16. Brent
Brent
Posey’s thighs rest on my shoulders, and she’s perched on the tiny ledge in the shower while I eat her for breakfast. We need to catch our plane back to campus soon.
Her fingers are digging into my scalp, and she’s breathing heavily.
Fuck the plane. I want to watch her come.
After I brought her a rose I picked on my way back from practice, she gave me the road map to this orgasm last night in bed, and now I’m driving the same route to O-Town this morning.
“Oh my god,” she cries and clutches at the wet wall of the shower.
I slip two fingers into her, and while I pump and lick, she comes apart around me. Beside her, she fumbles for the condom, and tugs me up.
“I want you,” she says.
The water from the shower pounds onto my shoulder while she rolls on the condom. I lift her off the ledge and grip her ass, pressing her against the wall for leverage. She locks her legs around me, and I enter her.
She lets out a groan of satisfaction. “I don’t understand how this just keeps getting better,” she says when I adjust so each thrust will drive her to another release.
“You can tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had,” I murmur against her neck. “I can take it.”
She lets out a throaty chuckle. “Keep going, and you might earn the medal.”
“Not a sticker?”
“Oh, no,” she gasps. “This definitely deserves a medal.”
When I lift my head out of her neck to meet her gaze, she looks like she’s on the verge of losing it again. She grabs my face, and she kisses me deeply. Her forehead falls against mine, and her enthusiastic noises are going to be the death of me.
She squeezes my biceps, and I pick up the pace.
“Holy shit,” she breathes. “Oh god. Brent.” Her legs tighten around my waist, and as she pulses around me, I meet her orgasm with my own.
We didn’t sit together on the plane, so I am once again watching her journey through customs and immigration with all the friends she made. Since we took separate vehicles to get to the airport, I could leave. But instead, I stand by the exit doors waiting for her.
When she reaches me, a grin splits her expressive face. “You waited for me?”
“Do you need a ride back to campus?”
“I took an Uber here.”
“I’ll take you home.” I take her bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“For a fake boyfriend, you’re actually not so bad.”
“Just wait for your latte and orgasm tomorrow. I’ll be climbing the ranks.”
“Hopefully I’ll be the one climbing something.” She bats her eyelashes at me and then laughs.
While we walk to the car, we fall into a comfortable silence, and I marvel at how much can change in a few days.
On Thursday night when she appeared at my table, I was sure the weekend would be some version of hell.
The way she was dressed to tease and her insistence that I had to be a misogynistic asshole wasn’t a great starting place.
Somewhere along the line, we morphed from strangers to friends.
Friends who take immense pleasure in each other.
“Where do you live?” I ask once we’re settled in my car.
“Jane and Clarence.” She rubs her hands together and zips her jacket to the top. “I forgot how cold it would be.”
I pay the parking fee at the exit and turn the car toward her apartment building.
“Where do you live?” Posey asks.
“Montgomery and Horton.” We’re on opposite ends of the campus, but the athletics complex is on her side. There’s a chance I could run into her by accident. Not that I need to worry about that right now.
“I’m surprised you didn’t look for a place on my side. Closer to the pool.”
When Jaxon found the apartment, we couldn’t find a time to view it together, so I told him to take it. “I don’t mind the walk.” Except in the bitterly cold winter months, which feels like most of them when it’s November and I’m staring them down for another season.
“Do you have practice today?”
I check the clock in the dash. “In about two hours.”
“You probably need to get home and unpack.”
“I should,” I say. There’s something in her tone that makes me want to do the opposite. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh, I was just going to invite you up to meet my roommates and give them the rundown on the fake relationship. Thought it might be easier for us to tell them together so they realize we’re not a big deal.”
“Who are your roommates?”
“Destiny Carter and Nadiya Manji. Destiny is on the women’s basketball team, so you might have seen her around?”
“Yeah,” I say. Everyone who’s worth anything to the university PR department gets paraded around at regular intervals. Star athletes at Northern bear the brunt of the heavy lifting. “She’s likely going to the WNBA, right?”
“The draft is in April, but all signs are pointing to yes right now.” Posey pats my knee. “If you don’t want to meet them, it’s cool.”
“No, no. I’ll come in.” Explaining to her roommates that I’m worried I can’t keep my dick in my pants around my ex-girlfriend isn’t on my list of top ten things to do, but laying out the circumstances will make the next couple of weeks less awkward.
