Fake It ‘Til You Sleigh It

BONUS EPILOGUE

MADDIE

"ZACK, I’M CALLING IT QUITS ON THIS RUNNING SHIT," I whine, stopping my treadmill. "I'd rather die doing something I love, like having an orgasm."

I dramatically collapse onto the treadmill next to Zack, playing dead. He doesn't bat an eye at my antics and just keeps running like a boss.

"Mads, fitness is key to a good sex life," he says like he's some kind of sexpert (okay, he kind of is), but I don't want him getting all cocky about it.

"I'll just stick to my favorite form of exercise: laying on my back and letting you do the thrusting," I say with a smirk.

When your boyfriend's dick is a super-sized pleasure stick, who needs to hit the gym?

I give him a playful smack on the ass and hop off the treadmill, strutting over to the weights. We're the only people in the fancy fitness center of our swanky new high-rise apartment, living the high life on the 24th floor. Zack's all about it - with its sleek design and views of Chicago that make you feel like you're in a music video. Me? I'm just here for the elevator foreplay.

We shacked up a few months ago after our lease ended at the LoveScore compound. Now, we're living in a building right next to our new BFF2Bae offices, so we can stroll to work and race back home for midday booty calls. And let me tell you, those quickies happen on the regular!

I pick up a couple of weights and position myself in front of Zack, giving him a peek at my cleavage that could make a blind man see. Zack missteps but recovers and kicks up the speed like an unstoppable animal.

"You wanna play? I'll play," he says, ripping off his shirt, revealing his glistening chest and six-pack.

No way am I losing this game. I spin around, hike up my shorts until they're flossing my ass, and bend to touch my toes, adding a little moan for extra flavor. From my upside-down view, I see him almost faceplant on the treadmill, but he pulls himself together at the last second. Smooth move, babe.

"You're such a sure thing, Hanley," I taunt, unveiling a grin that screams naughty promises.

"Not a chance, Mads," he pants. "We gotta finish moving in and get our place tidy. Your sisters are coming over for dinner tonight, remember?"

“You signed up to be the hostess with the mostess, not me.” I pout, sprawling on the floor and spreading my legs in a butterfly stretch that nearly makes Zack swallow his tongue.

"We're drowning in boxes," he says, like I give two fucks about unpacking when we could be humping like bunnies. "Until we've finished unpacking and cleaning up for tonight, sex is off the table."

Challenge accepted, Hanley. "I'm all hot and sticky, so I'm gonna go rinse off," I say, standing up and stretching like a porn star. "If you're not too much of a pussy, you can come..."

Zack's off the treadmill in a split second. "I suppose we should both wash up," he says as if he’s in charge. "But no sex."

I stare him down like he's a mere mortal and I am a goddess. "Zack Hanley, pay attention: I won't be fucking you today until you're begging me to break your sex rule."

I give him a quick peck on the lips and strut off, putting a little extra swagger in my step.

The shower fills the bathroom with steam, and I grab my hair clip off the counter. It's painfully obvious which sink is Zack's and which is mine. His is like a museum exhibit, perfectly arranged, whereas mine looks like hurricane-struck makeup strewn about, hair bands everywhere, and a thawed eye mask. Hey, I don't have to waste time digging through drawers. It saves hours… probably.

"Damn, it's like a sauna in here. I can't wait for that water to cascade down all my sexy-ass curves." I say as I seductively peel off my sports bra.

Zack's eyes are glued to mine as I sensually slow-motion my way out of my biker shorts. I strut into the shower, butt naked and unashamed, and let him watch as the water pours down my body. I grab the soap and lather up my boobs, giving him a little show. I enjoy seeing his boner grow through the steamy glass.

Zack tears off his clothes in a flash and joins me in the shower. He slyly chuckles, “Madeline Denton, you are a bad influence.” He grabs me and pulls me close, our slippery bodies rubbing against each other. I feel his enormous hard-on throbbing against my stomach.

His kisses start hot and hungry, and I meet his lips with equal enthusiasm. He makes his way down to my chest, planting kisses along my breasts until he reaches my nipple. I let out a groan as he starts sucking on it like a vacuum cleanersucks, keeping it between his teeth.

His fingers trail down my body, applying pressure to my mound before sliding over my slit. He knows that when he rubs my clit, I'm putty in his hands. I gasp at the sensation.

“Open says me,” he whispers, and my body obeys. I shamelessly part my legs, revealing just how much I crave him.

