Fake It 'Til You Break It(8)

His body moves slowly, methodically almost, like he’s taking his time with her, completely unrushed and enjoying, giving her long, slow strokes.

Deep, full strokes?

I take a deep breath, only for my eyes to widen a second later.

Oh my god!

I jump backward again.

Why am I watching him have sex, and better yet, why am I imagining the way he’s fucking her?

How he’d fuck me?

Wait, what?

No!

I growl, but my hands make no move to close the window, and my feet don’t carry me to my bed. No, my eyes close and my ears perk.

The night is dead silent, so even the slightest wallow of water reaches my ears. It’s light at first, and then louder, more of a slap against the cement edge.

The moaning starts again. Brash, brazen moaning, both male and female, and I have no self-control. I look again.

He has her on the edge now, her forearms braced against the cement, fingers curled around the edge, head dropped back.

My body grows hot and I swallow. “Good fucking god,” I whisper, my hand moving to my throat.

They’ve moved to the opposite side, the front of his body now facing mine, allowing me to see the cuts of his chest and abs, and the delicious way they tighten with every thrust forward.

I don’t realize I’ve moved closer to the window until my forehead hits the glass and my phone falls from my hand, dropping right onto the edge of my toe.

I yelp and fall against the glass, and then I freeze, my eyes shooting wide.

“Oh no...” I whisper to myself, squeezing my eyes closed.

Did they hear me?

Did they see the shake of the open blinds?

I take a deep breath and perk my ears.

When more moaning is caught, I decide it’s safe, that they have no idea I went full-on Peeping Tammy.

I open my eyes and I’m instantly rooted in place, heat washing over my body in such a rush I grow lightheaded, my palm flying up to plant on the wall beside me.

They heard me, or more, he heard me, saw me. Caught me.

His eyes are lasered on my window. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say locked directly on mine, darkness be damned.

Nico has her by the hips now, her ass perched how he wants it as he delivers one hell of a show.

A show I couldn’t look away from if I tried, a performance I feel deep in my core. One that, admittedly, has need spreading through my body as he works the cum from hers.

A few minutes go by where I can’t tell if they’re moving at all, and then he suddenly slips back, the bubbles of the hot tub spanning across his torso.

Slowly, his shoulders lift, Nico now standing to his full height, and my hand spans across my chest, my body rising to its tippy toes of its own accord, just in case the move allows me to see an inch lower.

Just one more inch to the prize—

My thoughts are interrupted when the girl glides around him, running her fingers across his slick skin as she goes.

In all her naked glory, she steps from the pool like a gleaming goddess, shifting to the side to grab a towel, and that’s when I see her face.

Sandra fucking Black.





All morning I told myself I’d walk into class today with my head held high.

I’m not embarrassed, and it’s no big deal and who knows, maybe I overreacted and he was zoned out. Didn’t know I was their willing audience.

I repeat this mantra the entire drive to school, and by the time I’m turning the engine off, I’m feeling good.

Lipstick in hand, I flip down the overhead mirror and take my time applying before stepping out. I shove the door closed, and turn, a gasp leaving me when an unexpected body blocks me in.

Nico.

My hand flies to my chest, attempting to settle my pulse. “You scared the shit out of me,” I tell him.

But Nico doesn’t speak, instead sliding his feet closer, leaving only inches between us, so I push back against the car.

His stare is unwavering, giving me no insight as to what’s on his mind and causing me to grow restless.

I fidget but don’t look away as he cocks his head.

“You a fan of porn, D?”

“I—” Shit.

Nico plants his hands at the curve of my hood, his arms flexing so damn close to my face my mind transports back to last night, to the tight grip he had on the rock edge of the spa, to the vision of his muscles flexing as he slid— A raspy chuckle leaves him, and he pushes off.

“You know, I’d have invited you over, VIP seats had I known. Bet Sandra would have been all right with it, she’s first string material and she knows it.”

That rouses me, and I shove off the car with a glare. “I thought you said Alex was the one sleeping with Sandra?”

He only licks his lips.

“Weird, right?” I keep going. “Since it was you I saw—”

“Watched,” he cuts me off, leaning closer. “You watched me fuck her.”

Oh, screw it!

“You know what, yeah, I did. Until the final bow, in fact,” I sass. “If you knew I was watching you guys, why’d you keep going?”

Very slowly, a single, dark eyebrow raises, his tone is even more patronizing than the move. “You’d expect me to stop?”

Right.

As if he could have stopped amid that.

They were so lost in each other they didn’t even – or couldn’t even – realize how loud they were being.