Faking It Read online Riley Hart, Devon McCormack (Metropolis #1)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Metropolis Series by Riley Hart
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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“No,” I say as he nips at the back of my neck. “You know I gotta be at my parents’ in an hour.”

I finally managed to schedule some time to see them for lunch today. This is something I’ve avoided for far too long, especially since we’ve gotten so busy with the fundraiser. It’s been a great excuse to delay something I’m not all that excited about anyway.

Travis wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “You have to go. I know.” But the way he kisses behind my ear, it’s like he doesn’t.

I pull away from his grip and spin around, the running water hitting my back. I scan over his body, taking in those muscles that have blown up even more since we’ve started hitting the gym hard for next weekend.

“Fuck you and this body,” I say.

He smiles. “What?”

“You do a bicep curl and your muscles swell up like you have an allergy to working out.”

He laughs. “I put on muscle pretty easily. And don’t act like I’m the only one getting all fit here. All those bench presses certainly haven’t hurt you.”

He grabs my pecs and squeezes.

“They have hurt me, remember?” I set my hand on my right shoulder. Although I acknowledge, as he has a grip on my muscles, that it hasn’t taken them long to firm up. Still, unlike him, I don’t have the body of a fucking god. Not that I’m complaining. Because if I can’t have it, at least I still get to fuck it.

“Just hurry on back for dinner with Steven and Raymond. We need to make sure we have everything in place for next weekend, and then we can reward ourselves with a little treat.”

“A treat?” I ask.

He moves forward, his body pressing against mine as he grabs my ass cheeks firmly in his hands.

“This ass has needs, Gary.”

“Oh, you think I’m just going to be your permanent bottom?”

“You can do whatever you want to me as long as you promise not to cut me off from that sweet ass. Although I don’t feel like you’ll be cutting me off anytime soon.”

I push him away. “I hate a man who knows how good he is in bed.”

“I get that,” he says. “It’s hotter when they don’t realize it.”

I can tell by the look he makes he’s referring to me, and I can’t stifle my grin. The feeling his compliment fills me with is concerning.

It’s just sex.

I’ve had to repeat that to myself far too often. It’s become more difficult to separate the fake relationship from whatever the fuck we’re doing now. It was easy to not worry about liking him when I didn’t know him. When I didn’t know he likes to eat waffles for breakfast and he likes listening to nineties grunge music. That despite it being older, his favorite show is Friends, but he tells everyone it’s Goldrush. He’s not just some conceited guy I’m pretending to be in a relationship with anymore. We’ve spent so much time together. Hitting the gym in the afternoon to share gossip. Heading to bars at night, me moaning about all the messes Eric makes at work and Travis telling stories about some of his clients. He’s more than a fuck buddy now. He’s a friend.

His gaze shifts quickly, as if he’s suddenly uncomfortable. As if he’s on to what I’m thinking about.

He opens the glass door to his shower, grabs one of the two towels hanging off a rack on the wall, and dries off before heading into the bedroom to change.

What have I gotten myself into?

I know what’s happening here. We aren’t coded the same way. I’m programmed to think of things in terms of a relationship. He’s coded to just want to fuck. For all I know, when I’m not around, he’s off fucking other guys all over town. Although we haven’t had much time apart and he told me he wasn’t. I don’t imagine he has a reason to lie, but there’s that part of me that’s insecure because of Peter.

I finish up my shower, dry off and throw on some fresh clothes that I brought in my laptop case, which I also packed my toothbrush and deodorant in. Not even in case I stayed over. Because I knew I would.

I finish dressing before him in his bedroom. He lies on his stomach, his laptop at the foot of the bed as he types. He glances at me occasionally, but neither of us speaks. Something weird happened in the shower there. Could he tell what I was thinking about? That’s stupid. Why am I making such a big fucking deal out of this?

It’s just sex.

There it is again!

“Guess I’ll see you tonight,” I say.

“Cool,” he replies.

I grab my laptop case, leave, and walk down the hall. As I’m about to head into the nook where the elevators are, I hear the door open. I turn and see Travis heading toward me, just the towel around his waist. I wait, curious as fuck.


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