Fake It

by Alexis Winter

  “I think it’s the doorbell.” He quickly looks at his watch. “It’s dinnertime,” he says, clenching his jaw in frustration.

  I stand up and adjust my dress back into place. “Well, we can continue this later. Let’s get to work.” I move across the room to fix my makeup.

  He picks up his jacket and pulls it back on just as the buzzing starts again. “I’ll wait for you downstairs?”

  I nod, glancing at him in the mirror. He reaches down and tries to adjust the massive erection that’s tenting the front of his pants.

  “And Sam?”

  I stop applying my lipstick and turn to view him. “Yeah?”

  “I think you should use this interruption to really think about what you want out of this situation. If you say no strings, I expect no strings.” Without another word, he turns and leaves me alone.

  I sit at the vanity and take a deep breath as I look myself over in the mirror while thinking about his words. I stare at the giant rock on my left hand and spin it around nervously. He’s been burned this way once before, and I have a feeling he’s not willing to let me in to allow the relationship to go any deeper. But I’m not looking for a relationship. Right now, all I’m looking for is to get him out of my system. These daydreams have only fueled the fire burning inside of me.

  One time. That’s all I’ll allow. I know from countless movies and books that friends with benefits never works. The more you do it, the more attached you get. But one time won’t hurt, right? Okay, maybe two or three times, but that’s it! We can have this trip, and when we return home, life will start getting back to normal. I’ll go back to work and so will he. We’ll go back to only seeing each other in the evenings for dinner. No relationship can grow out of that. I’ll treat this place like I treat Vegas: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

  I push away from the vanity and rush downstairs.

  JAKE SHUTTLES us from the guest house to the main house in the nicest golf cart I have ever seen. It makes my Jetta look like a heap. When we arrive at the front steps, Cam reaches forward and rings the doorbell as we both stand nervously—not saying anything. Just before the door opens, though, he takes my hand in his and gives it a small squeeze. I can’t help but notice the butterflies that flutter in my stomach at his touch. Is it excitement for what’s come? Adrenaline from the passionate kiss we just exchanged? Whatever the reason, I’m here for it.

  The door swings open and a short man with a shaved head and a bushy white beard opens the door wide. He is accompanied by a petite woman with pinned-up auburn hair that’s greying at the temples. The man is grinning as he reaches out a hand toward Cameron, who says, “Mr. Smithfield, it’s so good to see you again, sir.”

  “Please, son, call me Wayne.” The men shake hands with gusto as they exchange pleasantries before they turn their attention toward us.

  “Wayne, Mrs. Smithfield, this is my fiancée, Samantha Fox.” They both give me a warm welcome and pull us into the house.

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Samantha,” Wayne says as he turns toward the woman next to him. “Cameron, Samantha, this is my beautiful wife of forty-four years, Helen.” She gives Cameron’s hand a quick shake before pulling me in for an unexpected warm hug. I guess what they say about Southern hospitality is true.

  We make our way through the massive entryway of their beautiful home, snaking around corners and hallways into an open-concept kitchen and dining area. “You have such a beautiful home, Helen. I just love all the windows.” I can’t help but look around in awe. The house is larger than any house I’ve ever been in, but the way they’ve made it a home is warm and charming.

  After a tour of the house and some small talk, we settle into our seats at the dinner table. I fully expect waitstaff to serve us our meal, but Helen starts bringing items out of the kitchen. “Oh, do you need some help?” I ask, jumping up out of my seat.

  “No, no, dear, you stay there and enjoy some wine. I enjoy hosting.”

  She certainly has a gift for cooking, because the food is delicious—crisp green beans and buttery potatoes with a maple-glazed Cornish hen. I could get used to this Southern life.

  “I have to say I am mighty impressed you managed to tame this wild bachelor,” Wayne finally says as we settle in for dessert. Cam lets out what sounds like a nervous laugh as he settles his hand on my knee under the table. I flinch a little as he gives it a light squeeze.

