Champagne charade, p.1
Champagne Charade, page 1
champagne charade
FRIENDS OF FRIENDS 5
LEIGHTON GREENE
This is a work of fiction.
Product names, logos, brands, and other trademarks referred to herein are the property of their respective trademark holders. All trademarks remain the property of their respective holders.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
© 2022 Leighton Greene. All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author.
Cover: Ana J. Phoenix
A toast to my bubbly beta readers, Scarlett P. and Alexa S., for their effervescent suggestions. Cheers!
contents
Champagne Charade
1. Damon
2. Tyler
3. Damon
4. Tyler
5. Damon
6. Tyler
7. Tyler
8. Damon
9. Tyler
10. Damon
11. Damon
12. Tyler
13. Damon
14. Tyler
15. One Year Later
Dear reader
Also by the Author
About the Author
champagne charade
It was supposed to be fun -
but things are getting too real, too fast.
After Tyler Blakely got dumped, he never got around to telling his best friend. Why relive the pain?
But Tyler's bestie is getting married on New Year’s Eve, and he *also* never got around to removing his ex from the guest list.
Cue his current hookup and Dom-on-demand, Damon, joking that he could stand in as Tyler's ex. A fake name, a fake relationship…
It’s a terrible idea. Of course Tyler isn't going to do it.
But Tyler can’t bring himself to interrupt his best friend's dream wedding, and when they run into each other, the little white lie just…
Slips out.
It’s only for the wedding. Only for New Year’s Eve. One little charade…
Tyler knows Damon isn’t interested in anything real. He knows all those kisses and hugs are just for show. But he still can’t help falling under the Dominant's spell.
But he has to remember: after the wedding - and the year - is over, so is his fake relationship.
The clock is ticking down…
But what if the charade isn’t just an act?
CHAPTER 1
damon
“That’s it, take it all in…that’s my good little cocksucker.” There really was nothing like watching Tyler Blakely on his knees with his throat full of my dick, those blue irises even more blue than usual since his eyes were red and streaming with the force of my face-fucking.
Times like these I wondered what the hell Blakely’s ex-Dom had been smoking, giving up a guy like this.
His loss, my absolute gain.
I pulled out and a river of saliva ran down his chin as Tyler coughed and gasped. I reached down to touch his face, a tender trail of my fingers across those soaked, red lips, and then I grabbed a handful of his auburn hair. “Open up, princess.”
His mouth opened obediently, and I watched my cock slide back in to that warm, inviting hole. I’d been fucking him like this for the last half hour, if the clock on the wall over there hadn’t actually stopped. And Tyler hadn’t tapped out yet.
Not that I expected him to; of all the subs I’d played with, our kinks lined up best. In fact, ever since our first hookup, I’d reserved all my limited spare time for him, blowing off the matches I got on Punishr, which was where I first met him. I’d been spoiled for choice ever since I signed up on the app, but then Tyler Blakely walked into my life—or slid into my DMs, anyway—and since our first play date, I just couldn’t get him out of my head.
The thing was, Ty didn’t live in the city. He was out in the sticks somewhere in Connecticut, taking care of an estate that was deserted most of the year. That hadn’t been much of a problem until recently, when Ty and the head groundskeeper out there were preparing the estate for a wedding. For the last month, his visits to the city had been rare and rushed.
I was struggling with my own schedule. I was lowest of the low on the totem pole at work, which meant I took the shifts I was given and smiled about it. But I’d done whatever I could do in my limited power to accommodate Blakely, because the guy had an oral fixation the likes of which I’d never seen, and my dick had become so accustomed to his body that jerking off alone was unsatisfying. Answering any other call for a hookup, even though I still got them regularly, would have been like drive-through Mickey D’s when what you really want is a fine dining experience.
Speaking of which—
“Up on the bed, Blakely,” I said, giving the chain between his nipple clamps a tug hard enough to make him wince. “I wanna eat that ass before I use it.”
I was tongue-deep in him almost before he was in position, one of my hands pulling his cheek to the side so I could really get in there, the other hand slapping around on the nightstand for the condom I knew I’d put there. I took my time, got him nice and wet, relaxed and whimpering. Every squeeze of him on my exploring tongue got me hotter as I imagined that grip on my dick.
Eventually I suited up, but I was so turned on I dumped half a ton of lube on him when I squished the tube too hard. I caught most of it in my other hand before it slopped down onto the bed, and used it to jerk him off while I started pushing into him. His hole opened up for me without resistance, so I knew I’d done my job well.
“That’s right, take it all,” I panted out, sliding home with a groan of satisfaction. I paused just to let the relief pour over me; it had been two weeks since I’d been inside Tyler Blakely, and that was definitely two weeks too long. “Tell me what you need,” I sighed out.