"But Mr. Hanley, you said no sex," I tease, breathless and so fucking turned on I can barely think straight.

Zack gives me a smoldering look. "Exactly. I didn’t say we were off-limits to everything else. Wrap your legs around me.”

He picks me up like I'm weightless and presses me against the cold tile. He teases me with his cock, rubbing it against my outer folds, and we both moan at the tingling sensation. Zack moves me up and down, grinding on my clit, and I can already tell I’m gonna come hard and fast.

"Oh, god, Zack. More!" I cry, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes! Fuck.”

"Keep calling my name, baby," he growls, quickening his pace.

My moans echo off the tiles, mixing with the sound of the water and Zack's grunts of pleasure. I can sense my orgasm growing like a rubber band being stretched to its limit, ready to snap into delirium.

"Zack! Zack! Yes! Zack!"

I come like a volcano erupting, and Zack quickly follows, spraying his warm lava all over my belly. "Holy fuck, Mads,” he groans, still holding me tight as we both catch our breath.

I nibble on his earlobe like it's a delicious snack because I’m fully aware it enhances his pleasure.

“You're a fucking dream come true," he says, trying to catch his breath. “I love you, Mads.”

“I love you more than anything,” I say gently as he sets me down. I look up at him, my heart so full it could burst, and I see unconditional love reflected in his eyes.

Then, because he’s Zack’s, the responsible one, he takes a step back. "Okay, now we’re gonna get serious," he says as if we didn't just have a seriously steamy non-sex session. "Unpack. Clean. Ready for our dinner guests."

I give him a wink that's equal parts sassy and seductive, and he's powerless against stealing one last smooch before he goes for the shampoo.

I know he's all like, ‘I gotta stay focused and get shit done,’ but it's my goddamn day off, so I've got other plans. And spoiler alert: they only involve one thing… his love-wand.

***

UNPACKING CAN GO SUCK A DICK. "Let's just cram these boxes into a corner and call it a fucking day already," I say with exasperation. “We can knock this out in fifteen minutes if we work together," Zack says with his usual toxic positivity.

We're elbow-deep in boxes. Zack thought a ‘shared home office’ would be a brilliant use for the second bedroom. Honestly, we barely step foot in here. We're more into snuggling in bed with our laptops if we’re catching up on work at home.

I rip open a box marked "Memories" and spot a framed pic of me and Zack from college. If only I'd pulled my head out of my ass back then, we wouldn't have wasted so much time being just friends. Because hot damn, do I love being his girlfriend.

And it's not just the mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex. Zack is the best fucking partner a girl could ask for. He's patient, loving, and constantly pushing me to be my best. He talks me up in meetings and to my family like I'm some kind of goddamn superstar.

Since we became a thing, Zack and my dad have formed a total bromance. It's cute but dangerous because Zack now has a never-ending supply of dad jokes.

As if on cue, Zack uses scissors to dismantle a box and quips, "Cardboard: the final frontier!"

Maybe he's always been this dorky? Whatever. The bottom line is, his cheesy ass is all mine.

Zack unwraps his framed Star Trek: The Next Generation poster, and I put my foot down.

"Nuh-uh, no way."

“Captain’s orders, I’m mounting it over our bed,” he says sarcastically.

"More like beam it to the storage room. Or better yet, the incinerator in the basement!"

Zack retaliates by digging into one of my unmarked boxes and pulling out my trusty vibrator, The Pleasure Penguin. "Guess we should toss this too, then," he grins.

I snatch my battery-operated BFF out of his hands, accidentally turning it on. It buzzes in my palm like an angry bee.

"You can't get rid of him; he's family," I argue. "In fact, I think he deserves a place of honor in the bedroom. Maybe you two should get acquainted." I sidle up to Zack, the vibrator still going strong, and lean in to whisper in his ear. "Slide, glide, and enjoy the ride, baby."

I run the vibrator over the front of his basketball shorts, and he jumps like he's been electrocuted. He lets himself enjoy it for a hot second before swatting my hand away.

"Fine, the delightful creature can stay," he concedes.

"Then I guess the poster can, too," I say, stealing a kiss. “Let’s hang it up in here.”

I switch off the vibrator and take it to our bedroom for safekeeping. When I return, Zack's sitting in his office chair, already elbow-deep in another box, arranging things on his desk like a total Nora.

