Fake Out (Fake Boyfriend Book 1)

My head slumps on my desk. Criminal adjudication will be the death of my degree. All I need is a pass, but it’s not sinking in. It’s not even a subject I’ll use, but I need it to graduate.

Seven weeks. Seven.

My phone dings, and I’ve never been happier for the interruption. Only, when I see it’s a text from Stacy with the thumbnail of an article about Matt Jackson, my heart sinks. Something tells me I don’t want to open that link.

Another message comes through.

Stacy:

You fucked it up.

Yeah, I did. Like a masochist, I click on what she sent me, and sure enough, photos of Maddox shirtless and opening the door to a shitty roadside motel are splashed all over the same rag site that outed Matt. Maddox is with Matt. In his hometown.

“Guess I know why he didn’t want me to come home with him this weekend,” I mutter to myself.

And the thing is, I can’t even hate him for it. Or blame him. I had my chance, and I pushed him away. We aren’t together; he can do whatever he wants. I told him to go experiment with guys, so I can’t be pissed that he’s doing it.

But I am pissed, even if I don’t have the right to be.

My fingers hover over his name in the texting app. I shouldn’t text. I should leave him alone. Freakishly, with his text window open, he messages me.

Maddox:

Can we set up a time this week to meet? I have something I need to talk to you about.

And just like that, I squash the masochist in me. I don’t want to meet up with Maddox so he can tell me he’s with Matt. Seen the photos, thanks.

Damon:

Finals are kicking my ass. Sorry.

Maddox:

It’s important.

Damon:

So are finals.

I try to tell myself the photos might not mean what I think they mean, but Maddox half-naked in a motel room with his ex? Pretty sure it’s exactly what it looks like.

***

Another week of school over, six more to go, but I’m burned out on studying. So when Noah sends a text with an invite to have a pizza and beer night at his house, I only hesitate for a few minutes before agreeing.

I need a break. If I try to memorize anything else for my upcoming exams, I think I’ll be pushing old information out. Like how to walk and talk properly. I’m at serious risk of turning into a bumbling crazy person who talks in nothing but legislative laws.

I find Wyatt and Noah in Noah’s living room, drinking and playing video games. I have no idea which game, but they’re shooting people; COD, WOW, OMG—who knows. I wasn’t born with the gamer gene.

“Thank fuck,” I say when my friend Aron appears with a beer for me.

“Hi to you too,” he says. “First, you don’t invite me to meet your boy toy, and now you don’t even say hi?”

Aron’s one of the guys I purposefully didn’t invite a few weekends ago because he’s way too hot with his killer smile and would love Maddox.

“Maddox isn’t my boy toy,” I grumble. That honor belongs to Matt-fucking-Jackson. They’ve been in more tabloids this week. Apparently, Matt’s in New York now. Not that I’ve been stalking them in the news or anything …

“Maddox wouldn’t hook up with me because of Damon,” Noah says without taking his eyes off the screen. “Yet, Damon still found a way to fuck it up.”

“Well done, man.” Aron claps me on the back.

“Fuck you very much.”

When Skylar walks through the entrance and our eyes lock, she bites her lip and looks away. I’m about to ask if she’s okay when Maddox trails in behind her. With him.

Great. Just great.

Matt’s got his head down, but he’s wearing a Bulldogs cap. Way to stay incognito, man.

Skylar approaches and hugs me hello, so I lower my head and whisper in her ear. “Traitor.”

“You told me to be friends with him, and that’s what I’m doing.”

Maddox approaches and playfully shoves me. “You’ve been avoiding me again, Dik.”

I wonder if he’s using my nickname or actually calling me a dick. I’ll pretend it’s the former, but I can’t be sure. “Busy.” More beer goes down my throat, and then I watch my bottle intently.

Interesting, it’s a brew from Staten Island. Good to know.

Out of the corner of my eye, Maddox frowns. “Uh, well, are you too busy to meet Matt?” He pulls Matt forward. “I brought him here specifically to meet you.”

Huh? “Why?” I scowl.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Matt says to Maddox. “Just drop it, okay? I should go back to the hotel.”

Yeah, you should. I suppose I should feel sympathy toward him with what he’s going through, but oops, can’t find any fucks to give.