  “Well, you aren’t the only one!” I say with a big grin. “Trust me, I thought I was going to have to use a branding iron to keep the ladies away.” I smirk as I lightly jab him in the side with my elbow.

  “So tell us the story, dear. How did you two meet?”

  I quickly launch into the story we had agreed upon earlier, “Well, that’s a great story, so you might want to buckle up for this one.” I tell them about my job as a waitress at the Joker Club, and how one night he came in and tried to sweep me off my feet, but since I knew of his reputation, I shooed him away. Of course, I elaborate, adding in details about how Cam would show up at my work unexpectedly to surprise me with flowers and lunch dates and beg me to give him a chance.

  I’m on a roll, making up details right and left as they come to me. “And then, one evening, we had a karaoke night at the club and he got up there and dedicated the song ‘Wonderful Tonight’ by Eric Clapton to me. At the end, he said in front of everyone that he knew from the moment he laid eyes on me that we were destined to be together, and that nothing else mattered in the world because he found me. He pulled me up on stage and we’ve been together ever since!”

  Wayne and Helen swoon at the story and grab each other’s hand on the table. Helen puts her hand to her heart and fights back a tear. “Oh, that is just the loveliest thing!”

  Cameron doesn’t seem too enthused. I can feel his grip on my knee tighten as I lean in and kiss his cheek. Before I can pull away, he turns his mouth to my ear and whispers, “We both know you’re going to pay for that.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CAMERON

  I’m trying to stay focused on the conversation at hand, but the truth is, all I can think about is hauling Samantha back to the guest house so I can have my way with her. I want her on her knees. I want her spread out in front of me begging me to make her cum with tongue. I can’t wait to plunge my cock into her and feel her fully sheathe my length with her warmth and wetness.

  I nod and laugh in agreement as she tells the engagement story and gives a detailed overview of our wedding plans. I don’t give a fuck about any of this—all I care about is getting some goddamn relief from this raging hard-on I’m sporting under the table.

  I can tell Sam is getting a lot of pleasure by making me uncomfortable with her outlandish stories of me as a lovesick fool. Well, two can play that game. Just as she’s getting to the good part, I lean down to pick up the napkin I’ve dropped under the table and slide my hand up her inner thigh, resting it just below the junction of her legs. She inhales sharply and stumbles with her words.

  “You okay, sweetheart? Need some water?” I grab her glass with my other hand as she shoots me a dangerous look that says she’s about to rip my head off. I don’t relent. Instead, I give her thigh a nice squeeze and tell her to finish the story as I plant a soft kiss on her lips.

  “Uh, where was I?” She fumbles a bit but picks up the story with the help of Helen.

  I can see the pink flush start to creep up her neck and I can’t take it any longer. I slide my hand up until I graze her panties and rub my finger back and forth over her hardened nub. She grips her water glass before chugging it like she’s just finished a marathon. I want to fix my eyes on her and watch her cum, but instead, I ask Wayne to tell us the story of how he and Helen met.

  “Forty-four years is very impressive, Wayne, and something I aspire to achieve as well. How did you and Helen meet, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  I can see a small bead of sweat forming at Samantha’s temple as she desperately tries to focus on what’s bei
ng said. At first, she squeezes my hand between her thighs—trying to get me to stop, but she has since given in. I can feel the dampness growing on her panties as I rub small circles over and over on her clit. I want so badly to push her panties aside and thrust a finger into her just so I can taste her. Suddenly, she jumps out of her seat, nearly knocking over her glass of water.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I desperately need to use the ladies’ room.”

  “Oh, of course, dear, let me show you.” Helen walks her out of the room and I turn my attention to Wayne to talk business.

  After what feels like forever, we finish up dinner and coffee and manage to discuss some of the upcoming changes that Wayne has planned to implement in his North American grocery store chain. We talk about our plans for tomorrow: I am going to take a tour of one of the facilities here in Georgia with Wayne, and Samantha will spend the afternoon with Helen.

