Pretend You’re Mine

by Black, Natasha L.

  “There’s another part?”

  He linked his arm through mine and led me towards the elevator. “You’ll see.”

  The elevator was empty. Xander pressed an unmarked button.

  “Xander,” I said. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Oh,” he said nonchalantly. “Just a private balcony where I’m going to ravish you.”

  “Seriously,” I said, watching as the lit-up numbers flickered past.

  “Seriously,” he said.

  The elevator doors opened and I saw that ‘seriously’ definitely didn’t cover it.

  No with how the balcony’s floor was thick with rose petals and a quick look around found that it was high up with no nearby windows in sight – as private as could be.

  “And now, I’m going to fuck you,” Xander hissed in my ear, his arm hooked around my waist.

  Next second, his tongue was parting my lips. His hands worked over my dress, as though his touch was creating it. Each curve he squeezed all the way down until his lips were massaging mine, his hands my ass.

  “Xander,” I murmured, enjoying the taste of his name on my lips.

  “What is it, girlfriend?” he asked, pulling back and taking my lip partway with him.

  “So now I’ve been demoted?” I joked.

  The way Xander was looking at me was as good as a stroke. His pressed a couple fingers to my lips. “Stop.”

  They pressed into my lips. “You know how crazy I am about you.”

  And then he took my face and brought it to his. Now, there was nothing savoring about the way his hands were gliding over me – this was pure want, speed. His caressing of my thighs had me buckling into him.

  Xander steadied me with just a hand. Then, a devilish smile. “Here, let me help you with that.”

  He laid me on the petal-covered ground, the petals themselves a soft smoothness. And then, his fingers twined under my dress, pressing into my pussy.

  As I groaned, another smile flickered over his face.

  “You are wearing entirely too many clothes,” he growled, pulling off my dress.

  I could only blink at him, stunned, as he kneeled beside me, his eyes feasting on my fresh nakedness. Straining up, my lips caught his and that was it. Lip twisted on lip as his body settled on top of me. Together, we unzipped his pants, pulled down his briefs. And then… there he was.

  The long hardness that had pleasured me more than anything in this world time and time again.

  As he entered me, pleasure sang through all of me.

  I moaned, and Xander smiled down at me. “That’s more like it.”

  As he repeated the motion, going in deeper, another grateful spasm went through me. This was going to be a fuck to remember, I could tell already.

  Xander varied his thrusts, each one aimed to bring maximum pleasure. Slow and savoring, fast and merciless, every time my body grew accustomed to what he was doing, he switched it up, sending me into delicious ecstasy once more. On and on he fucked me. I came once, twice, again.

  We kissed and moved from one position to the next, from missionary to doggy to cowgirl back to missionary again.

  Until Xander was on top of me, and I could see it in his face, see what he wanted to say, had been wanting to say for some time.

  As he stabbed into me the hardest and deepest yet, and our entire bodies clasped onto each other’s desperately, my gaze bore into his, and I said, “Say it.”

  A muscle in Xander’s jaw flexed. I clasped at his cock with my pussy. “Say it.”

  He tried to twist his giveaway face away, but I wrenched it back, so it was facing me. “Say it.”

  And finally, face red, eyes adoring slits, Xander burst out, “I love you.”

  We stared at each other then for what felt like an eternity, our bodies still clasping each other.

  I broke the silence. “I love you too.”

  Like a button had been pressed, Xander jerked to life. His cock was a wonder, slamming into me, sweeping me into pleasured shivers. My legs were out of my control, knocking into each other.

  And, finally, as Xander lost control and his cock pulsed in me and he came, he raised his head to the Heavens and yelled, “I love you, Naomi Peterson!”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later - Naomi

  Why wouldn’t he tell me what was up?

  Today was our wedding day for God’s sake, and Xander was keeping something from me. I could see it in the way his smile didn’t quite make it to his eyes. But he wouldn’t tell me. Maybe it had something to do with Christmas, which was in a few days.

