Playing Pretend Box Set

by Natasha L. Black

  More appreciative chuckling from the crowd.

  Everything else—the crowd, the priest, and what he was saying, was blurred, as Giovanni and I drew closer. And closer. And closer. Until our lips met, and my whole world sharpened to him.

  My husband. My lover. My best friend. My incredible man.

  Yes, today was going to be a great day. Today and the rest of our lives.

  Sure enough, the rest of the day was fun.

  When I threw my bouquet over my shoulder, Jen caught it, throwing a wink to Gino. Giovanni walked over to personally congratulate Gino, since we'd just gotten the news the night before that Gino was officially six months sober. He was a regular at his local A.A. meetings, and just an all-around great, stable guy. He and Jen were inseparable.

  As for the reception, it was a blast. The band played a collection of our favorite songs, and even the sky was a happy, sunny blue.

  Then, at the end of it all, Giovanni swept me into his arms.

  "What are you—" I squealed as he lifted me in the air.

  He just waved to the other guests as we passed. "Sorry, very important business to attend to!"

  He swept us into our suite, and I marveled, once again, at the beauty of our lodgings. The bedspreads were mostly beige, but had colorful, tropically themed pillows and when you looked to the ceiling, it felt as if you were in a grass hut.

  "I've been wanting to do this all night," he said, pulling down the shoulder of my wedding dress.

  He pressed kisses into my collarbone. My body trembled in anticipation.

  As his lips nibbled, sucked, and kissed at the newly revealed skin, my hands combed through his hair. So soft, so beautiful. All of this, mine.

  My hand moved to his tie, undoing it. He quickly pulled it loose from his collar and wrapped it around my neck, pulling me toward him. I dipped, trailing my lips over the bulge forming in his pants. I could feel him stiffen even more as I pressed my tongue against his zipper, moistening the fabric.

  "Tease," Giovanni said.

  I kept my gaze on my prize as I unzipped his pants. "You like it."

  His hand moved to my head, as he took the opportunity to caress my hair. "We'll see about that."

  Then, unveiling his cock, I lowered my lips to it. At first, I savored it. I lapped around his upper thighs, then over to the slightly haired area above his hard on. I took each one of his balls into my mouth and sucked slowly, methodically, rolling each around in my mouth. I gently dragged my teeth along the skin as I made my way from one side the other, making sure to be gentle.

  By the time I made it to his cock, Giovanni was pulsing. I dragged my tongue up and down, covering every inch of skin, until the only thing left to do was to take his length all the way into my mouth. As soon as the tip of his cock collided with the back of my throat, Giovanni pulled away and moved us to the bed. He tossed me onto the soft duvet and maneuvered me, so my head was hanging off the edge, before he slowly eased his cock back into my mouth.

  As I continued working on him, reaching my hands around to grip the backs of his thighs, Giovanni leaned over and began skillfully placing kisses along the length of my body. I wiggled and writhed as his warm lips grazed my breast, my rib, my hip. I closed my eyes and struggled to focus. Moving my hands in corkscrew motions, in sync with my mouth, taking breaks to lick and suck and tickle patches of skin with my tongue. I almost lost myself in the fluid motion, only conscious of my lips pulling over my teeth to form a ring of suction around Giovanni's throbbing cock.

  Meanwhile, one of Giovanni's fingers had entered me as his tongue and stubble teased at my aching pussy. Fuck, did it feel good. And fuck, did it make it hard to concentrate. Yet, somehow, everything fused, the way he peeled off my panties and pressed his lips to my clit, wiggling his fingers in me as I sucked him with everything I had. I cupped his balls and we were both groaning, bouncing in time with each other. Everything blurred into pleasure, exploding out of my center. I came, then, as everything came to another crescendo. I was screaming around his cock, Giovanni was groaning into me, and it seemed like heaven itself was smiling down on us as we came together.

  Afterwards, he held me, his fingers playing over my curves. I had no doubt we would do it again. And again. We were in love. We were happy. More than that, we were damn lucky.

  Lucky enough to spend the rest of our lives together.

  The End

  Book Three - Pretend I’m Yours

  1

  Drake

  I splashed water over my face and looked at myself in the mirror. Dark circles were under my normally bright blue eyes, but even today they looked dull. Not to mention the creases in my forehead made me look older than I was. The scar on my chest stared back at me. A bullet wound that was lucky to have missed my heart but left me a permanent reminder regardless.

  I sighed. I might have been a little worse for wear after getting out of the military, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t easy being a Navy SEAL, and I’d seen my fair share of combat over the course of the ten years I was enlisted.

  But it wasn’t the Navy that had left me so despondent. It was the fact that I was home. I didn’t want to be home. Home was the last place on the planet I ever thought I’d return to.

  The city life bustled outside, but I stayed in my hotel room. I didn’t want to go out there and see people. I didn’t want to buy drinks and pretend to be having a good time. I didn’t want to even think. I missed the regimented routine of a mission.

  Thoughts were relentless, however, and they focused on one person and one person only. Anna Marie, my ex-wife.

