by S. M. West
My head snaps up to look at him. Fear flashes in his steely blue eyes and we both stiffen. “I mean, c’mon, rub my feet. That’s one way to have me at your mercy.” I’m animated, eyes bright and forcing the shine into my voice to hide the regret of my reckless slip of the tongue. “Yes, please.”
He shakes his head, an artful smile tiptoeing on his full lips as his features soften. We make it to the bedroom in silence where he draws a bath, adding lavender-scented bubbles, and I sink into the hot tub.
Kneeling, he dips his hands into the water, searching and finding one foot and then the other. Grabbing my ankles, he places both my feet on the edge of the tub and his strong, magical fingers massage away the ache. “Now tell me, how was the meeting?”
I moan, dipping a little farther into the tub. “I don’t know what I’m doing or what your grandmother was thinking in asking me to do this.”
“That bad, huh?”
“No.” I release a fatigued sigh, fluttering my eyes open.
He stares at me, heavy-lidded, roaming my calves, most of my body hidden by white foam, and then his heated gaze lands on the swell of my breasts before languidly moving up to my face. I smirk, pursing my lips, and close my eyes again.
“Everything was fine. Everyone was lovely. They approved the budget and the charity.”
“So what’s the problem?” He shifts, an elbow grazing my exposed knee.
“It feels like they’re being nice to me because they like me, not because I know what I’m doing.” Voicing my fears, especially to Zach, is both liberating and disturbing.
As if needling at my truth or vulnerability, his thumb digs deep into a particularly tender spot on the arch of my left foot and my eyes spring open on a whimper.
“Paige, liking you has nothing to do with it. Believe me, if they thought you were incompetent, it would be a feeding frenzy. They’d attack and leave you to die.” My spine straightens and a foot slips back into the tub. Unwaveringly serious, he says, “They’re a ruthless bunch.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I sit upright and fold my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “Because if so, you need to work on that. You’ve done the opposite.” Resting my chin on my knees, I stare up at him gloomily.
“Hey, how so? You said they approved your proposal. It doesn’t get better than that.” He pushes a damp, dangling lock behind my ear.
“I guess so. I just feel out of my depth. Anyway, are you still going to Singapore tomorrow?”
Zach told me of his travel plans only a day ago and the idea of him being so far away is hard to fathom. We haven’t been apart for more than twelve hours at a time for weeks now and while he works a lot and so do I, we’re close.
“My flight is at six a.m. I’ll be gone before you wake up.”
A shiver skates through me as the hollowness of his departure sinks in. He asked me to go with him, but I can’t. Between my job and the gala—it’s only three weeks away—there’s no way I can leave. But I wish I could.
“And how long will you be gone?”
“A week tops. Maybe less. It depends on how negotiations go. Why? You going to miss me?” He snags his lush lower lip between his teeth and quirks a dark brow.
I laugh, splashing him and shaking my head. “You wish.”
Firmly pinching my chin to hold me in place, he dips his face and brings our mouths together for a kiss. His lips linger on mine and he says, etching the words into my skin, “I’ll miss you.”
I almost can’t breathe. Soft words with no truth undo me. Truth or lie or wishful thinking, I have to remind myself of what we are. I won’t lie to myself any longer. But even knowing all that, I want him, and with a racing heart and aching sex, I step out of the tub drenched, and water pools at our feet as I undress him.
Zach’s hands grab and hold me. Kissing and licking at my wet flesh, he leads me into the dark bedroom, taking a seat facing me and inviting me into his lap. Straddling him, I claw at his broad shoulders as his crown rubs against my swollen lips and I suck in a breath when his solid length slides thick and wide into me. The look in his eyes is most affecting. Electric dominance.
“Zach.” My legs tremble, voice cracks, and my head tilts back, mouth wide open.
I hang onto his hard muscles, shifting and bunching, as he rocks into me. Raw, unrelenting, and fast. My body shudders and goosebumps pop along my flesh as my nipples scrape his chest.