  “Just enjoy our wedding, woman,” he said now, at the door about to leave.

  “I’m trying,” I said, getting up and putting on a bath robe. “Maybe if you left and let me get changed so I’m ready on time, then I may actually have a chance of enjoying it.”

  “See ya,” Xander leaned in for a kiss and then he was gone.

  I’d hardly gotten downstairs and sipped my coffee when Teren, my mom, Melanie, Jessica, and a whole troupe of others were ringing the doorbell.

  “Naomi!” Teren scolded as soon as I opened the door. “We only have an hour to get you gorgeous!”

  Behind him were a bustling array of hairdressers and makeup artists who he’d taken it upon himself to hire last week.

  “You don’t think an hour is enough time?” I said.

  Teren patted my cheek sweetly. “Dear sister. Of course it’s not enough time.”

  Nevertheless, my brigade of pretty makers still made a go of it of it. All at once, my hair was teased and pulled and snagged, while my face was attacked by an army of brushes. I could barely speak without someone grumbling in disgruntlement.

  “Do I want to know what you instructed them to do?” I said to the wall I was facing.

  “Oh, you look beautiful honey,” Mom said.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Although her words didn’t exactly give me the warm fuzzies. For my prom, I’d been so late that I’d run to it without looking at what Teren had unleashed on my face. He’d apparently gone for smoky eyes that looked good on the almond-eyed girl in the YouTube video, but made me look like I was a victim of domestic violence.

  “That’s it,” I finally said. “I want to see what I look like. If I’m not done now than I’ll never be.”

  A look in the mirror, however, found that my fears were unfounded. I looked amazing.

  If only I could stop thinking about that pesky matter Xander was keeping from me. Damn him. Didn’t he know that the wedding day was stressful enough?

  In any case, I didn’t have time to dwell on it, thankfully. Not with the way Teren and the others were hustling me up and out the door.

  “We have five minutes,” he said as if a bomb would go off then.

  Once we got to the church, then came the waiting game. Funny, how five minutes could feel like five hours when you were stressed enough.

  Don’t screw up, a tiny voice in my head reminded me. What could Xander be keeping from us?

  The other voice wondered.

  “It’s time to go,” Teren finally said..

  As stressful as walking down the aisle was going to be, I was grateful to be delivered from my stressed-out thoughts.

  The organ hummed out the typical “do-do-do-do”. I took one step into the aisle, and then another. What I’d expected to be thinking of, was how everyone was staring, how many people Xander had in his family, how itchy the back of my gown was. But what I was actually thinking of was right now. How unreal this all was. Being married to a man I was genuinely crazy about.

  When I reached Xander at the front of the church, one look at him, and all tension in me rested. Whatever happened, it was going to be ok. As long as I had Xander by my side, I could face anything.

  The rest of the ceremony was as enjoyable as a stressful event like it could be. Family members made speeches, people chuckled, the priest did his thing. And everything went along on an easy autopilot, until it was the time to say
our vows. When Xander got out a little card, despite what we’d specifically promised each other, I knew I was in for it.

  “I know we said we weren’t going to write our vows,” Xander said. “So, after this you can smack me.”

  The crowd whooped and applauded good-naturedly.

  “To say that our how-we-meet was no fairytale is putting it lightly,” he said, as my stomach rolled. “I think that makes it even better.” Xander was smiling to himself, not able to look at me, not yet. His voice lowered, so that only I could hear. “And I didn’t really know what to say to this, still don’t. I don’t know how to tell you that I didn’t know there were women like you, women who brought out the best in me, challenge me. Women who are nothing short of spectacular.” Now his eyes finally met me mine. “I love you Naomi. And I’m so damn proud to be your husband.”

  The vaulted ceiling of the church rang with the applause of the crowd, as if it was some kind of bell.

  Now it was my turn to read the vows that were the standard ones. Unless….

