Maybe we can fake it, p.17
Maybe We Can Fake It, page 17
“Hey!” I protest. Though, really, I can’t argue that.
“Travis is upstairs if you’re looking for him,” she says without turning to me.
I falter as I’m pouring coffee into my thermos. Why would she assume I’m looking for Travis? As if he’s all I think about.
He’s not.
Even if I can’t get the feel of his hard cock in my hand out of my mind.
Wait a minute.
“Travis is upstairs? Why? What’s he even doing here? I thought you didn’t need his help anymore.”
“I told him I don’t, but he wanted to check in and make sure everything was good to go for tomorrow. And he was gonna help bring the booth over to the green and get it set up.”
“He doesn’t need to do that.” There are people here who I actually pay to do these jobs. I don’t want Travis to feel obligated to help with everything. He’s already done so much.
Addison continues artfully placing mango slices as I come back over to her workstation with my coffee. “I let him know Leo and Paul were set to do it, but he said he doesn’t trust either of them to do it right, and he’d feel better knowing it wasn’t going to fall apart on us.”
Despite his lack of faith in the staff I hired, a burst of happiness shoots through me at hearing how much Travis cares. Even when I don’t ask him for help, he’s still helping me. He might be all gruff and growly with people sometimes, but I think it’s an act. If people knew just how good of a person he is, they’d walk all over him.
I need to be careful that I’m not doing that. I’ll make sure to let him know things at the inn are covered and he doesn’t need to worry about us anymore. Addison got in a bunch of applications, so she’ll be able to hire more help once all this craziness is over.
“But wait. If he came to help with the booth, then why is he upstairs?”
Addison barely lifts one shoulder in a half-assed shrug, still laser-focused on her task. “He heard one of the cleaning staff mention a wobbly bed, and I assume he went to fix it.”
“Oh geez.”
That man, I swear.
Taking my coffee with me, I leave the kitchen and head upstairs to check the rooms. Most of the guest room doors are closed, but it doesn’t take long to find the open one. And when I spot Travis, I damn near swallow my tongue. He’s on the floor, ass up in the air, fiddling with one of the bed’s legs.
And did I mention his hot, denim-clad ass is up in the air?
I shamelessly ogle him a few more moments, then step farther into the room, closing and locking the door behind me.
At the sound of that, his head swings my way. “Hey,” he says. Then he goes back to fixing the bed like he doesn’t know he’s the most perfect man ever.
“You do not have to do this.” I take a sip of coffee before setting the thermos on the dresser.
“It’s no trouble,” he replies. His ass is still pointed up, and I’m two seconds away from marching over to him and smacking it. That’s not typically my thing, but man. I want to feel the muscle give and the heat of him under my palm. “There, that should do it.”
When he stands, black shirt tight across his chest and eyes bright like he’s happy to see me, I can’t hold back any longer.
“You are the fucking best,” I tell him, striding forward until I’m inches from him, and then stepping even closer so he’s forced to step back. He knocks into the bed, and I waste no time in pushing him down onto it. His body bounces slightly on the mattress, but bless him, the bed doesn’t wobble at all.
“What are you doing?” he asks, a mixture of confusion and amusement on his face.
With a mischievous smile, I jab one finger into his chest, encouraging him to lie down, and I straddle him as soon as he complies. My shoes are on the bed, which compromises the inn’s standards of cleanliness. But running my hands up Travis’s sides, I couldn’t care less.
As I lean down to kiss him, he threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me in, so I’m not sure who ends up kissing whom. But it doesn’t matter. I suck on his bottom lip, then pull back to nip at it before sucking on it again. Once I let go, he licks at my lips, and I open for him. His hand on the back of my head provides a gentle pressure that keeps my face close to his, and I’ve never minded anything less.
But soon I ache to get my mouth on him in other places. Places I’ve yet to explore. We’ve fooled around a couple times now—a fact which still blows my mind—but I haven’t had a taste of his cock yet, and that needs to be remedied immediately.
I whine, which makes him release me, allowing me to pull back and move down to his neck. Tugging his shirt collar aside, I bite down on the place where his neck meets his shoulder. He groans and his hands come around my back, gripping me tightly.
Shuffling myself so I can get to his stomach, I ruck up his shirt and lick a line down his abs with the tip of my tongue. They flutter under the treatment, so I lick my way back up and then down again. Then I switch to using teeth, which earns me another, louder groan and his hand back in my hair.
I bite, and he tugs. And when he lets out a raspy, “Fuck, baby,” my dick twitches almost painfully in the confines of my slacks.
As I work on getting his jeans undone, desperate to free his cock, my mind keeps hearing baby, baby, baby...
It was a heat of the moment thing, I know that. But damn did it feel good hearing him say it to me. I wonder what else I can make him say if I try.
Once I’ve gotten the fly of his jeans open, I carefully climb off his lap and sink to my knees on the floor. I tug at the jeans, and he lifts his ass so I can slide them past it. Then he props himself up on his hands, staring down at me with glazed eyes as I pull the jeans all the way down to his ankles. His cock is tenting his boxers obscenely, threatening to poke through the slit.
