Facade

Ashley Suzanne
Facade, Book 3, The Destined Series
© 2014, Ashley Suzanne
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

I’m very humbled at the response my work has received.  I know that without God’s blessings, I wouldn’t be where I am today.  I also know that so many amazing authors have been my rocks during this journey.  The writing community can be very tight knit at times, and without this bond I share with these fantastic authors, I would have nobody to talk to and help me through troubling times. 

So, if you’ve been by my side, helped me through professional and personal issues, talked me off a ledge, pushed me to do better, inspired me to write yet another story, or been an ear to talk to when I was lonely.

Thank you, and this story is for YOU.

“Truth is, everyone’s going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.” – Bob Marley

CHAPTER ONE

Kylee

“What if I don’t want this to be casual anymore?  What if I want more?”

Mother fucking hell.

What am I supposed to say to that? 
Yes, I want more and I’m going to open myself up so you can shatter everything I thought I knew?
  That’s not going to happen. 
Ever.

Jacoby’s silently waiting for an
answer—every part of him but his voice demanding one.  I can’t blame him, really I can’t, but it’s not possible for me to give him what he’s looking for.  Instead of trying to talk my way out of an argument, I go to the next best plan.

Sauntering over toward the bed, I pull my shirt over my head, letting it dangle from my index finger before dropping it to the floor.  With one hand, I reach behind my back and unhook the clasp holding my bra in place.  With my eyes firmly
locked on his, I slowly pull my left arm through the strap, and then my right, still holding the actual cups over my breasts. 

“What are you doing, Kylee?” Jacoby chokes out, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed.  If I didn’t know any better, I would swear there’s a small amount of drool trailing from the corner of his mouth.  His gaze burns through me, his eyes no longer demanding answers but
reflecting something a little more erotic in mind. 

This little trick works for me each and every damn time.  Men are so predictable.  Dangle a little bit of sex in front of them and they turn into incoherent cavemen.

“What do you mean?” I ask, feigning innocence.  Once I’m standing directly between his legs, I have trouble focusing on my plan, distracted by the effect I’m having on him.  The white sheet that is draped across his lap has risen deliciously over his erection, just waiting for me to reach out and touch it. 
Dangle the bait, Kylee.

I slowly move my arms, letting the pink lacy material fall into his lap.  He picks it up and tosses it to the floor on top of my shirt, never breaking his glare
from my now bare tits that are only inches from his face.  As he moves forward to capture one in his mouth, I turn around and casually sit in his lap, cutting him off from the front half of my body.  Slowly grinding my ass onto his cock, I lean back with my back to his chest. Resting my head on his shoulder, I continue gently gyrating.

“I think
this
is what we’re good at, Jacoby. 
This
, I can give you more of.  A lot more,” I whisper.  Jacoby’s hands come around my waist to cup my tits, nuzzling his face into my neck and nipping at my sensitive flesh.  I stand up, pushing my pants over my hips and down to the floor, exposing my entire body for his eyes to feast upon. 

“You think you’re so smart, don’t ya, Red?  I’ve got your number.  You might have me at a loss right now
, but don’t for one second think that I don’t see right through you.”  Before I know it, Jacoby pulls me back to him, pushes me down on the bed and rests his body weight on mine, directly between my thighs—exactly where I need him most.

Well played, sir. 
Finally, someone who knows this dirty little game like I do. 

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  The innocent act I’m going for is becoming less and less
convincing with the want rolling off my body.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Jacoby says, sarcastically.  “I’ll play along
, though.”

With a harder bite to my nipple, I squirm under his touch.  I always do.  Something about the way he takes control and commands my attention leaves me breathless and craving more.  One bite, one kiss, one orgasm; it’s never enough.

While expertly rolling my nipple with one hand, the other sneaks down my stomach, leaving a wake of fire in its path until he reaches my core.  Rubbing my clit with his thumb, Jacoby inserts one finger inside of me, making me ache even more.

“Jacoby, please,” I mutter, wanting more than just a single
digit—I want
him
.

“It’s not so funny when it’s flipped back on you, now is it?”

“This isn’t fair.”

“Oh, but shoving your tits in my face when I’m trying to have a serious conversation is?  And mighty fine tits they are.”  He pinches down on my nipple, pulling it until I moan with the sensual mix of pleasure and pain.

“That’s not what I was…” I completely lose my train of thought when Jacoby sticks a second finger into me, pressing harder on my clit, trying to manipulate an orgasm out of me.

“A little lost for words, are
ya, Red?”  I’ll probably never use my body against Jacoby again.  The man is too good.  He knows this game and I’ve just lost. 
Or maybe I will, this game is…Fuck yes.

Rocking my hips into his hand, finding a perfect rhythm, I’m almost
there—the orgasm starting to roll through me, begging for release.  The sly grin on his face tells me he already knows what’s about to happen, and he pulls his hand completely away from my body, leaving me frustrated beyond words.

“What the fuck, Jacoby?  I was right
there
,” I pant, slamming my arms down on the bed.  Yes, yes I do act like a petulant child when I don’t get my way.  I wanted that orgasm and he just stole it from me.

“Let’s talk about what I said.”  Jacoby leans back, sitting on his heels, his erection proudly on display, begging for me to taste it.  “I might just finish what I started if we do.”  Jacoby puts his index finger in his mouth, savoring my arousal.

“Jacoby, it’s a lost conversation.  We’ve been over this before.  There
isn’t
more I can give.  You can take what you get or I can leave.”

“And why is that?  It seemed like a few months ago, you were ready to try.  Now, I can’t even get you to entertain the idea.
  We all have a past, are you going to let it hold you back?”