Long and rigid, he thrusts deeper into me and I press my face into his now damp neck inhaling the scent and tasting the salt of him. Unbelievably masculine and ruggedly sexy.
There’s no way something that feels this incredible is a lie.
His hot mouth is everywhere, and he hoists me up, my ankles hooking around his back just above his firm ass as he walks us to the bed. He’s still inside of me keeping a fluid pace that’s making me crazy and tearing me apart.
My body pulses and my core clenches around his cock as my name roars from his lips both possessive and primal. Spilling into me, he holds my face between his large warm hands and gazes down at me.
Wild waves hang in his eyes. Chiseled cheekbones, dark scruff scattered along his strong jaw, and penetrating blue eyes fill my vision. The weight of him is deliriously perfect, filling me, surrounding me, causing me to scream in ecstasy and weep in shame. My second orgasm chases his, pleasure ripping through me. It’s almost too much to take.
We may be a lie but we’re the sweetest lie ever told.
I don’t want, nor do I need, to hear the truth.
Entangled and content, we slip into sleep easily and I only stir when he traces the curve of my eyelashes, his fingertip sliding softly over the crest of my cheek. Nestled under the covers, I feel the void of him at my back. My lashes flutter but I don’t open my eyes. Maybe if I don’t face him, it won’t be true. He’ll still be spooning me and his trip won’t be real. But why am I kidding myself?
Only fools indulge in make-believe, yet here I am, devouring every tale.
I feel his gaze on me like the sun and as a sunflower, basking in its glow, I soak up his devotion because I’ll only have it for a certain length of time before it’s gone.
Twenty-One
Paige
“How’s Zach? Is he back from Singapore?” Pippa applies her lipstick and I watch through the screen of my phone, from the comfort of my bed.
“He’s good but not home yet. Soon.” I stretch out my legs. “Where are you going?”
She’s in a little black dress with her hair curled. We try to talk as often as we can and sometimes it’s like this. On the fly and only for a few minutes because our lives are busy and full.
“I’m meeting Drew and his biggest client for drinks.” She groans and spritzes some perfume before turning back to her phone. “The guy wants Drew to be his legal counsel permanently. Drew isn’t interested but said he’d hear him out. So they had dinner to talk business and now the wives are joining. Do you miss him?”
“Miss who? Drew?” My brows bunch.
“No, silly. Zach.”
“Yup.” I’d be lying if I said I had no time to miss Zach. There truly was no time in my days between my day job and the gala. I barely had time to visit with my family or hang out with friends. But it had been four days since he left and every night, as I lay in bed in the moments between awake and asleep, Zach consumed my thoughts. We text and video chat when we can, but even still, I miss him.
“And?”
“And what?” I lie back on the pillow and yawn, so ready for bed even if it’s just after nine.
“Do you guys sext or get down and dirty over FT?”
“Not having this convo with you.”
“Why not? He’s so swoony.”
“You say that every time we talk about him. How does Drew feel about you thinking Zach is swoony? And who says swoony anyway? This isn’t some romance novel.”
“Shut up. Drew’s the swooniest—if that’s even a word—and I tell him so all the time. H
e has nothing to worry about. Not even a billionaire can top him.”
“Aww, babe, I love this even if I question your taste in men. I mean, my brother. Ewww.” I mock gag before smiling back at her and she laughs.
“I used to question your taste in men until Zach.” This is true. The billionaire is leagues apart from the men I usually date.
“So spill, you guys have been living together for a bit now. It must be getting serious.”
“Pfft. I wouldn’t say that.”
“P, c’mon.” Pip places her hands on her hips and purses her lips in a don’t give me that look of hers. “You lived with Terry and at one time you thought it was serious.”
“Please don’t remind me.” I was delusional to think Terry and I had a future. I had no clue what a healthy relationship was, until…the past several weeks flitter through my mind.
As if someone’s just hit me upside the head, I flinch and grimace. Why did Zach pop into my head? We aren’t in a relationship, neither healthy nor real.