  I opened my mouth. Was I doing this? Yes, I was going off script.

  “Not sure I’ll be able to follow that act, but I want to try.” I was talking quietly too. I could hear everyone shifting in their seats, trying to hear, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t for them. This was for my husband. “To make you get just how much you mean to me. How much this does. Even if you challenge me as much as you support me. But here’s the thing: I like that. Because it’s real. Because we earned this partnership. And that’s what it is.” I smiled at him, using all my self-control not to kiss him, not yet. “And for that, I can’t just say thank you. I don’t know what I can say except that I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible and I promise you that I always will.”

  And at some point, the priest must’ve said “you may now kiss the bride”, because Xander’s lips were touching mine, and the crowd was erupting, and it was official. Even though it had been before, now it was official to me - we were married.

  The ceremony unrolled one joy after the next. The gifts ranged from the considerate – matching couples’ bathrobes from the Things Remembered , to the hilarious – Reginald (my fair parents had made me invite him) gave us both matching fanny packs. But we all dance, we all laughed, and ate until we were stuffed.

  And, before the night was through, Xander was pulling me aside once more, to the back.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, “Everyone is fine with it.”

  “With what?”

  “Me giving you my gift now.”

  “Xander,” I said, exasperated. “What happened to our wedding being the gift?”

  Clearly, he’d taken to heart all of none of what we’d discussed about taking it easy via vows and gifts.

  “There was Christmas to consider too,” he said, handing me a small box.

  Inside, there was a pamphlet. I turned it over in my hands, my gaze scanning the beautiful cabin I recognized immediately. “That’s not the one…”

  “After our last trip to Germany was such a success, I couldn’t resist,” Xander said. He kissed me on the tip of my nose. “I bought you a German chalet!”

  Now I looked at the pamphlet more closely. Xander hadn’t just bought me a German chalet, he’d bought me the German chalet – the one from my dream board.

  I could only look at it.

  Xander leaned in, his lips grazing my ear, “There’s a helicopter just outside.”

  I thought he was kidding me until we rounded the corner and I saw the whirring bird. I stood there, unable to move a step further. This was too much. Xander was too much.

  I looked into his eyes.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “Just, I’ve had my fair share of nice dreams, but this one takes the cake.”

  “Speaking of cake, I’ve got some of that chocolate pudding cake waiting on the jet,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  I couldn’t help but laugh and throw my arms around his neck. “I still can’t believe this is my life,” I said, looking into my husband’s eyes.

  “Well believe it Mrs. Peterson,” he replied, kissing me softly on the lips.

  We stepped into the helicopter and were whisked away to our happily ever after.

  The End

  Double Trouble (Sample)

  1

  Hyacinth

  I knew what to expect, or so I thought.

  Just another busy let’s-get-this-over-with Monday night. I’d tend to the usual Monday night ER patients, guzzle bad coffee like a superstar; chat with Penelope, do damage control when she said one of her ‘quo-tables’ too loud. I’d think wistfully of the sleep I’d get in a few hours, while tempering the longing with the firm resolve that I was working my dream job.

  And it went just like that, this typical Monday night. Until, that is, they came in.

  I was on such autopilot mode of efficient work and kind cheer, that the sight of them – same chin-length beach boy hair, same guarded eyes the brown of leather belts - only pierced my consciousness after several seconds.

  “Patched him up best we could at the club, but my brother’ll need stitches- ASAP,” the one was saying as he supported the other.

  The other one had a bad gash on his forehead, and more stubble, but that was where the differences ended.

  “Ignore him,” the twin with the cut said with a wink. “My brother takes worrying to an art form.”

  Beside me, Penelope’s eyes widened, while my own mind pinged with understanding. Yes, these two men had the same hair, same face, were the same two prototypes of hotness – twins.

