I Faked Sleep for My Stepbrother's Friends, but Nobody Was Fooled novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Drake's Turn

Drake, who has not touched her, finally puts his mouth on her; she comes harder than ever, and after the others leave he sits on the floor against her door and does not go.

Nobody moved.

I lay with my cheek on the pillow and my heart pounding and waited for someone to say I was awake.

Then Dean started to laugh.

It was a quiet, helpless laugh.

He pulled out of me slowly with a shudder, and I felt the wet heat of him slide down my thigh.

"She's dreaming about you, man," he said. "I swear to God."

"She's dreaming about the guy who yelled at her for leaving the milk out," Drake said.

His voice was perfectly flat.

"She said your name like a prayer."

"She said my name because she's known me for five years. She's talking in her sleep."

"Sure," Finley said, in a tone I couldn't read.

Somebody wiped me with something soft that smelled of the pool, gently, between my legs and along my thighs.

It was Gabe.

I knew because he whispered, "Sorry, sorry," under his breath the whole time.

"Your turn," Dean said.

"I'm not going to."

"Drake."

"Not tonight."

"You've been sitting there for an hour with your hands in your lap," Dean said.

"She's lying here wide open. Nobody's going to tell your dad."

Silence.

I kept my breathing slow, and it was the hardest thing I had ever done.

If he said no, I thought, I would open my eyes and say his name myself.

The mattress moved.

Someone settled between my knees where Dean had been, and it was not Dean, because his hands did not grab.

They rested on the insides of my thighs, warm and still, and waited.

I did not give him one.

I only breathed.

"Hold her legs," Drake said quietly, and then, to himself: "No. Leave them."

He bent down.

His breath touched me first, hot and uneven, and the whole length of my body went rigid with wanting it.

Then his mouth was on my pussy.

It was slow and soft and very sure, and I knew at once that he was not doing this for the audience.

He licked a single line up the middle of me.

When he reached my clit he stopped and held his tongue there, flat and warm, and let me feel it.

I made no noise.

It cost me everything.

He did it again.

He licked a long wet stroke from my entrance up to my clit, then a small tight circle, then another long stroke.

He took his time.

He did not look up.

I knew because his breath changed when my hips twitched.

He slowed his tongue to match the twitch, and it was so exactly what I needed that tears stung behind my closed eyelids.

"Jesus," Gabe whispered. "Look at his face."

"Don't look at his face," Finley said, almost gently. "Give him a minute."

Drake closed his lips around my clit and sucked.

Gently at first.

Then harder, in a steady rhythm, with the flat of his tongue pressing in time.

He slid two fingers inside me, curled them, and found the place Finley had found, and rubbed it in slow, firm strokes.

I couldn't hold it.

I didn't even try.

It came up from the soles of my feet and tore through me.

My back arched off the mattress, and I came against his mouth with a long, shaking, silent cry that I swallowed back.

He did not stop.

He worked me through it, gentler now, until the last spasm let go.

Then he rested his forehead against the inside of my thigh.

I felt him breathing there.

Nobody said a word.

Then his hand slid up my body, so lightly that it barely felt like touching.

He tugged my tank top back down over my ribs.

He drew the sheet up to my chin.

His mouth came close to my ear, and his voice was so low that only I could have heard it.

"Stay asleep," he whispered.

It could have meant anything.

It could have been a gentle thing to say to a girl who was dreaming.

"Out," Drake said aloud, and stood.

"That's it?" Dean said. "You didn't even..."

"Out. She gets up at seven. She'll want eggs."

They went, one at a time, whispering and shushing each other.

Gabe was last.

He stood at the side of my bed for a second and said very softly, "Night, Callie," and I nearly answered.

The door shut.

The lock turned again, from the inside.

I lay in the dark and listened for Drake's feet crossing the hall to his own room.

They never did.

I heard the soft scrape of a body sitting down on my floor, with its back against the door.

He was still there.

He stayed there all night.

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