Kiss and Fake Up Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement1

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"Was that your first…" Her cheeks flush. "Your first blow job?"

"Yeah," I say.

"Really?" Surprise fills her face. "You weren't getting head from all those girls who hung around all summer."

"What girls? You were the girl around all summer. And I wouldn't have forgotten that."

"Did you think about that?" Her blush deepens. "After? Is that what you meant by friends?"

"Cass—"

"I won't tell Daphne." She looks up at me. "I thought about you, back then. I still do, sometimes."

Fuck me.

"I just… fuck. Do I sound as desperate as I feel?"

No. She's vulnerable and it's sexy. Way too sexy. "You know I liked you. I know you liked me. We both know why it didn't happen."

"You kissed me."

I remember. I remember every moment.

"At my sixteenth birthday party," she continues. "Then, the next day, you acted like it didn't happen. At first, I thought you were fucking with me. Then you started drinking more and I thought maybe you really did forget. Maybe you blacked out."

I did. I forgot large chunks of that night. Enough, I tried to pretend the entire thing didn't happen. After all, if I remembered kissing Cassie when I was relatively sober, what the fuck did I do when I was drunk? "I didn't forget." I tried to forget, but I never could. "I realized it couldn't happen."

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

She deserves the truth. "Because I can't face anything hard." Because I still can't talk about this with anyone. I can barely say it. I'm Damon, and I'm an alcoholic. It feels as cheesy and bullshit as every twelve-step meeting ever has.

She nods, absorbing the information without reacting. "How long were you with her? The older woman?"

"A few weeks. But I mostly think about that first time. The thrill of it. The trust."

"Anything more recent?" she asks.

I should say let's text Bryce. Or how about we go. Or sex is not a smart subject to cover. I don't. "It's your turn."

She looks up at me. "You have to promise you won't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?"

"That you won't judge me. Call me a loser. Or a prude… or anything."

"I promise."

She takes a deep breath and she begins.

Chapter Twenty-One

Damon

"There is one night I remember." Cassie fights a blush. "A similar situation, actually. We were outside at a party, by a pool, like we are tonight—"

That puts a very vivid image in my head, but I try to push it aside.

"Only it was winter, so it was freezing, and no one else was outside, and we kept a lot of clothes on. She was gorgeous, even in her coat. Especially."

I try not to react to the pronoun. It shouldn't make a difference. No, it helps. It makes it harder to imagine myself in the scenario.

"I kept mine on, too, but she rolled my top up my stomach and chest, so it was all pressed here." She draws a line above her breasts. "I was on display for her. Only for her. It was just…"

Hot as fuck. The images in my head are way too vivid. Only there's no one else in them. It's me and Cassie, right here, her dress pushed to her waist, her nipple in my mouth, her groans in my ear.

"I guess that night with Frederick was the same," she continues, without noting the lust in my eyes. "We were at the perfect point in our trip. We'd been in Paris long enough we were past our jet lag, but not so long the city lost its magic. It was beautiful. All those old buildings against the big, blue sky. After sunset, we found a quiet bar. I was wearing a snug crop top, one that didn't require a bra. It wasn't quite as low as this." She motions to the neckline of her dress. "But it was just as easy for him to slip his hand under the fabric. To touch me in front of everyone. There. Then here." She runs her fingers over her thigh. "He teased me for so long, I nearly came from it. Then he rubbed me over my jeans and I did come from it."

Fuck. I hate that bastard, but that is the hottest thing I've heard in months.

Teasing Cassie for ages—

Driving her out of her mind—

It's like I'm sixteen again. I'm going to come in my fucking slacks.

This is such a bad idea.

The worst idea.

No. The second worst idea. Just below stopping.

This is the best I've felt in a long time. I'm not numb in a chemical bliss. I'm experiencing every moment of agony and ecstasy.

"We went back to the hotel," she says. "I was enthralled. I was lost in it. It was the best I ever, the best we ever… there were other nights, too. For a long time, we were so good there. Then it just stopped and I didn't understand why."


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