  “Mr. Owen and Jake Powers,” I said, taking refuge behind the chart so I could get a hold of myself. All of me was flushing, from my cheeks all the way to between my legs.

  “Perfect last name for a boxer, am I right?” Jake said with a wince.

  “Less talking and more sitting still so the nurse can do her job,” Owen growled.

  “You mean” – Jake checked my nametag – “Hyacinth.”

  “My friends call me Cin,” I said automatically, frowning. Where the heck had that come from?

  Focus, Cin, I told myself.

  “Sorry Cin,” Owen said, slinging himself into a chair at the hospital bedside. “Don’t mean to be rude. Just worried about my little brother.”

  “Little by two minutes,” Jake said sorely.

  “Jake Powers,” Penelope said, stepping beside me. Her Bambi eyes were locked on him in a way that I knew from experience wasn’t good. “I’ve heard of you.”

  Jake cracked a smile, although his gaze didn’t move from me. “Does that mean I can get some VIP treatment here and snag a little whiskey or something for the pain?”

  “No,” I said smoothly at the same time that Owen sharply said, “Jake!”

  He smiled gratefully at me. “Just ignore him if he gets to be too much.”

  “Same goes for my brother,” Jake said, flipping Owen a sweet ‘fuck-you’ smile. “He tends to forget himself in front of pretty girls.”

  “Normally I’d say slap him if he crosses the line,” Owen said darkly. “But in the circumstances….”

  Smiling weakly, I turned to my kit. Focus Cin. So what if some hot boxer twins were flirting with me? I had a job to do.

  The cool metal of the tool shelf sharpened me somewhat as I rifled through the bin for what I was looking for. Producing the sutures, needle driver, tissue forceps and sterilized needle and thread, I gave the twins an all-business smile. “Thanks, but I should be fine. A needle in his forehead should do the trick.” My smirk wavered. Keep it professional, Cin. “Now, don’t move.”

  I poised my needle over his forehead skin, preparing for contact.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jake said cockily. “I should be goo-”

  The stabbing in of the needle shut him right up. Beside me, Penelope had flit away and was hovering at a distance. Even after two years as a full-time nurse, she still could hardly stomach the whole graphic bit. Although if I needed
her she’d be there in an instant.

  It was only a minute or so of the work, basically skin sewing, and then I was finished, and Jake started breathing again.

  “Thanks,” he said weakly, all of his former bravado gone.

  He drew in a deep breath that fell out of him. “You come in here thinking you’re all tough and then,” – a sheepish smile – “You get your ass handed to you by a pretty girl with a needle.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I’ve had some people bawl like babies, so you’re no wuss,” I said.

  “Thanks,” Jake said. “But this is going to be ammo for my brother for weeks.”

  A glance to Owen found him smiling, shrugging. “Serves you right, when you were so set on being a tough guy that you weren’t even going to come here in the first place.”

  “If I’d known…” Jake trailed off.

  His gaze stroked down my body. I twisted away, busying myself with putting away my supplies in the proper bins.

  “Anyway,” Jake was saying. “Guess it’s just my luck you know your stuff.”

  I nodded. “Guess so. Now try to keep those clean and dry and go see your doctor in about seven days to have them taken out. You can take regular ibuprofen for any discomfort. If there’s nothing else you need, I should get back to work.” I was normally a little friendlier, but something about these two gorgeous men and the way they were both looking at me, put me on edge.

  Owen got up. “Cin’s right. It’s very busy here. We should get going.”

  Something about the forced way the words came out made me feel like Owen was saying it as much for himself as he was for his brother.

  “Hope everything heals up ok,” I told Jake. “Good luck with your fights.”

  “Thanks,” he said, hesitating. Owen couldn’t seem to get on with leaving either.

  “Listen,” Jake said.

  “It was great meeting you,” Owen said, pulling him away. Jake’s mouth twisted into a scowl as he allowed himself to be led out the door.

  As soon as they were nearly out of sight, Penelope scampered up.