Well. Can’t threaten me with a good time.
“What are you doing?” he asks again, a little breathless.
I slide the boxers down to his knees, allowing his cock to spring free. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“But are you sure? I mean. You’re at work.”
Yeah, I keep forgetting that part. Oh well. Now that I’ve got his thick cock in my face, glistening with precum, there’s nothing short of guests waltzing into this room with their luggage in tow that will stop me from getting him off.
Instead of replying, I wrap one hand around him and take a little taste at the tip. Mmm.
When I slide his cockhead past my lips, he abandons holding himself up, and now he’s lying down so I can’t see his face. Even though I’d love to see his expressions as I take him apart, I can still tell how much he’s enjoying it by the jerky movements of his hips and the little moans he tries to cut off.
Though it’s possible I’m enjoying this even more. Honestly, I love giving head. Maybe it’s part of being a people pleaser, but it’s also such a powerful feeling. Being on your knees for someone but being able to drive them crazy, controlling when and how they get to come.
I’d like to take my time teasing him, wait until he’s begging for it. Would he beg? Fuck, that would be so hot. But I remind myself of where we are. It’s not like I can get fired, since I own the place, but still. Making this quick is probably a good idea.
I suck him down farther, and damn, he really is thick. I only get about half of him in before my mouth feels so fucking full. But I can do this. I know the things I’m good at, and this is one of them. Relaxing my throat, I take him in deeper, letting my tongue lick along the underside of his shaft as I go. He seems to like that, judging by the way his thighs tremble slightly and he scrunches up the blanket in his hands.
To speed things along, I cup his balls gently, rolling them in my palm, and then rub my finger along his taint. I’m tempted to dip lower, see if he’ll let me play with his ass. I really can’t gauge if he’d be into that. I picture him as a total top, but even tops like a finger or two sometimes, right? At least, I’ve known some that do. It’s probably best, though, to save that question for another day and just achieve the goal I set out to accomplish here.
Making Travis come down my throat.
I move up and down his shaft in earnest now, swallowing around him when I have him all the way down, and swirling my tongue around the head when I come up. Over and over, faster and faster, until he chokes out, “Brenden, fuck, I’m gonna—”
That’s all the warning I get before he unloads. And damn, it’s a lot. But I manage to swallow it all, proud of myself for not leaving a cum stain on the blanket. Although I should change the bedding anyway, right?
Oh, hell.
Travis is still panting hard after his orgasm, while reality comes slamming back into me, and I think about what I’ve just done. I’m in a guest room. On my knees in my work pants on this hardwood floor with Travis’s bare ass lying on the bed. I’ve never done something like this at work.
And yet, do I regret it?
Not even a little bit.
Travis spends a few more moments panting. Then he sits up and pulls his jeans back up, rebuttoning them with clumsy fingers.
I grin smugly, because I did that to him. Me. Little innocent Brenden Sanderson.
Ha. As if.
Standing, I brush off the knees of my pants. Thankfully, they’re not dirty. Kudos to my cleaning staff.
“Can I help you with that?”
When I look at Travis, I find his gaze pointed down at my crotch. Oh. I had so much fun sucking him off that I didn’t even think about myself, but yup. I’m hard as a rock.
I shake my head regretfully. “I’ll be okay. This was... um... I should probably get back to work.”
All of a sudden, I feel a bit awkward. In the heat of the moment, I was more than happy to take charge, but now standing here facing him, I wonder what he’s thinking of me. How he feels. Because I...
I really liked doing that with him. And while this friends with benefits arrangement is convenient while we’re already faking a relationship, I’m starting to think I’d like to keep doing this even after Elise and Grant leave.
But that’s dumb.
Travis has never wanted me before in all the years I’ve known him, so how could I expect anything to have changed now?
Convenient. That’s what this is for him. A way for him to get off while he’s busy helping me out. With all the time he’s spending with me, he obviously has no time to go looking for hookups elsewhere. But May’s grandparents will be gone soon, and then he won’t have to keep spending his nights at my house. He’ll be free to get his rocks off wherever and with whomever he chooses.
It's silly to think that, when he has his options back, he might still choose me.
So I should just enjoy him while I’ve got him.
He clears his throat as he stands. “How about I return the favor tonight?”
I force a smile and say, “Sounds good,” because I’m not turning that down.
But even if it’s only an expression, I don’t like to think of him getting me off as another favor he’s doing for me. That feels kind of gross and wrong. Though the way he smiles at me now—warm and eager-looking—makes it seem like that’s not how he sees it. I can only hope not.
“I need to change these linens before anyone checks in,” I tell him, sending a guilty glance toward the rumpled bed.
He chuckles almost shyly. “Right. I’ll let you get to it.”
“Thanks for fixing the wobbly leg.”
His laugh is fuller this time. “Pretty sure you already thanked me really fucking well.”
That makes my face heat up, and I’m not sure how to respond. But he solves this by leaning in, not even hesitating about kissing me after I had his dick in my mouth. It’s brief, though, and then he says, “See you later,” before walking out of the room.
In his absence, I stare at the bed, kind of not believing that happened. What the heck has gotten into me?