We thought it would be cute to set up our desks facing each other so we could flirt while we worked—big mistake. The moment our eyes meet, clothes start flying off. So long, productivity, hello, orgasms.

Zack pulls out Reid's old boob mug from his box. "Did you sneak this in here?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

“I did,” I say, setting it on my desk. "Gotta have a few little reminders of my coding bros."

"Didn't peg you for the sentimental type, Mads."

"Those were the hardest and best days of my life. I never want to forget what brought us together, even if it was a shit-ton of drama."

Zack tugs me down onto his lap and plants a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. I'll never tire of being in his arms, feeling cherished and adored. He rubs his nose against mine, a habit he started a few months back that turns me into a puddle of goo. It's our own little code for 'I love you.'

I plunge back in for a kiss that's hotter and dirtier than before, my fingers twisting in his hair. I’m craving the feel of his skin, so I yank his shirt up, and he willingly raises his arms, allowing me to remove it altogether.

I kiss a path down Zack's neck, my teeth scraping gently over his collarbone. My lips press against his pecs, and I can't resist flicking my tongue over his nipple. He arches his back, a deep groan escaping from his chest.

“Are you ready to beg me for sex?” I tease, moving to his other nipple.

"No way," he insists, remaining steadfast (and hard as a rock).

"Then I suppose we'll have to explore other options," I whisper, grazing my teeth over his nipple. He can't suppress a gasp.

Zack's head falls back as he surrenders to the sensation. "I appreciate this whole seduction thing you’ve got going on here, but let me give you a tip: I’m a sure thing."

"Quoting Pretty Woman, huh? I can take a hint," I grin.

I was already planning on sucking him off, but it's fucking adorable when he asks like a gentleman.

I sink to my knees and untie his athletic shorts and yank them down, freeing his stone-hard cock. It springs up, eager and ready, and my mouth waters at the sight.

"God, Mads, you're so dirty when you want to avoid responsibility." Zack's words make me laugh, but I won’t be distracted.

I maintain eye contact as I drag my tongue up his shaft, starting at the base and ending with a swirl around the head. Zack sucks in a sharp breath, holding perfectly still like he's afraid to do anything that might make me stop.

I wrap my fingers around him and squeeze. Zack's head falls back as he mutters under his breath. "Mother... freaking... hell..."

I start to pump him slowly, flicking my tongue over that secret spot just below the head that makes him lose his mind. He weaves his fingers through my hair, subtly directing me to where he wants, like a sexual GPS.

"Yes, Mads, fuck yes," he pants, arching into my mouth.

I increase my speed, my mouth sliding smoothly along his shaft as I listen to the sounds of his pleasure filling the room. His hips begin to thrust subtly, meeting me with each stroke, and I can tell he's getting close. But I'm not done with him yet.

By now, he's well aware that I enjoy sucking his dick just as much as he enjoys me doing it.

With my free hand, I reach down and cup his balls, gently massaging them as I keep up my relentless pace. Zack groans low and gravelly, fingers tangling tighter in my hair as he surrenders to the sensation. I can feel him growing harder, the telltale sign that he's almost there.

I let out a deep moan that rumbles against his length. Then I take him in completely, my lips meeting the base of his cock in that signature combo move that always seals the deal.

"Holy fuck!" Zack shouts, his body stiffening as he explodes in my mouth.

I swallow every drop, his cock pulsing against the back of my throat. Zack melts into the chair, limbs splayed out, pants still in a heap on the floor. He's utterly satisfied.

I plant a tender kiss on his cheek before departing to grab a warm, wet washcloth.

When I return, I delicately wipe him down, and he flashes me the goofiest, most adorable grin.

"Technically, this counts as cleaning," I point out.

"Cute attempt," Zack winks. "But the kitchen is still waiting for you."

Oh, we’ll see, Hanley… we’ll see.

***

ZACK IS FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

Our guests will be here in T-minus 60 minutes. Our place looks like we've been robbed–in reality –we just can't clean up after ourselves. And by we, I mean me. I’m a lazy slob who can't be bothered to pick up after myself.

I'm on dish duty while Zack plays "catch the dust bunny" with his fancy duster and vacuum in the living room.

I open the fridge door and… ugh! It's like a scene from a horror movie. We're not exactly Top Chef material, so our gross leftovers have birthed some questionable new life forms (with no medicinal value). I toss the grossest offenders and put on rubber gloves to deal with the dishes. Inspiration strikes like a bolt of kinky lightning.