  Anna Marie and I had been high school sweethearts after growing up two doors down from one another most of our lives. Neither of us really knew how it happened, it just did. We fit together so well, and our plans for the future matched perfectly. We knew we wanted to have a family, we knew we wanted to stay in Chicago, and most importantly, we knew we wanted to be together.

  She was beautiful. Tall, blonde, and fun-loving. She wanted to be a model more than anything, and I had no doubts in my mind that she would make it her career. She was a natural in front of the camera, and I didn’t pretend not to notice when she turned heads everywhere we went.

  We were the prom king and queen, and on top of our game. The day she and I married was the best day of my life.

  But it wasn’t to last.

  Anna Marie found that modeling wasn’t an easy career to break in to. There were thousands of other models, all fighting for their place in front of the camera, and many of them had the money in their families to put them there. Though we loved each other dearly, it was no secret that money wasn’t a luxury we’d been given in life.

  We had enough to scrape by, but with Anna Marie missing work to audition for modeling gigs, things were getting strained between us. I’d never been a stellar student and college wasn’t in my plan. The job I had working at the factory close to our small studio was barely covering rent. I knew I had to figure out a way to make some cash that would support her, and the answer seemed to be coming from the military.

  The promises of the benefits they would give me for enlisting were more than enticing when I thought about how happy Anna Marie would be. She would get her career, I would get to see the world, and after a few years of me being away, we’d get to finally live our happily ever after.

  At first, she didn’t like the idea. But I managed to convince her, and by the time I was twenty-one I was on my way to basic training. It wasn’t easy, that was for damn sure, but I thought about my bride back home, and how much I wanted to make her dream come true.

  I thought about what we’d be able to do with our lives when she was a model. Treating one of the best cities in the country as home base, we’d be able to travel to our hearts’ content. I’d show her all the places that I’d see in the military, and she’d look even prettier in my eyes.

  Life was set to be perfect.

  Until it wasn’t.

  I served four years with the
SEALs, but when I came home on leave, it quickly became evident that the money wasn’t going to be enough. Anna Marie was stressed out and angry most of the time, blaming me for not having the funds to support her.

  It hurt to hear the words coming from her lips after all that I’d done over the course of those four years, but once again the answer seemed to be in signing up again. After all, we’d managed to make it work for four years, so what was another four?

  It would all be worth it in the end I told myself again, when I got to see how happy I’d made my beautiful bride, and she’d get to realize her dream. I went back in for another four, thinking that that would be all that I had to do to make her happy.

  But things began to change. Two years into my second enlistment, we began to fight even when I wasn’t home. Anna Marie didn’t feel like she was seeing me enough. She refused to understand that I was once again signed into service, and I was going to have to live out my commitment to the Navy.

  It became stressful to hear from her, and I started replying to her emails less frequently. I didn’t call her as often as I could have, and I didn’t prioritize video chats back home. I wanted her, but I couldn’t handle the stress of fighting with her while I was overseas.

  I swore to myself I would fix things when I was home, and the time couldn’t pass fast enough. I made promises to my wife, telling her that things were going to work out between us. I would make damn sure of that. She would get to be a model, and she would be happy.

  But, as time wore on, I started to notice that she wasn’t reaching out to me as often as she could, either. She would let my emails sit for over a week before sending me something short and trite in reply. She didn’t prioritize me, and I began to worry.

  My best friend, Charlie, had promised me that he would make sure Anna Marie was alright while I was gone. He was the son of a prominent banker in the city, so he had his career laid out for him from the cradle. I trusted him with everything I had; I thought he was a good man.

  When I asked him about my wife, he’d often assure me that she was doing just fine. She was doing her best to work and audition for gigs, and he did what he could to treat her to a dinner or a movie every so often. I was grateful to him for it.

  I didn’t like the idea of my wife sitting at home for eight years while she waited for me to get out of the Service.

  When I was finally free, I headed home as fast as I could. I had spent enough time away from my wife, and I wanted to start our lives together in the same place. I had no intention of ever getting back into the military, and I hoped that we were finally financially secure enough that she would be able to focus solely on modeling.

  I didn’t mind finding another job to help us get by. As long as we had the money in the bank from the time I spent in the desert, I knew we’d be fine. It would be the boost we needed to get through the early years of our careers, and we’d get to finally see our dreams come true.

  But I came home to emptiness. Anna Marie wasn’t the only thing missing, either. As I looked through our little studio, I could see that there were a lot of her things missing as well. It was as though she had packed her bags and gotten out of there quickly, perhaps as soon as she heard I was coming home.

  I’d wanted to surprise her and called her when I was just an hour away. I’d wanted to give her enough time to get ready for a nice evening out on the town, telling her that I was taking her out as soon as I got back.

  She was out, alright, but it looked to me like she didn’t have any sort of intention of returning.

  It didn’t take long for me to learn the truth. She and Charlie had been having an affair for over a year, and she was done with me. He had money, and he could help her achieve her dream. He clearly didn’t care that she was a married woman or that I was his best friend who had trusted him, and the two of them were moving in together into his penthouse in another part of Chicago.