What the hell?
It is ironic though. Our fake relationship feels the most healthy and real that I’ve ever had, and what does that say about me and my past relationships?
“What’s wrong?” Pip reacts to my tense features and I tamp down the urge to tell her. She’ll only respond with I told you so. She isn’t smug but she’s been telling me for years that I needed to find a decent man. Damn, she was right.
“Uh, speaking of Terry, he texted me a few days ago.”
“What? No.” Her face twists. “What did he want?”
“To see me.”
“Why?”
“He saw a pic of me with Zach online. Don’t ask how or why he saw whatever image of us because Terry and Zach don’t have anything in common.”
“Well, except you,” Pip interrupts and I pause, letting her words sink in.
“Anyway, apparently he misses me and wants to meet.”
“Please tell me you don’t believe him.” I roll my eyes because her question is absurd. She never liked Terry and even protested when we moved in together, refusing to go near our place if he was there. At the time, it was a sore spot between us because we never let anything get between us.
I want to laugh now, thinking of all the arguments we had over Terry. What a waste. He’s a nice enough guy but only into anything for a good time. He wouldn’t know what commitment was if it bit him on the ass.
“I don’t believe him.”
“Are you going to see him?” She narrows her gaze, moving in closer to the screen as if able to influence me.
Another call comes in at that moment—Zach flashes across the screen—and just seeing his name sends shivers of excitement skipping along my spine. I can’t help myself and smile.
“Pip, I have to go. Zach’s trying to reach me.” I’m surprised it’s him at this time. He usually calls around six in the evening my time, which is early in the morning where he is.
“Oh. We’re not done talking about Terry, but I’ll let you go speak to your man. Say hi. Love your face.” She blows a kiss.
My man?
“Love you, too. Talk soon.” I end the call and hit the answer button. “Hi, Zach.”
Striking blue eyes pin me to the bed. Back straight, shoulders squared, his expensive and expertly tailored cobalt suit drapes his shoulders like a second skin. He’s sinfully handsome.
“Hello.” The corners of his mouth twitch and tease the promise of what will be one highly attractive grin.
“I’m surprised you’re calling at this time. Aren’t you usually on your third meeting by this time of day?”
“My fourth.” His droll reply doesn’t hide the hint of exhaustion in his tone and it’s then I notice the shadows under his eyes. “There was no time to call this morning. Meetings with North America started at six thirty, but I’ve got ten minutes between calls and I wanted to see your face.”
Being halfway around the world hasn’t afforded him any kind of downtime or escape from his responsibilities on this side of the globe. He’s working double time with meetings during Singapore business hours and then calls with North America early in the mornings and during his evenings given the twelve-hour time difference.
“Ugh, that’s awful.” My lips twist and nose crinkles. “I don’t know how you do it.”
Silence. His gaze is warm and attentive. He stares and stares, long enough for my heartbeat to race wildly against my ribcage.
Suddenly, the covers are too heavy and hot. The bed too empty. My body squirms with agitated need. My breasts long to be touched and a rough pulsating heat gathers at the apex of my thighs.
What is he doing to me?
“Where are you?” His question shakes the horny free of me—well, not quite all, but enough that my desire starts to fade. He frowns, cocking his head to the side as if it will give him a better view of my surroundings through the almost six-inch phone screen.
“Our bed.” Realizing what I’ve said, I nearly swallow my tongue trying to take back the words already out of my mouth and my arousal dries up.
Fool. We’ve been doing such a great job at playing house that I’m forgetting we aren’t real. But if he’s bothered by my use of our, he seems unfazed.
“Is that my side of the bed?” His brows arch and the corners of his mouth twist while he tries, again, to see more of where I am.
I nod, smashing my lips together sheepishly while moving the phone to give him a better view of the room, or more specifically, the bed.
“Why are you there?” His lips purse thoughtfully.
