Page 42 of Don't Fall For Your Fake Boyfriend

That pussy didn’t even hang out with us today. He told Paxton he had a headache. So tonight will be the first time I’ll see him since I punched him.

I won’t do anything as much as I want to. I’d never disrespect Hartford and Paxton like that. This is her night and I’m not going to ruin it.

However, I make no promise that I won’t be doing things to Willow while no one is looking.

I smile as I button the last button on my shirt.

Maybe this dinner won’t be so bad.

Chapter 19

Willow

It was hard to leave the hotel room earlier. And I do mean hard. After I curl my hair, Brock appears like he’s in pain.

His eyes scrunch together as he gazes at me. “I’m so fucking turned on,” he utters.

“My lipstick didn’t take too long to apply,” I say, moving closer toward him.

He raises a brow. “What?”

I slink to my knees, unzipping his pants. “Oh shit,” he says, stepping forward just a bit. “Willow, are you sure?”

I glance up at him and smile, my hands roaming over his thick thighs. “I need to do this, Brock. I want to make you happy.”

His hands land in my hair, fisting a few strands. “You already kind of do.”

My heart pitter patters in my chest, but I brush away the feeling of Brock saying things like this to me. This is only temporary. I need to keep my heart out of it. I gaze up at him, my heart betraying my mind. I’m trying to keep feelings out of the equation, but the way Brock stares down at me like I’ve completely rocked his world, makes my chest tighten. I pull out his dick, swiping my thumb over the bead of precum leaking out of the tip. “You’re so big,” I tell him again, amazed by his size and girth.

“Willow, you say all the right things,” he says with a laugh.

I swipe my tongue over the spot my thumb was. “You do all the right things,” I tell him before opening my mouth wide to fit him into it.

“Ah, fuck,” he groans.

I suck him deeper down my throat, letting Brock keep a hold of my head.

He pushes me slightly, further down his dick and I nearly gag on it. Tears well at the corners of my eyes, but I quickly breathe through my nose as I keep sucking. “Fuck, Willow. I haven’t had my dick sucked this good…in well, ever. Keep sucking me. Deep down your throat.”

I love his dirty talk. It makes me feel all tingly inside knowing I’m making him react this way. I keep going, hollowing out my cheeks as I suck him deeper. I find a good rhythm, bobbing my head and using my hand at the base. I keep jerking him with my hand, twisting my wrist to make sure he enjoys the pressure. I keep sucking him, letting my tongue trace down the vein that runs along the full length of him. I even use my tongue, digging it into the slit at the top of the head, milking all the precum he’s got. I keep this circuit up, sucking, twisting, jerking, and licking at him until I feel his knees buckle and he leans forward, one hand braced against the wall for support. “You suck dick like a pornstar, Willow. Fuck me.” He thrusts his hips, and I keep working him, sucking him, wanting to get my man—I mean, Brock—off.

“Almost there. Willow, your mouth is magical. Do you like the way I fuck your mouth? How my cock spreads your lips wide open?”

I nod, humming my answer against his dick, and he loses it.

His come is quick and fast as it explodes into my mouth. I swallow him down instantly, milking the last of his come with my mouth. “Fuck,” he moans out as he jerks slightly toward the end of his release, his hips giving one last final push. “I wasn’t…I can’t…” he says, unable to complete his sentence. “I never expected that.”

I swallow the last of his release, smiling up at him as I swipe at my chin. He helps me stand, and I laugh lightly. “I’ll be expecting you to return the favor,” I tell him, not really meaning it. I’d never give oral pleasure in the hopes of receiving it back.

“Name the place. Anywhere. Anytime. I think…” he stops talking, momentarily stunned before he says anything.

“I have to reapply my lipstick.”

His hand wraps around the back of my neck as he pulls me forward, crashing his lips against mine. We’re kissing, and it feels like—more. Like something’s happening between us, but I quickly remind myself that it's clearly just me catching the feelings, not him.

I break the kiss. “We’re going to be late,” I tell him, rushing over to grab my clutch and fish out my lipstick. I lean into the mirror, swiping the red shade over my full lips.

Brock steps closer. “My new favorite shade,” he says, pointing to the stick of lipgloss in my hand. “I love having that color all over my cock.”