I haul ass to our hallway closet, rummage through the boxes like a madwoman, and find the one labeled "costumes." I fish out the sexy maid outfit, shimmy into it, and throw my hair up in a messy bun. I add some mascara and cherry red lipstick to complete the look. The vacuum's still buzzing in the living room. I’ve got only seconds to make my move.

I see myself in the mirror. "Looking sexy-ish Mads.”

Then I throw in a little wink. "Scratch that, I'm fucking sexy as hell."

I'll take banging over scrubbing any day of the week. Let's get it on!

I strut into the living room feeling like I'm on a freaking catwalk in Milan and snatch the feather duster off the side table. When Zack kills the vacuum, I pounce. "Roleplay! You're a grumpy billionaire, and I'm the sexy French maid who's gonna dust your cares away. Ooh la la, baby!"

"Mads, seriously? We’ve got a ton of work to do before our guests arrive,” he says with both frustration and desire in his eyes.

I saunter up, exaggerating the swing of my hips. "Ah, but monsieur, ze cleaning, eet is what I do best! Let me demonstrate my... skills." I drag out the last word, giving it all the sexual innuendo I can muster.

Zack's eyes darken, but he's still clinging to his responsible adult hat. "Maddie, oh my God. Can we just focus on getting the apartment ready?"

I tap my chin thoughtfully like I'm considering his point. Then I snap my fingers. "I know! We can clean and play at ze same time, no? Eet will be, how you say, multitasking!" My French accent is slipping into Russian territory, but I commit to the bit.

He sighs. "Alright, fine. But we've gotta actually clean, okay?"

I salute him with my feather duster. "Oui, monsieur! Cleaning is what gets me going!" Then I begin flitting around the room, dusting the shelves and adding a little shimmy to make my chest jiggle. "Oh mon dieu, zis bookcase, eet is so dirty! It needs my special touch, no?"

Zack's jaw clenches as he watches me, his gaze zeroing in on my very short skirt. "You, uh, you missed a spot. Over there." He points to a perfectly clean patch of wall.

I flutter my lashes at him. "Merci, monsieur! I shall take care of eet right away!" I dust the wall like I'm polishing the Crown Jewels, arching my back more than necessary.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "And, um, there's some dust on the top shelf too. Can you get that for me, sweetcheeks?"

I beam at him. "But of course! Anyzing for you, monsieur." I go up on my tiptoes, swiveling my hips to make my skirt flutter but keeping my goods covered, denying him a peek.

I dust with a flourish, batting my eyelashes like a cartoon character.

"And there," he adds, playing along.

I give that spot some feather duster love too, pouting my lips playfully.

"Your red lipstick... it's, uh, it's really working for me," Zack says, his eyes glued to my mouth.

I spin around, and purr, "Zank you, monsieur. I wore eet just for you." I step closer, invading his personal space. "But oh no, eet looks like you have some dust on your shirt! Allow me to take care of zat."

I brush imaginary lint off his chest, letting my hands roam lower and lower. I let my hand drift down until I'm grazing the front of his pants. Right. Over. His. Hardening. Dick.

"Eet is very important to be thorough, no? We must make sure every inch of you is... satisfied." On the last word, I cup the prominent bulge in his pants, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Zack inhales sharply; he grabs my wrist and yanks me against him. "Maybe you need a thorough inspection, too. How do I know you're not hiding dirty secrets under that skirt?"

"You're ze boss," I say with a coy smile, ready to play this game all day.

He grabs the feather duster and tosses it across the room with the cutest fucking smirk on his face. Then he blows gently across my chest, his breath hitting me like a shock to the system. "I see some dust here," he murmurs before dragging his tongue along my neck. "And here," he continues, licking a hot stripe down my cleavage.

"Cleaning gets me very, very dirty," I gasp out, my legs weakening.

Zack's hands roam my body, deliberately bypassing my fun zones. He drops to his knees, pushing my skirt up inch by tortuous inch. "Tsk tsk tsk. This simply won't do. I'm afraid I will have to write you up for indecency."

I play along, feigning shock and indignation. "I didn't realize I'd forgotten my panties, monsieur," I say, my faux French accent slipping into something vaguely Transylvanian. "I'm ever so sorry. Vat vill you do to me?"

In an instant, Zack's face is buried between my thighs and holy shit; his tongue should be registered as a lethal weapon. He's licking and sucking and driving me up the wall with pleasure.