No, not what. Who.
Travis fucking Reed. That’s who.
He’s gotten into my pants and into my head, and I’m not sure how easy it’ll be to get him out again. But it sure would be nice if maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TRAVIS
Brenden Sanderson is going to be the death of me, I swear.
How the heck am I supposed to concentrate on setting up this booth for him when I keep remembering exactly how fantastic his warm mouth felt wrapped around my cock? It’s a miracle I haven’t hammered my finger instead of a nail yet.
Leo, one of Brenden’s employees who came with me to help, luckily hasn’t noticed my distracted state. He’s not the most observant guy. Sure, he follows directions fine, but I think I was right not to trust him being in charge of this job.
We’re not the only ones out here on the green getting things ready for the festival. People are bustling around everywhere. Some of them are holding shouted conversations with one another from opposite sides of the green while they work, which also isn’t helping my concentration.
This is exactly the kind of town hoopla I usually like to avoid. But for Brenden, I can endure it.
My phone rings, and I pause what I’m doing to take it out of my pocket. I accept my dad’s call right as Leo carelessly swings around a piece of plywood and almost knocks me in the head.
Ducking swiftly, I let out a curse rather than a greeting.
“Travis?” my dad says, sounding alarmed. “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” I send a pointed look Leo’s way, and he grimaces apologetically before carrying on with what he was doing. “How are you?”
A vague, grumbling sound is the only answer I get to that question. Then Dad says, “I need you to do me a favor if you can.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
As he explains that one of his employees is on a job site and needs a part picked up and brought over to him, I continue directing Leo with hand gestures. We’re just about done here, so I should have time to run the errand.
“No problem,” I tell him.
“Thanks,” Dad says. “Christ, I can’t wait to get back to work. All this sitting around on my ass is killing me.”
I understand where he’s coming from, but thinking about his fall is still a bit scary for me. “You’re resting, which is what you’re supposed to do,” I remind him. “Because falling off a ladder is what actually could’ve killed you. So when you do go back to work, you need to promise me you’ll be more careful, okay?”
“Hey, who’s the parent here?” he gripes.
“Dad. Please.”
He heaves out a loud sigh. “Yeah, yeah, all right. I hear ya.”
While listening to him complain about something else, I gather stuff up so me and Leo can leave. As I’m finishing, I spot Elise and Grant rounding the gazebo and strolling down the path that cuts through the middle of the green. Elise smiles and waves when she sees me.
I give her a wave in return, though the gesture feels unnatural. I don’t make it a habit of waving to people I spot in town. If I did that, then I’d never get anything done, because every person would want to stop and gossip. I don’t have the time for that or the interest.
But May’s grandparents would likely be coming over to talk whether I waved or not, so I hastily tell my dad I need to go and promise to pick up that part for his employee. Can’t have him overhearing anything incriminating Elise or Grant might say.
“Do you mind throwing this stuff in the back of my truck?” I ask Leo as they approach us. “I’ll be right there to drive you back to the inn.”
He takes everything without complaint, and I’m ashamed of my relief at getting rid of both him and my dad. I don’t want anything to blow Brenden’s cover, but really, I’m worried about my own secret just as much. And I guess it’s a little ridiculous that I’m a grown ass man still afraid of what my dad might think of me if he found out I wasn’t straight.
But I don’t have the time to dwell on my issues, because Elise and Grant reach me right as Leo walks off the other direction.
“Travis, hi!” Elise greets me. “It’s a gorgeous day, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” I reply, offering her a smile.
Grant gestures to what’s set up behind me. “Is this your booth? I thought Brenden said you refuse to have a booth at the festivals.”
I frown, because while that’s true, it kind of makes me sound like an ass, doesn’t it? “I serve people all day long inside the diner,” I explain somewhat defensively. “I’d rather not walk outside and have to do the same thing.”
Elise laughs. “I suppose that’s fair. So what’s this then?”
“Oh, it’s Brenden’s. The booth for the inn is always a big draw. His chef, Addison, has been baking for days to prepare.”
The way they’re both smiling at me now is weird.
“You do a lot for him, don’t you?” Grant asks.
Crap.
“No, I, uh...” That’s exactly the kind of thing Brenden doesn’t want them to think. He wants them to think he’s capable of doing things on his own. Which he is.
“It’s obvious you really care about him,” Elise says.
Oh. Maybe my instinct to help him reveals more about my feelings for him than his capabilities.
“It’s clear how much you care about May too,” she goes on. “And May adores you. She speaks very highly of you. We’re glad Brenden found such a good man.”
Are my ears turning red? They feel hot. I’m not used to people singing my praises.
“I care about them both a lot,” I admit, ducking my head. “But believe me, I’m lucky Brenden even looked my way. He’s so... warm. And charming. He could have anyone he wanted.”
“And he wants you,” Grant says. “So that says something about you.”
Okay, my ears must be red. Probably my cheeks too.
But Brenden doesn’t want me. Not in the way I want him to. He might want my body for now, but he doesn’t want all of me. My anti-social tendencies and general attitude don’t make good boyfriend material.