I hope. Please let this conversation be the only awkward one.
Val doesn’t have roommates, so being vetted by Posey’s close friends will be a new experience.
Fake or not, I don’t want to be a letdown.
I’ve got Posey’s bag in my hand when she opens the door to her apartment. A high-pitched squeal greets us.
“Girl,” someone calls. “Was he a trash fire or a total hottie?”
Posey glances at me over her shoulder with a mischievous grin before stepping into the apartment. I hesitate for a second behind her before revealing myself.
Destiny Carter gasps. “Shit. Posey, you need to warn a girl. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—” she stares at me for a beat and then glares at Posey “—that you were Brent fucking Faulkner.”
“Technically fucking is not my middle name.” I offer her my hand that isn’t holding Posey’s bag, and she accepts it with a grin. She’s the same height as my six-foot frame, and her jet-black hair is in microbraids.
“But he’s very good at it,” Posey chimes in before collapsing into the couch. “It really should be.”
Destiny laughs, and heat creeps into my cheeks. Her boldness should not embarrass me, and yet, here we are.
Posey pats the couch cushion beside her while Destiny slides into the love seat opposite. Netflix is paused on the TV, and Posey glances around. “Where’s Nadiya?”
Down the hallway, a door opens. “You back, Posey? Was that the worst experience ever or—” Nadiya stands dumbfounded at the corner where the hallway intersects the open kitchen and living room. “Or your wet dream come true? Holy shit. Brent Faulkner.”
The nice part, sometimes, about being semi-famous around campus are moments where I get to do cool things or get to cut a line because I swim fast. Days like today, when I don’t need to introduce myself, and her roommates’ comments are embarrassing and slightly baffling, I’d love to be Joe Nobody meeting his fake girlfriend’s friends for the first time.
Obviously, they both have preconceived notions about who I am, and I have no idea if I should be combatting those or sinking into them.
Nadiya glances at Posey before zeroing in on me with narrowed eyes. “I thought you were dating Valentina Consuelos.”
“We broke up on Thursday before I went to Bermuda,” I say. “A long time coming.”
“Wouldn’t know it from the girl’s social media,” Nadiya says.
“And,” Posey says, holding up a finger, “Brent and I are now fake dating to throw Val off the reunion scent.”
“Fake dating?” Destiny lets out a cackle. “Yeah, right.”
“Posey doesn’t need to fake date you. Man up and tell Val you’re done.” Nadiya crosses her arms.
“He did,” Posey says. “She’s persistent. And actually, not very nice.”
Nadiya ignores Posey. “Look, if you want to date our friend, just ask her. She’ll tell you no, and then there’s no need for this ruse to win her over.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say. “That’s not what’s going on here. Posey and I have a deal.”
“It involves lattes and orgasms in exchange for me giving him some distance from Val. There’s no relationship happening.” Posey slashes the air. “None.”
Her total vehemence is causing a twinge of something I can’t identify in my chest. Even after days of her zero filter, her bluntness still surprises me. “It’s just a couple weeks,” I say.
“Uh-huh.” Nadiya eyes me with distrust.
Apparently Posey isn’t the only one with guy issues. Awesome. Gonna be a pleasant couple of weeks hanging out here with these two.
“Brent has to go to practice,” Posey says, saving my ass from this continued discomfort. “But I just wanted to let you both know that he’ll be around delivering lattes and—”
“Orgasms,” Destiny says with a shake of her head. “Heard that part, thanks.”
In the doorway, I lean toward Posey and give her a quick peck on the lips. “I don’t think they like me.”
“They don’t like any guy I bring home. They’ll come around. Maybe. By the time the two weeks is done, probably. You know what? You should bring them lattes too.”
“Tomorrow? I don’t know your schedule,” I say when she tries to shut the door on me.
“Oh right. Yeah. I wrote in all the places I need a latte delivered on my calendar during the flight. In the car on the way here, I synched our schedules. Easy peasy.” She winks at me. “See you tomorrow.”
Then she shuts the door in my face.
I stand there stunned at the entire encounter. Our schedules are synced? I take my phone out, and sure enough, tomorrow morning at nine is a latte icon and the location of her class.
This girl, man. This girl.