“No,” Maddox says. He turns to the group. “Everyone, this is Matt. Be nice.” Then his blue eyes bore into me. Their usual crystal clarity is dulled by a stormy grey. “Damon, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Nah, I’m cool here.” Being an asshole sucks.

“I’m sorry,” Maddox says sarcastically, “that wasn’t a request.”

“Oooh, someone’s in trouble,” Noah singsongs. “Take him upstairs. First door on your right.”

“Thanks,” Maddox says and grabs my forearm. I hand off my beer to Aron as I’m dragged into Noah’s guestroom—a room I’ve crashed in many times when I couldn’t be bothered going home. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Maddox yelling. This is new.

“Nothing.”

“Really? So, you’re sticking to the you’ve been busy lie? At least when you were avoiding me a few weeks ago, you gave excuses. This past week has been radio silence.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Surprised you’ve noticed with all the time you’ve been spending with Matt. The tabloids love you guys. You’re going to be the it couple of football.”

“What has Matt got to do with it?” His eyes widen. “Wait, are you jealous? Mr. You-Should-Hook-Up-With-Everyone-Except-Me doesn’t like that I’m spending time with another guy?” He breaks into a smile, and it pisses me off.

“No. I’m wondering why you’re bothering with me when you have Matt.”

Maddox shakes his head. “Skylar’s right. You are an idiot.”

“Huh?”

“Matt and I are just friends, you jackass. Last weekend, I went to visit him because the way he was outed was so fucking wrong I wanted to make sure he was okay. He was a wreck, so I invited him home for the weekend to get away from the vultures circling him. I had my own family drama going on, which if you’d answered any of my texts, I would’ve told you about, and so we stayed in a motel room—with two beds—under my name so Matt wouldn’t be followed. But when I visited him in Philly, I had to give my name, and someone leaked it to the tabloids or the paparazzi overheard; I’m not entirely sure. They found out where I was from and tracked us to the motel. Nothing happened.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Then Matt came to New York to talk to you, because his current management team is screwing him over in contract negotiations. I thought you could use a client considering you don’t have any.”

“Oh.” Apparently, my whole vocabulary consists of only this word now.

“I recommended you because you’re not a dick. Guess that was a wrong assessment, huh?”

Yep.

“You want to act all jealous when you’ve made it clear nothing can happen between us, that’s okay. But don’t be an idiot. There’s a high-profile client within your grasp. Don’t let me be the reason you don’t pursue it.”

I stand completely stunned and unmoving, barely even blinking. Maddox scoffs and pushes past me. My head screams at me to stop him, but my body doesn’t move. Only when he reaches the door, do I find the courage to get my feet going in his direction.

“Maddy.” My hand goes over his head, pushing the door closed so he can’t escape, and he turns to face me.

This close, we share the same breath, and we’re both breathing hard. His eyes are either hooded or narrowed; I can’t tell if he’s angry or turned on, but I don’t give him a chance to let me know which, because I move in and fuse my mouth to his. He accepts it willingly—eagerly.

Resisting him has made the buildup to this more explosive. His tongue, his lips, his mouth seeking mine, it’s as natural and inevitable as magnets finding each other.

I tried to be strong, I tried to hold back, but I know now it would’ve been impossible to keep up forever.

His back hits the door. Our tongues tangle, and there’s no hesitance on his part. He dives in fully, and he tastes the same as I remember but better. He’s either recently cleaned his teeth or chewed on gum, because his mouth is minty.

With my hips pushed up against his, I can feel him hardening. My body instinctively rocks into him, and I’m hard as an iron bar. All he’s done is kiss me.

Weeks of thinking about doing this again has my hands shamelessly wandering all over him. I grip his hair and tilt his head back while my lips trail down his neck. My free hand finds its way to the button and zipper of his jeans.

“Damon—”

“Can’t talk now.” We need to, but I can’t.

“Okay.” He clears his throat. “But I was going to warn you that I’ve been fantasizing about this since I met you. I’m already close to coming.”

A growl gets stuck in the back of my throat. I kiss him again and pull him off the door. Without breaking our lips apart, I drag him over to the bed. The voice yelling at me to slow down gets pushed away by my needy cock. The rational side—or maybe it’s my horny side—reassures me this isn’t like what happened with Eric. Maddox is sober. He’s been interested for over a month; this isn’t a fleeting experiment … At least, I hope it’s not.