  The ladies rejoin us and I glance down at my watch. “Well, it’s getting late and I don’t want to infringe any further on your time. We really appreciate how warmly you’ve welcomed us into your home—and Helen, that dinner was fantastic.”

  We make our way back outside and join Jake on the golf cart. The tension between Samantha and me hangs in the air like a fucking lead balloon. I can’t tell if she is going to rip my head off or rip my suit off when we walk through the front door.

  “What the actual hell, Cameron?” Rip my head off, it is. I barely get the door closed before she has a finger pointed in my chest.

  “That was so not okay! You want to make a good impression with these people and you’re molesting me under the table!”

  “Did you cum?” Her ire just turns me on even more. I’m a sick man.

  “What?” She drops her finger from my chest.

  “I said, ‘Did you cum?’ When you went to the bathroom, did you finish yourself off for me?” I can see the flush come back to her neck as it works its way up her cheeks.

  “Seriously?” That’s a yes. I can’t help but smile as I take a step toward her.

  “You did, didn’t you? Did you slip your fingers inside yourself?” She huffs loudly and rolls her eyes as she turns to walk away from me. But before she can, I reach out and grab her wrist. I spin her around and pin her against the wall.

  “Samantha, answer me. Did you stick those pretty little fingers in your pussy and make yourself cum?” Her mouth pops open but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she just slowly nods her head yes. I can’t resist any longer and slip my hand behind her neck as my lips crash against hers. She doesn’t hesitate in reciprocating as our tongues intertwine. She’s clawing at my suit coat, pushing it down my arms as she kicks off her shoes.

  I’m like a starving man at a buffet. I want to kiss every part of her while being inside her and touching her. I want to consume her. My suit coat hits the floor as she works my belt buckle loose, but I grab her hands and pin them above her head as I tear my mouth from hers.

  “Look at me.” Her chest heaves with her breathing as her hooded eyes find mine. “I’m not a nice guy, Samantha. I’m not your happily ever after. I want to fuck you until you can’t walk. I want to use you and make you cum in ways you’ve never imagined. I want you begging—screaming my name over and over while I pleasure you. This doesn’t change anything between us. Understand?” She nods her head slowly. I know I sound like a complete piece of shit, but she’s a good woman and I’m not about to break her heart or make her think this is anything more than what it is: fucking.

  I release her hands and tell her to go upstairs. I lean down and pick up my suit coat from the floor before following behind her. I don’t waste a second. The moment I enter the bedroom, I’m on her again. I need relief and I need it bad. I feel like my dick is about to rip through my pants at any second.

  Unzipping her dress and dragging it down her gorgeous body is torture. I want to cum so bad, but I want to enjoy this moment. I strip her from her bra and panties and lay her back on the bed. Her body looks like heaven in the moonlight that’s breaking through the curtains. I slowly drag my eyes from her lips, and down her taut body. The lines on her stomach are evidence that she puts in hard work to look the way she does. I want to wrap her long thighs around my head and bury my face in her sweet center.

  “Spread your legs for me.” She looks hesitant for a moment but slowly opens them a few inches. I want her spread open—wide open—so I can taste and smell her. I grab her ankles and pull them far apart as she gasps. Then I drop to my knees and inhale her delicious scent as I run my nose up her inner thigh.

  She lets out a soft whimper as my tongue dances across her clit. Her taste sinks into my tongue and my head is flooded with lust. I don’t hold back. I dive in—lapping at her most intimate parts as I hold her legs apart. I can feel her writhing beneath me as she tries to squeeze her thighs together. She’s pulling at my hair as her back arches off the bed. She’s close, on the edge. I kiss and suck at her nub as I thrust two fingers inside her and find her G-spot. I can feel her juices pooling on my tongue as she relents and lets the pleasure roll through her body. Her legs fall open and her breathing slows, and I stand and look down her body as I remove my own clothing. Her eyes are heavy with desire and her lips are swollen and pouty. She’s ready for me. I quickly grab a condom from my bag and sheathe myself before crawling up her body.