“Fuck, yes,” I moan, completely out of character.

“This costume drives me crazy,” he says as he groans against my pussy.

Goddamn, this boy makes me wetter than a tsunami. I am so freaking horny right now, it's insane. And the way he commands my body? Yeah, I'm all about that shit. Sign me up for more.

There's something incredibly hot about how we can control and surrender to each other. It's a dance of power and pleasure that never fails to leave us both breathless and satisfied. No lie, I'm fucking obsessed with it.

With a smooth motion, he inserts two fingers inside me, eliciting a gasp from my lips. His mouth remains persistent on my clit, flicking and sucking with expert precision.

It’s intense.

Overwhelming.

I'm on the verge of detonation.

He takes me right to the edge before pulling back, leaving me panting and ready to beg.

"Fuck it, you win. I need you right the hell now," he growls, his eyes blazing with lust.

I shoot him a triumphant grin and whip out the condom I'd stashed in my cleavage like a sexy magician. "Then take me, Mr. Billionaire. Hard and fast, s'il vous pla?t."

He hoists me over his shoulder like a caveman, giving my ass a firm smack. "You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He hauls ass to the couch, shucks his pants, and rolls the condom on in record time. With one powerful thrust, he's inside me, stretching me in the most delicious way.

I fist my hands in his hair and kiss him like the world's ending, nipping at his bottom lip as he pounds into me. "God, you feel incredible," he grunts, his rhythm never faltering.

"Harder," I moan in his ear, wrapping my legs around his waist to take him deeper.

Zack makes an almost inhuman noise, his control slipping. "I need you on top. Now."

He flips us over like we're a goddamn circus act, and suddenly I'm straddling him, my maid costume hanging off me in the most delightfully debauched way. He frees my tits from their lacy prison and latches onto one nipple, then the other, like a starving man at a buffet.

"Lean back for me, baby," he commands, and I obey, bracing my hands on his thighs as I ride him like a prized stallion.

He grips my hips hard enough to leave marks, guiding me up and down on his cock like he's conducting a filthy symphony. The pleasure builds and builds until I'm drunk on it, lost in a haze of sensation; he doubles his efforts, slamming into me with wild abandon.

Euphoria floods my veins as Zack expertly commands my body to new heights of pleasure. I'm powerless against him, and with a few skilled moves, he has me on the brink. My feminine core squeezes and clings, sending us soaring higher and higher. I explode with pleasure; fireworks going off in my body.

"ZAAAACK!" I scream his name loud enough to rattle the windows.

"Fuck, Mads," he chokes out, my climax triggering his own. He anchors me to him as he reaches his peak, his body shaking with the force of it.

We collapse into a sweaty, satisfied heap, our hearts galloping in tandem. "See? Way more fun than cleaning," I joke, my voice wrecked.

Zack starts to answer, but the doorbell cuts him off. Shit. We check each other out, and we look like wild sex beasts–hair out of place–lipstick everywhere—the living room smells like an outright orgy. We bust out laughing as Zack hikes up his pants and chucks the condom in the trash.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Let’s go greet our guests, honey," I say snarkily as we head for the door.

We open the door to my sister's chorus of hellos, then take in the absolute shitshow that is our appearance.

“Hey guys,” Zack says smoothly. “We were thinking we should go out to dinner instead. Our treat.”

Abby smirks. "Looks like you were the one having the treat, Zack.”

Ben high-fives Zack like the total bro he is.

“Can you believe he tried to get me to clean the apartment?” I ask, giving Zack's ass a playful smack. “Rookie mistake.”

"Oh, Zack," Sissy giggles. “Mads is allergic to cleaning.”

Nora chimes in. "If it can't be Febreezed and forgotten, it's a lost cause."

"Alrighty then! Let me just throw on some panties, and we can head out." I announce, sashaying back to the bedroom.

Zack wastes no time, sweeping me into his arms and rushing to the bedroom with purpose.

Sissy shouts, "Come on, you guys, no more sexy times. I’m hungry.”

With a sly grin, Zack suggests, "You know what would be hot? Washing the Tesla together next weekend."

I whisper into his ear, "That backseat is about to become our personal fuck den. I'mma make you scream my name so loud, the car's autopilot will get jealous."

That’s right, Zack Hanley - Your heart, your soul, your hotness, your goofball charm, and let's not forget, your dick is all mine. Like, forever. Deal with it.