  I was crushed. All my dreams, all the hard work that I’d done, was gone. It didn’t matter that I’d spent all that time in the Service, I had nothing to come home to. The entire reason I had joined in the first place had run away with my best friend, and I was left to face life alone.

  Devastated, I went back to the only thing I’d really known in my adult life. I joined for another four years, only to be shot two years in. The bullet had come close to my heart, and I’d spent more than two months in the hospital. Unable to return to duty after that, I was discharged with honors, but once again sent back to Chicago.

  I’d been back in town a week, and I had to admit, I was sick of living in a hotel room and out of a duffle bag. My wife was gone, my best friend was gone, and I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t want to stay, either.

  Other friends I had in the city tried to get me to go out with them. They encouraged me to move on from my wife by finding another fling. I was good looking, they said, so it wouldn’t be hard for me to get another girl in bed. Not to mention how many women went crazy for a military man.

  There was a part of me that thought they may be right. I was muscular, very much in shape after my time spent on missions. I’d turned thirty-one just days before I was shot, so I was still in the prime of my life. My black hair was a stark contrast to my blue eyes, and my angular jaw was one thing Anna Marie always said was sexy.

  I could be a catch if I wanted to.

  But that was the problem. I didn’t. It had been two years since she’d broken my heart and I still didn’t want anything to do with love.

  I was done with women. Done giving my heart to any of them, anyway. I didn’t want to get into another relationship. I was just out to make myself happy. Sure, I wouldn’t mind seducing a woman and bringing her back to my bed, but I didn’t want it to go any further than that, and I didn’t have the patience for drama I was sure that scenario would cause.

  With all that Chicago had to offer, I still felt trapped and alone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to hear from anyone. The city was far too small knowing that Anna Marie and Charlie were in it, and I just wanted all of it to go away.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. I was back to civilian life, and that meant that I had to face the facts. No more hiding out in shithole barracks in the desert, no more pushing my problems out of my mind so I could just worry about my orders.

  I was home.

  2

  Hannah

  I dropped my head onto the open book and sighed. School felt impossible as usual, and I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the rest of the semester. Finals were coming up in a matter of weeks, and if I was going to graduate this year, I was going to have to really throw my heart and soul into it.

  Not that I hadn’t already, but it had been a rocky road to get even this far. It seemed that so many things were stacked up against me, no matter how hard I fought to stay afloat.

  A failed relationship that still haunted me, a family that didn’t speak to me, and barely scraping by to pay my own way had me at my wit’s end. Not to mention the fact that I had been discouraged more than once by my boyfriend for the field of work I wanted to get in to anyway.

  I had always felt that my situation was unique. I knew I had a lot going for me. I came from a wealthy family, I had an excellent work ethic, and I had a heart for others. I wanted nothing more than to help at risk youth within the inner city, giving them the mental health support that they needed to stay off the street and off drugs, and to deal with the shit their broken families dumped on them.

  I’d always thought that I would have the support of my loved ones going into such a field, but I’d never been more wrong.

  My parents were pissed from the beginning. My mother often told me that I should go into something far more glamorous. I looked the part, after all. At least, that’s what she told me.

  I was slightly built. Delicate, as she would say. I had chestnut hair and brown eyes to match with just the hint of freckles on my cheeks. I had a smile that could kill, and my slender frame was perfect
ly proportioned. Nothing was too big, nothing was too small.

  And I didn’t care about any of it. My mother had always been far more vain than I, and she didn’t understand why looks didn’t matter to me. She didn’t understand why I was so determined to help young boys and girls, either.

  Often, she and I had gotten into arguments over the vile and degrading things she’d call people she didn’t feel measured up to her worth, and I couldn’t stand it. As a result, I refused to let them help me pay for school. The money was there, and it was mine to take.

  It had been put in a trust fund when I was younger, and I inherited it when I turned eighteen. But I just let it sit. They didn’t have any access to it, but I didn’t want to touch it, either. I knew it drove them crazy watching me work my way through school like any normal person would, and I didn’t care.

  It was bad enough that I lived in an apartment owned by my parents, and that my unlimited credit card bill went to their address. Of course, I never used the damn thing. I viewed it as something for emergencies only, and I didn’t want it to indulge in the shallow lifestyle they were very much part of. It would only be a way for them to control me anyway.

  I was stubborn, I knew that for a fact, but I also didn’t care about that either. Perhaps it was the stubbornness that made me not care, but whatever it was, I knew what I wanted in my life, and I wasn’t going to let anyone pay my way for me or stand in my way of achieving my dream.

  And that included my now ex-boyfriend, Brandon Carr.

  I’d met Brandon at one of my family’s galas. Since they felt they paid what they owed the world by giving large donations to the police and fire departments every year, it had become common for them to throw lavish parties to celebrate, well, themselves mostly.

  I didn’t particularly care for the galas, but I’d been going to them ever since I was a little girl, and I continued even as an adult. It was far easier to show up and endure the relentless questions from my extended family than to have them blowing up my phone with text messages wondering why I wasn’t there.