  “Let me feel you,” she says as she reaches down between us and grabs my length in her hand. She squeezes me and places the tip of my cock at her entrance. I didn’t think I could get any harder, but watching her long pale pink fingernails wrapped around my shaft has me ready to explode already.

  “Ohhhh fuuuuck, baby, I need to cum so bad. Let me in that tight little pussy of yours.” I begin to rock back and forth, inching in more and more with each thrust. She’s tight—very tight—and I’m a little more than well-endowed. I’ve struggled to get my entire length inside a woman before, but Samantha is like a vise. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m about two seconds away from blowing my load early like a teenager.

  “You’re so tight,” I grunt as I thrust a little more.

  “Just fuck me, please.” She’s whimpering and it drives me over the edge. Without thinking, I thrust into her and don’t look back. I pull myself up on my knees and hook her thighs over my arms. I thrust into her over and over, watching her tits bounce every time I impale her.

  “Yes! Yesss! Right there, oh, don’t stop!” She fists the sheets in her hands as her back arches and she yells my name. That’s what I fucking want to hear!

  Watching the orgasm rip through her body and feeling her squeeze me has me thrusting into her hard one last time before I empty myself into her. I can still feel her pussy milking me of every last drop as I collapse on top of her, burying my face in her neck.

  “Did I hurt you?” I turn toward her and smooth the hair from her face.

  “A little, but it was worth it. I’m sure I’ll be walking a little cockeyed tomorrow,” she says with a little giggle.

  I can’t remember the last time I held a woman after sex, but this feels…good, right even. Her giggle makes my heart do a little flip—something I have no interest in addressing at the moment, so instead I reach between us and cup one of her breasts.

  “I didn’t get a chance to play with these beauties yet,” I say before leaning down and covering a nipple with my mouth. A small moan escapes her lips as she pulls my face back up toward her.

  “Unless you’re ready for round two, you better cut that out!”

  I can feel a smirk spread across my face, “Well, in that case…” I say before leaning back down to continue my exploration of her supple breasts.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I wake, shower, and head out before Samantha even wakes. I’m heading to Mr. Smithfield’s corporate office and his largest distribution facility. Part of signing a new contract is due diligence, and I intend to do just that today. Wayne is an honest, hard-working businessman who can respect someone like myself who has also built a firm from
the ground up. I like the man. He’s forward and direct and I respect that. I don’t like a client who plays games or is constantly making me work hard to cover up their endless mistakes. Wayne is the kind of client who can not only make my firm endless amounts of steady money, but can open the door for even bigger fish in the future.

  I look myself over in the mirror as I button the cuffs of my shirt. Wayne insisted I not wear a suit, as he takes a more casual approach to his standard uniform of dark denim, a button-down navy shirt, and a brown suede fedora.

  Before I leave, I stop in the bedroom to admire Samantha as she sleeps. Her long, dark hair falls across the pillow and the sheets are draped seductively over her golden skin. I can see her chest rise and fall as small puffs of air escape her parted lips. She’s gorgeous—probably the hottest woman I’ve ever been with—but she doesn’t act like it. I can feel my dick stiffen as my eyes trail down her body to her exposed thigh hanging out of the blankets. I clench my jaw as I feel myself salivating. I want to taste her again. I check my watch and see that Jake will be picking me up in ten minutes. Without a second thought, I drag the blankets down Samantha’s body, causing her to stir awake. A look of confusion washes over her face. “What are you doing?”

  “Having breakfast.” I say as I lower my mouth to the delicious apex of her thighs and set about making her cum—twice before my ride arrives.

  “You don’t want me to return the favor?” she says as I brush her hand away from my belt.

  “Not right now, sweetheart. My ride is pulling up, but we can certainly request tit-for-tat later.” Before I can think through my actions, I lean down and plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  I turn and walk out of the room as confusion settles over me. I don’t know what prompted such an act of endearment. I run my hand gruffly over my face as I step onto the porch and breathe in some fresh air. The last thing I need to do is confuse her. I don’t want to face the fact that it might be me who is becoming confused.