“I want to keep my side cool. I like cold sheets to slide under and fall asleep.” I don’t add that I’m also on his pillow because it smells like him. I’ve already stuck my foot in my mouth once and I’m not looking for a repeat.
“Why are you on my side, Paige? Do you miss me?” He’s teasing with a hint of smug. He isn’t being cocky. He’s done that before and this isn’t it. He’s more satisfied and confident in his question, which comes out sounding more like a statement of fact.
“Umm, aren’t you full of yourself?”
“Answer the question, Paige.” My lips press together and for a few beats I do think about lying. It’s something we do, but I don’t want to lie.
He leans in toward the screen, his elbows on what looks to be a desk, and the glint of his cufflinks catches my eye. He really does look mighty fine. So well put together whether in a suit, jeans, or anything else. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him otherwise. Even with scruff peppering his jaw or fatigue dotting his features, he’s a sight to behold and I’m pretty sure I’d never tire of looking at him.
“I miss you,” he says solemnly, and I’d like to believe he’s telling me the truth.
I miss you.
I swallow back the same words, not sure why he said that. He doesn’t need to say things he doesn’t mean.
“You’ve got nothing for me?” His gaze darkens. “You miss me.”
“Perhaps.” My stomach does a funny flip.
“Well, I miss my hugger. Sleeping just isn’t the same,” he confesses.
I laugh as a warmth expands out from my heart and throughout my body. I dive headlong into the moment, unpacking my feelings for him. “Yeah, well, I miss the object of my hugs. Your pillow isn’t quite the same.”
“I’m happy to hear I’m not easily replaced.”
“Yeah and go figure, I never knew I liked bossy men in suits.”
“Mr. Rothwell, Mr. Wong is here,” says a woman somewhere out of my view.
“Thank you, Wynne. Give me two minutes,” Zach says with a stern expression. The thin line of his lips tugs at my heart in a distressing way.
He never told me what business brought him to Singapore, and now he looks as if he has a lot on his mind. I wonder if it has anything to do with our deal. Did he find a property he wants to purchase and can’t because he doesn’t have access to his trust fund? Or maybe he didn’t find anything appealing and that’s weighing on
him? Or perhaps our deal is taking longer than he anticipated? He still doesn’t have his trust and because of that, he’s unable to reap the benefits of our faux union.
Zach’s gaze flits back to me. “I’ve got to go.” He expels a breath while running a hand through his thick hair.
“I know.”
“Before I go, tell me about your day. Why are you in bed already?”
“I’m tired. I was up at five this morning, trying to catch up on my day job.” I pause, not liking my whiny tone, and try again. “I’ve been out almost every night this week doing things for the gala. And Tamara wants me to come by her office to sign some papers. We don’t have a trial date yet, but she’s trying to make it so I don’t have to testify in person.”
“I wish she hadn’t called you.” His face hardens, worry lines creasing his forehead. “She’s been keeping me up to date and I told her I’d get you to sign whatever was needed.”
“Zach, you can’t shield me from this.” He means well and he’s been amazing at holding up his part of our deal, but I need to know what’s going on. “I don’t want to be kept in the dark even if I never want to see or talk to Joel Hummel again.”
“Paige, I told you I’d take care of it and that’s what I intend to do. And as for the trial, I’ve told Tamara no fucking way you’re testifying with that psycho in the same room.”
“I don’t want to spend the last few minutes we have talking about this. Don’t worry about it.” I wave my hand in a carefree manner and force a smile. “I went to the hotel tonight and finalized the menu and room set up. Things are coming together nicely.”
“Are you enjoying it?” His voice is softer now, as are his eyes as he roams my face attentively.
“Yes, I am. I may be exhausted but I’m liking all of it and learning so much. I really can’t complain.”
I don’t bother telling him about the constant butting of heads with Reagan Hussey. She’s not only her grandmother’s proxy at foundation meetings, she also volunteered for the benefit planning committee. Lucky me. “And Morgan has been such a big help.”
“Good. If you weren’t liking it, I’d tell Nan to find someone else.”