But the biggest thing that keeps running through my head is what he told me in his apartment: he’s not Eric.

I push him down and land on top of him, our mouths moving in sync. It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone I’ve forgotten how awesome kissing is, but it’s not nearly enough. Not with Maddox.

His stomach muscles contract as I move my hand between us. I grip his cock through his jeans, and he throws his head back on the mattress. We’re hanging half off the bed, but I can’t bring myself to pull off him and move us farther up.

His moans are intoxicating, and I’m lost in everything Maddox.

Instead of pulling away like I should, I move down his body, slinking to the floor on my knees. I’ve barely got his jeans and boxers down his thick thighs before I’m engulfing his cock with my mouth, taking him to the back of my throat. My deep-throating skills are rusty, and it doesn’t help Maddox is hung.

“Fuck!” he hisses.

I pull off him. “We have to use our inside voices. There are people downstairs.”

He leans up on his elbows. “If you’re going to do that again and need me to be quiet, you’re going to have to gag me.”

“That can be arranged.” I slap my hand over his mouth. He mumbles something against my hand. “What was that? I can’t hear you.”

He shakes my hand off. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Yeah, I am. Now, shh.” I cover his mouth again.

He chuckles, but it dies when my tongue lands on him and circles around the tip of his cock. I’d love to take my time, savor his taste and the soft moans coming from him, but there are people downstairs, and if I’m completely honest, I’m scared he’s going to freak out any moment.

It doesn’t take long for the doubt to seep back in now I’m actually doing this.

Logically, he shouldn’t—this isn’t his first blowjob from a guy—but it doesn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this could be a one-time deal. That maybe he’s pretending I’m a girl like he said he used to do when he was with Matt.

The insecurity and vulnerability trying to distract me evaporate when I lift my gaze and his eyes are on me. He says something against my hand that sounds like “Damon” … or maybe it was “don’t.” Shit.

I pull off him again. “Please tell me this is okay.”

His eyes soften. He knows exactly why I’m asking that. When I pull my hand away from his mouth, he reaches for my cheek, and his thumb runs across the stubble there. With a warm smile, he gently says, “If you stop, I’m going to kick your ass.”

I can’t stop the laugh.

“I’m so close. Need you.”

No way am I stopping now.

When I take him back in my mouth again, I relax my jaw and breathe through my nose. His hips buck, sending him deeper to the back of my throat, and I moan around his cock. It’s enough to make him crazy. He mutters incoherently, but when the first spurts hit my tongue, I realize his babble was trying to warn me. I suck him down, taking every last drop until his body melts into the mattress.

“So good,” he murmurs.

I climb up his body until we’re face to face, me pinning him to the bed and our legs hanging off the end. “I’m sorry,” I say.

His hands go to my hips. “What for?”

“For being a dick. I do want you, Maddy. I’ve wanted you since the weekend I met you. But—”

“You’re scared shitless. If Eric hadn’t fucked you over, or even if I realized I was bi back in college, maybe you wouldn’t have this hang-up about me being new to all this. I don’t know what I can say to make you understand you’re the one I want. This isn’t about sex or experimenting, and I don’t care that you’re a guy. You’re the only person I’ve wanted to date since high school. Ask Stacy, that’s a big step for me.”

I lean in and kiss him softly. His mouth moves lazily against mine, and I have to force myself to pull away. “I want that too, but maybe we should take it slow.”

His lips curve up at the edges. “Should’ve thought of that before you sucked me off.”

My head falls to the crook of his shoulder. “You’re right, but I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been fantasizing about doing that for a month.” I pull up off him and stand.

Maddox sits up and reaches for my belt, bringing me back to him. His hand rubs the hard length in my jeans. “I need to return the favor,” he says, and I’m so tempted to let him, but I’m still hesitant. If there wasn’t a room full of people downstairs, I’d probably feel differently. There’s no clean escape route if this goes wrong.

“Maybe later. We should get back downstairs before they come looking for us.”

His eyes flick up to mine. “You’ll come home with me?”

Despite my reservations, there’s no way I can go back to denying I want him. “You won’t be able to keep me away now.”

Maddox grins. “Good.”