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The Fake Out: a fake dating hockey romance: Chapter 23

RORY

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

In our hotel room that night, I swivel in my chair, giving McKinnon an innocent smile.

“Buying gifts for my girlfriend.” My mouth tilts. “You don’t mind, right?”

His lip curls, eyes on the lingerie website on my laptop. “I never needed to buy her that stuff.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

His smile drops, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. My curiosity piques but I turn back to the laptop, scrolling and adding things to the cart.

I think about McKinnon touching Hartley, and I feel sick. I think about him waking up wrapped around her, with his hands all over her, and I want to punch something.

She wanted to go further this morning, but something stopped her.

My hand scrubs over my face before I pick up the tiny crystal dragon I’ve been bringing with me on the road. It’s a perfect twin to hers, except hers is blue and mine is green. If she knew I had it, she’d call it a waste of money, but I find myself holding it all the time, thinking about her. I like that we both have them, like they’re friendship bracelets or walkie-talkies or something.

Just another fucking thing I can’t tell her.

Before I think about it, I’m FaceTiming her, nudging the crystal dragon out of view.

“I’m not keeping it,” she answers in my earbuds in lieu of hello.

My mouth tips up and I add more lingerie to the cart. “Yes, you are.”

I’ve never bought a woman lingerie, but picturing Hartley in these scraps of lace is like rocket fuel for my fantasies. She’d never, ever wear it, but that isn’t going to stop me from buying it for her.

There’s a rustling noise on her end, and my smile creeps higher. “Put your camera on, Hartley.”

“Umm. No.”

I’m already laughing. She sounds so guilty. “Put your camera on right now.”

Her video pops up, and I shake with laughter. “I knew it.”

She’s lying back against the pillows, grinning, and I just smile at her as a warm, liquid feeling flows through me.

“Okay. I like it. I’m lying on a cloud in heaven. Happy?”

“Extremely.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

I just shake my head, swiveling in my chair, smiling at her. Her chestnut hair cascades over the pillow, and I remember this morning, when I woke up with her tucked against me.

Jesus, that felt good, her body all warm and soft. “You’re welcome.”

“I feel like I’m not pulling my weight in this arrangement, based on how often I thank you.”

“I like doing this stuff for you.”

There’s a long pause where we just look at each other, and my pulse beats harder with the worry that I showed my cards. My gaze roams her face—her lips curved into a small smile, her eyes sparkling in the low lighting of her apartment.

Does she feel the same?

“So, what are we going to do tonight to piss him off?” she asks.

Last night flashes in my head, the way she shrieked with laughter as we ran from Owens. I get an idea.

“Hartley,” I say in a scolding tone, glancing over my shoulder at McKinnon on his bed. “We can’t. I have a roommate.”

“Rory.” Fuck, I love it when we use first names. “What are you doing?”

I widen my eyes at her—play along—and she sighs, still smiling. “Just watch the sex tape we made. It’ll have to do until I get home.”

“Oh my god.” She shakes her head, but her face is going red. “Unbelievable.”

“Alright,” I relent. “I can’t say no to you.” I pick the laptop up and walk to the bathroom, pausing at the door. “You might want to clear out, McKinnon. Hartley and I need some alone time.”

He shoots me a dirty look.

“Uh. Miller? What are we doing?” Hazel asks in my ear.

I close the bathroom door behind me and wiggle my eyebrows at her. FaceTime sex, I mouth.

Her eyes go wide. “You’re kidding.”

I gesture that I’m disconnecting my earbuds, and she presses her mouth into a thin line, holding back her laughter.

“Take your shirt off,” I say loudly while she glares at me, trying not to smile. My pulse picks up. After a beat, I groan. “God, I miss those tits.”

She snorts like she doesn’t believe me, but I point at her. She gives me a frantic what the fuck? gesture.

Your turn, I mouth.

“Mmm,” she moans with an expression like she’s eating rotten food. “Yeah.” She slaps a hand over her mouth, rolling over with silent laughter as I beam at her.

What was that? I mouth.

She gives me a frantic look, eyes bright. I don’t fucking know.

“Take it all off.” My voice is low and smooth, but loud enough for McKinnon to hear. “Everything. That’s it. Let me see you.”

“Like this?” she says in a breathy voice that sounds nothing like her. Her face goes pink with embarrassment.

My cock stirs, waking up.

“Yeah.” My voice is thick. “Like that. Exactly like that.”

“And what about this?” Her voice is teasing. Confident. Like she knows exactly what she does to me. “Do you like it when I do this?”

Holy shit.

“Yeah.” What’s she imagining right now? “I do. A lot. You should do it again.” My tongue taps my bottom lip. “And you should touch yourself while you do it.”

Her eyes flare with heat. Thank fuck my lower half isn’t on camera, because I’m fully hard.

“Are you touching yourself for me, baby?” I ask.

“Uh-huh.” Her fingers fiddle with the ends of her hair on camera, but her eyes have this glaze to them that makes me think her mind might be where mine is right now.

“Are you imagining it’s me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” My mouth tips up in a pleased smile.

That’s definitely a flush forming on her face. Interesting. She liked that.

“What do you need right now?” I ask.

“Harder,” she breathes, and tingles run down my spine. “I want to go harder. You always make me feel so good.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as a shiver rolls through me.

“You know exactly how to make me come so hard,” she whispers, and my balls tighten.

There’s something about her approving tone that’s making me so hard I can’t think straight.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” I swallow, watching Hartley’s flushed face as she makes herself breathe hard.

If we were fooling around on FaceTime for real, her hand would be down those pink panties I saw this morning, swirling over her wet clit. She’d be soaked, I know she would be.

“Make yourself come and pretend it’s me.” My gaze is glued to the screen, and my breathing is ragged. “Touch yourself like I touch you.”

She nods, eyes half-lidded as she moans through my laptop speakers.

Jesus Christ. My hand rakes through my hair. I wonder if she’d follow directions like that in real life. If she’d give herself to me, or if she’d fight me every step of the way.

I don’t know which way I prefer.

“You, too,” she gasps. “Stroke yourself. I want to see.”

My cock pulses. Need is coursing through me, rattling in my blood. “I’m not going to last long if you keep making those noises, Hazel.” I’m addicted to the lust in her eyes. “You’re too hot. You’re going to make me lose it.”

I don’t know what’s fake and what’s real in this. I’m so hard it hurts, and the second this call is over, I’m going to replay every noise she made while I stroke my cock.

She bites her lip. “Mhm.”

“Are you close?”

“Uh-huh.”

I’m spilling pre-cum in my boxers. “Good. Keep going. Faster.”

I need to hear what it sounds like when Hazel comes.


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