So
here’s
the clusterfuck.  He’s right.  The one time I ever, in my entire life, wanted to try to have a
real
relationship, I was slapped in the face with the stone cold reality of why that can’t ever work.  I was about to fuck an up-and-coming rock star and all I could think about was Jacoby.  I wanted to give it a try.  I called him and was brushed off.  I decided to surprise him, so I went to his house after leaving the concert.  Instead of finding him elbow-deep in contracts, I ran straight into a Barbie-doll-type blonde who basically staked her claim. 

We’ve been fucking for months.  I know what I am and I’m not ashamed.  I’m a bit of a slut, but in a good way.  I don’t fuck around with random guys
, and I at
least
have the decency to only fuck one guy at a time.  I thought that was something Jacoby understood about our arrangement.  Granted, we weren’t a couple or anything, but I was solely his, and I thought the same about him.  I was fucking wrong.  Dead. Ass. Wrong. 

We never talked about that night, but I get the feeling that he knows what I wanted
since I called him so urgently in the middle of the night and all.  Unless Princess Peroxide told him I stopped by, he doesn’t know—at least he never told me he does.  Now I have to answer this question in order to get my orgasm?  No, dude.  That’s not how I play this.  A battery operated boyfriend is never as good as the real deal, but it gets the job done.  One way or another I’m gonna get mine.  He’s going to have to decide if he wants me screaming
his
name or BOB; either way, I don’t care.

“What exactly are you asking of me? 
Please
spell this shit out.”  My patience is wearing thin and the pent up frustration is killing me.

“I’m tired of this arrangement.  I’m not getting any younger, Ky.  We’ve been playing this game for almost six months.  I really like you. I’m not asking you to marry me
, but I want more than what we have.  I’m not trying to pressure you into something you’re not into, but fuck, Ky, let me take you on a proper date.  Just
try
for me.”

“Just a date?”

“Yes, just a date,” he says, exasperated, “let me take you to dinner and a movie.  Regular people stuff.  Let’s see how it goes.”

“Are we going to fuck before, during or after this
date
?”  Let’s be real for a second, this is a deal breaker for me; fucking is the
only
way he’s getting me to agree.

“I’d like to say
no—just a regular date—but knowing us, that isn’t gonna happen.” 
Good answer. I’m sold.

“Fine, I’ll let you take me on a date.  Now, can you finish?”  I barely finish my sentence before Jacoby buries his face between my thighs.

Every single stroke of his tongue brings me closer to the edge.  When he nips at my clit, lightly sucking it through his teeth and inserting two fingers into my opening, I feel the lost orgasm creeping back to the surface.  I grind myself into his face—demanding more—not wanting to get denied again.  I push my hand into his almost black hair, holding him in place as his fingers and tongue work their magic.  Within minutes I’m screaming out
his
name in ecstasy, riding out the waves of an extremely intense orgasm. 
He might have something here, delayed gratification and all.

Jacoby uses the sheet to wipe my arousal from his face before he reaches to the nightstand, pulling out a condom.  Ripping the package with his teeth, he rolls the latex down his impressive cock.  Yes, I did say
impressive
because that thing is a work of art; the perfect size and thickness.  Enough to satisfy my needs, and then some.

“Spend Christmas Eve with me.”

“We just talked about this.  I’m spending the night before with my friends then I’m going home.  I’ll be back the day after Christmas.”

“I want our first date to be on Christmas Eve.”  Jacoby has the tip of his dick resting against my opening and I try to push onto him, but he refuses. 
What kind of man uses sex to get what he wants?
  Never mind, don’t answer that question.  All men do it. 
Fuck, I just tried to do it.

“Okay, fine.  But I’m not spending the night.  I wanna be home on Christmas morning.”

“Works for me, Red.”  Jacoby slams into me, making me forget anything and everything we’ve talked about all morning.  The bite of him nicking my cervix, mixing with the pleasure of being filled, is nothing short of euphoria. 

Fully seated, Jacoby stills for a few moments before he starts his assault.  Sex with Jacoby is always amazing.  He knows exactly when to be soft and gentle or rough and quick.  He’s also the only person I’ve been with that has gotten me off each and every time we have sex, let alone the only one to give me multiple orgasms. 

As he glides in and out of me, groaning with every stroke, I can almost imagine doing this for the rest of my life. 
Knock it off, Ky.  You’re giving him a date to shut him up and get you off.  Nothing more, nothing less.

The all too familiar feeling of an impending orgasm starts low in my belly.  I raise my hips to meet his thrust, feeling my legs start to quiver beneath him.  Jacoby knows what works best with my body.  The damn man knows it better than
I
do.  He pinches and pulls my nipple until it’s fully erect and then sucks it hard.  Pressing his hand between our bodies onto my clit, I explode into a million pieces.  Clenching around him—milking his cock—it’s not long until he’s coming, grunting my name. 

Both of us
are falling back on to the bed, breathing heavily, when I start to second guess this whole date thing.  I keep my walls up high to
protect
myself.  I’m not strong like Mira.  I can’t just let a guy,
or two
, into my heart to only have it broken. 

“Stop over thinking this,
Ky.  It’s just dinner.  Let’s take a shower and I’ll take you over to Mira’s.”

How the fuck does he
do that?

“Okay, a shower sounds good.  I’ll meet you in there.”

Jacoby places a tender kiss on top of my head before walking into the bathroom.  Once the door clicks shut, the over thinking starts again.  So many questions run through my head, it’s hard to separate what I
think
is going to happen versus what I
know
will eventually happen.  I should probably discuss the Blonde Bombshell with him, but that would be lowering my wall too much, showing that I’m more than capable of giving him the
more
he wants. 

I’ll think about it another day,
but right now I have a date with a shower.  Who am I kidding?  I have a date with a shower and a smoking hot, honey-eyed man.