come on. No one turns down a trip to Vegas.

  “You’d be up for coming with me to Vegas?” he questions.

  I nod my head eagerly.

  “To sit around at an art show with me?”

  “I work at an art gallery!” I punch him in the ribs. “Plus those things last only a few hours. Vegas doesn’t require sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to do other things, like get to know each other.” I wink at him, and then wiggle my eyebrows. Meanwhile, in my head I am totally chanting “Ve-gas, Ve-gas.”

  “If I take you, does this mean I get to have you longer? More than just two days?” I nod eagerly. Because, who am I kidding, I want more time with him too. He inspects my facial expression a few seconds longer. “You know they have tons of chapels in Vegas. You trying to tell me something, Miss Hall?”

  I jab him again in the rib
s and he grunts, fighting the smile that’s spreading across his face. He brings the phone back to his ear. “Fine I’m in, but I can only go for a few hours. I have other business I will be attending to in town.”

  He recites minimal information on his passenger who he will be flying with and hangs up, tossing the phone to the floor. “We have two hours until we have to leave for our flight now. That gives us just enough time for you to convince me why we should leave this perfect bubble, only to have to go interact with people,” he says with a smirk. He doesn’t say much more and I can’t help but giggle. He does what I’ve been praying for all morning and slams his mouth down on my beaming lips and kisses me completely senseless.

  It turns out I didn’t have to do much convincing at all.

  I’m strutting down the LAX runway… Okay so it’s just the airport but I still feel like a star. I’m sporting a hot pink romper and my favorite aviators. It also doesn’t hurt that I have one seriously smoking hot guy hanging on my shoulder. Well I’m technically hanging off his. Either way, we look good together. People are moving out of our way or staring as we pass. I’m used to it. The attention. But it’s never been like this. I’ve never had someone at my side worth smiling for. The real smile. And I have to be honest, the part that has me beaming isn’t that they’re looking at me. It’s that they’re looking at him. Sporting a sharp pair of dark jeans, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket, his eyes are covered by his own fancy aviator glasses. For a reclusive artist who would rather be surrounded by nothing but his palette and easel, Hunter sure cleans up good.

  After our aggressive teenage game of tickle in the bed, which I mean literally, since Hunter attacked me and tickled me until I screamed “uncle,” he finally let me up to pee. I had to check in with work, since Cornelius was sitting by his phone waiting for an update, I’m sure. Thankfully, I reached his voicemail and gave him my sales pitch on how well it was going. Great actually, but the client was a tough sell and needed more time to think it through. So, I had to stay longer to close the sale. Which sale I was referring to, I wasn’t quite sure.