“Fuck me,” he begged. “I need your load in me.”
The idea of breeding him sped my hips up, even though the only place that load was going was into the rubber. But Tyler knew just what kind of dirty talk got me crazy for him, and I was more than happy to fall into the fantasy that I was going to fill him up, paint my claim all over his insides.
I pumped him deep, both hands on his hips, but just before I shot I reached under to tug on that chain again, made him yelp and buck as I tortured his sensitive nipples. His ass clamped down and I let the orgasm flow through me, tipping my head back as I gave a shout that died into a laugh, and then before the aftershocks died away, with my cock still in him, I gave him a reach-around.
“Come on, Blakely. Give it up for me. Show me how much you love getting that ass reamed.” I used the short, quick strokes that I knew he liked best at that point, and a few seconds later he was filling up my hand with his hot, heavy cream. “Mm, that’s good,” I slurred out, bringing my hand up to watch his jizz drip down my palm. “Yeah, that was good.”
I was pretty out of it. Only Tyler ever got me off that good, like my brains had drained out my dick along with my cum. I massaged his ass with my sticky hand, working his spunk into the globes. My dick was still rock-hard, but it was time to pull out.
He’d suggested going raw before, and the idea drove me crazy, but I was a cautious man. I didn’t know what he was doing when he wasn’t with me.
Drove me crazy thinking about that sometimes.
But I was just his New York hookup. He’d made that clear from the start. I was a way to get his ex out of his head, and a way to relax on his days off. These days, I might even have called us friends with benefits—but if I wished sometimes it might develop into something more, the state line between us would always prevent that. I'd sworn off long-distance.
Never again.
At first I’d loved how low-maintenance Tyler was. I’d had high-maintenance before, and I hadn’t enjoyed it. But the more time Blakely and I spent together, the more I liked him. I liked the way he was always careful to get back on time, and how much responsibility he took around the estate in his job. The head groundskeeper, Stan, was getting on in years, and Tyler always tried to take on the more physical labor himself.
I liked his sense of humor, and his taste in music.
All that and an ass like that? The guy was like my dream sub—and more.
He took a shower, and I watched him from the bed, playing with myself again as I watched that hard, toned body of his all wet and slick. The physical work he did out at the Connecticut estate kept him pretty jacked, and I liked that about him, too. Watching all that male strength give in to my demands, submit to my will—I gave another shiver of pleasure and my dick made a valiant attempt to rally, but I was distracted by the buzz of a text message coming through on my phone.
Even a glance at the message made me clench my teeth so hard they were in danger of cracking.
Miles fucking Vanderhoven.
Gorgeous model, sulky sub, and my very ex-boyfriend. Over a year back, he’d moved to LA for his career, and soon after, accidentally sent me a video of him on his knees sucking dick. Turned out he’d gotten together with some rich old man in Los Angeles.
If it had hurt a little less, I might have congratulated him. Rich old daddy was definitely a step up from broke-ass student. I’d killed things off with Miles—by text
I couldn’t pick up my phone because my hands were still all covered in sex, but I could read the text before the screen went dark again. Even though it was another new number, I knew it was Miles. Entitled and oblivious, demanding to know when we could catch up for a play session.
I was so disgusted that I didn’t even notice Tyler coming out of the bathroom. “Am I really so terrible to look at?” he asked with a grin.
“What? No.” I schooled my face, shaking off the thought of Miles. “Just my fuckboy ex trying to hook up with me again.”
“Oh.” The way Tyler said it was almost-casual as he rubbed off his damp chest with the towel. “You want me to clear out so you can—”
“Hell, no.” I wasn’t missing out on my second-favorite activity with Tyler Blakely, Amazing Sub: cuddling and aftercare. In fact, some days I thought it might even be my first-favorite activity to do with him. So I quickly disabused him of any crazy notions. “He’s an ex for a reason, and he’s not on the radar,” I told Tyler firmly. “I never want to see his stupid face again. You know, if could get out of the city completely while he’s here over New Year’s, I would. Now get that sore, sexy ass over here so we can cuddle.”
He laughed. “Yeah, maybe wash those sticky fingers first?”
He had a point. I took the world’s fastest shower and then I dived back into bed with him, pulling him into my chest, nuzzling into the back of his shoulder.
“I know what you mean about never wanting to see exes again,” he said, which meant he’d been ruminating on our conversation. He was thinking about his own ex, a guy he still mentioned from time to time, which made me wonder if Tyler was really over him.
“I mean, I’m totally over Shane,” he said, “but I’m dreading having to tell all my LA friends. You know? I kind of gave my buddy Jon the impression that we were still together, and when he sent the formal invite for his wedding, Shane was right there as my plus-one.” He gave a big sigh, and I cuddled him closer, rubbing tenderly over his bruised nipples the way I knew he liked.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “If this Jon is your friend, he’d sympathize. Right?”
“Yeah, but…” Another sigh. “I guess at first, I was just too sensitive about it. Really didn’t feel like talking it through. And now it’s so close to the wedding, I don’t want Jon worrying about me. It’s his big day, and I know him—he’ll focus in on me the whole time if he thinks I’m heartbroken.”
“Are you? Heartbroken?” I hoped he couldn’t hear my heart, getting faster and faster the longer he stayed quiet.
“I’m tired of looking,” Tyler said at last. “Jon getting married just kind of rubs it in. Plus everyone back home seems to have spent this year finding the loves of their lives. The last thing I need is a whole group of my LA friends trying to cheer me up over New Year’s.”
“God, how dare they.” My response drew a chuckle from him, at least.
“And when they’re not trying to cheer me up, they’ll be trying to set me up. I just know it. You know what I should do? I should find some guy to stand in and pretend to be Shane for the week, just to save me from the embarrassment,” he chuckled. “That’s kind of what Jon did himself, you know? He and Cooper faked being together, right at the start, to get Cooper’s mom off his back.”
I laughed with him, but when it died out, I was left thinking something crazy. I was still on a high from the sex—it was always so amazing with him—and I felt so comfortable with Tyler there in my arms, so protective of him. So it came out of me without much thought.
“You know what? You should do it. Invite someone to be Fake Shane for a few days, just to get you through the wedding.”
Tyler snorted. “Sure. Great idea. Who the hell would agree to something like that?”
“I would.”
CHAPTER 2
tyler
I turned over in Damon's arms and stared at him, ready to laugh again when he confirmed it was just a joke.
But it wasn’t just a joke, apparently, because he sat there with a questioning face, that sexy, bedroom-eyes stare serious instead of jokey.
“What?” I squeaked at last. “What did you—”
“I’ll do it. I’ll be Fake Shane.”
He wasn’t laughing, so I laughed, an awkward snicker. “Oh, my God, are you serious?”
“Why not?” He warmed to his theme. “I want out of the city while my ex is prowling around. He’s one more text away from officially stalking me, and I don’t want to give him the chance to conveniently ‘run into me’ while he’s in New York. And you don’t want all the commiserations and pitying looks your friends are going to dole out on you in the middle of a huge celebration of love and devotion. So—I rock up with you, play Shane for a few days, get you through.”
“And…you get out of reach of your creepy ex while he’s here over New Year,” I finished. “But Damon, I can’t ask you to do that. It was just a—a crazy idea, a joke.”
For a second, Damon said nothing, but then a smile grew across his face. “Yeah, Blakely, I know. I’m just kidding around.”
“Oh, shit,” I huffed out. “Thank fuck for that. Damn, you really got me, man.” I was still laughing when he pulled me into a gentle headlock and kissed the side of my face up and down, smirking.
Damon was always really cuddly after a session. His aftercare had involved a lot of kissing and snuggling right from the start, after he’d checked in with me that I was cool with that.
I was. Very cool with it.
Once we’d settled down again, he asked, “You staying the night?”
“Mm, it’s tempting.” His arms were wrapped around me, warm and comfortable. “But I need to make it back to the estate tonight.”
Damon actually pouted. “But it’s already late. We could get up early—”
“I have to help Stan with something first thing in the morning.” I was interrupted by a yawn. Stan was getting on in years. I didn’t like him having to do too much on his own. “I need to get back tonight. I’ve stayed in the city longer than I expected to.”
I’d stayed over at Damon's last night—Saturday—and had meant to leave in the early afternoon today. But time and our desires had gotten away from us.
I would rather have stayed over again. I didn’t relish the idea of driving all the way back to Connecticut in the dark, and through the snow, although Stan had insisted I take one of the estate Jeeps instead of my old Ford. I would much rather have stayed right there in Damon Kirk’s arms all night, gazing into his chisel-jawed face and listening to the sounds of the city outside.
But I had to leave.
Recently I’d been coming into New York more frequently than usual, taking every day off as an opportunity to drive the miles and meet up with Damon. Before I’d met him, I’d only come into the city every few months, but once I’d gotten a taste for him…
God, I kept coming back.
The messy dark hair that contrasted with the denim-blue of his eyes, the graceful, perfectly proportioned body, his dirty demands—they kept me coming back. Damon was slimmer than me but taller, his muscles long and flexible where mine were compact and solid from all the work I did around Northlake. And his large, curved cock was the perfect angle to light me up when he fucked me. The guy absolutely nailed my prostate with every stroke.
