by Zoey Parker
“That’s one way of putting it,” she said, undoing his buckle.
He smirked. “You looking for something?”
She nodded, wetting her bottom lip. “I didn’t get a chance to formally introduce myself.”
She made quick work of his belt, then unzipped his jeans. She yanked them down, looking voracious as she ran a palm over his half-hard cock. Trent bunched up his shirt so he could watch the show better. She tugged his boxers down next, letting out a low hum of appreciation.
“You have such a big cock,” she murmured, taking his dick in her hand. It wasn’t fully hard, but it would be soon with her touching him like that. She peeked up at him through her lashes as she brought her lips to the tip of his cock. The soft brush made it twitch in her hands. “Almost too big to fit inside me.”
He grunted, his cock going rock-solid in her grip. “I made it fit.”
“Yeah, you did.” She pressed a light kiss to the bulbous tip of his cock, then dragged her tongue down his shaft. His head rolled back. Her touch felt divine. “God, it fit so good inside me. Stretched me. Look how big you got just thinking about it.”
She was right. His cock had swelled, standing tall and proud. She danced her tongue around the tip, then took the length of him in her mouth. Soft, wet heat. He groaned, fisting her hair. So Sam Black was more ravenous than he’d bargained for. He liked that.
“God damn, you’re huge,” she murmured once she’d broken the seal.
She dove in again, taking the length of his cock inside her mouth, pumping the base of his dick with her free hand as she sucked him off. She looked up at him as she did so, sending a jolt through him.
“You want more of my cum?” he asked, his voice coming out ragged. Her cheeks were sucked in from the pressure as she sucked him off. “What I gave you the first time wasn’t enough?”
She nodded, sucking him faster, gurgling a little. He bucked against her, driving his cock deeper into her throat. She moaned, never breaking the seal.
“I got more for you, babe,” he said, the hot prickles churning in his core the sign he needed.
He bucked against her again, drilling his cock as deep as it would go. She choked a little, but it was enough to send him over the edge. His abs tensed and he came, shooting out round after round.
Sam groaned, watching him as she took the full brunt of his load. His cum dribbled out the corners of her mouth. She swallowed once, then again, then pulled back, looking satisfied.
“Much better,” she said, wiping at her mouth. “Maybe that will help me pay off some more of the debt?”
The way she arched her brow told him she was up to the task. And if that was the case, she might pay off the whole damn debt herself.
Chapter Eleven
Trent and Sam spent the rest of the night lounging around, watching TV, making dinner. He spent the night because she’d told him he could and because it just seemed kinda right. Why not start sharing a home for the ruse?
The next morning, she had to wake up early and go to work, but only for a half day. He was sorta sad to see her go, but it gave him time to wake up, take a shower, and figure out the game plan. She came home around noon with a bag of bagels and take-out coffee. As he tore into the breakfast, he told her about the plan for the day.
“I need to find some nice clothes.” He chomped on the bagel, looking her up and down. “I assume you have plenty for yourself.”
“Duh. I’ve got enough nice things to fill a museum. Let’s go shopping.”
He sighed. “I hate shopping.”
“Well, we’ll need to do it. Or else you’re wearing that leather jacket, which, let’s be real, is hot but doesn’t exactly scream fancy.” She ripped off a piece of bagel. “Not to mention the days-old underwear.”
“Fine. I’ll swing by my house, grab some stuff…” He chewed thoughtfully. “I think I need a haircut too.”
“Let’s get it all done.” She smiled, her glossy lips reminding him of how perfect they felt wrapped around his cock. He’d come three times yesterday but still wanted it like he’d never come in his life. Being with Sam only made him want more of her.
They finished their bagels and coffee, then Sam grabbed her purse, and they headed out the door. Trent drove since he liked being in control of that. Besides, if anything came up last minute, he’d need to dash off. Being in the Sokolov family meant being always available. Even over the next few weeks, as Trent stepped back and tended to this other business, he’d still drop everything and come if they called.
“Where should we start?” he asked as he paused at an intersection en route to downtown.
“The mall,” she said, flashing a grin. “That way we can knock it all out at once.”
He groaned. “The mall. I thought I was old enough to officially never go back there.”
“Not old enough, it seems,” Sam said, smirking.
She’d softened since yesterday – must have been the mind-blowing orgasms he’d given her that did the trick. Almost seemed like she was happy to be here. And as for Trent, well, he sure was damn glad he had a sidekick as gorgeous as she was.
The mall wasn’t that busy in the early afternoon. They walked over the gleaming white tiles, peering into stores, debating what he needed and how much to spend. Trent let her take creative control but set his limit at $100. He couldn’t imagine spending any more than that on clothes he might never wear again.
Sam led him to the men’s side of an Express, straight to the clearance rack. He leaned against a display while she rifled through the options, her face set in concentration.
“You look like you mean business,” he commented.
“Trust me. Hunting for clothes is basically my second career.” She pulled out a shirt, held it up, then shook her head, replacing it on the rack. “You can get amazing deals, if you know what to look for. And I have the eye.”
“I believe you,” he said, scanning the store.
A few other women shopped, sending curious glances his way.
Sam must have noticed, because she said, “They’re looking at you because it’s not every day you see a hot straight man in here looking for clothes.”
“You got the straight part right,” he said, pushing at her hip as she walked by, starting to comb through the other side of the rack. “Not sure about the other part.”
She sent him a look that said duh. “Don’t act coy. You know you’re hot as fuck.”
“Look who’s talking.”
A smile tugged at those pretty pink lips. “Yeah, well, once I get you cleaned up, you’re gonna have ladies scraping themselves off the floors.”
The thought appealed to him. But as of right now, the only lady he wanted anything to do with was the one in front of him. Even if this only lasted for a couple of weeks, the one-on-one time with Sam was proving to be worth it.
Sam finally found a pair of black dress pants and a long-sleeve black button up shirt that was secretly black-on-black pinstripes. Seemed good enough for him. He went into the over-lit dressing room to try things on. The shirt fit really well – and he had to admit, it looked great. He rolled the sleeves about midway up his forearm. He turned around, checking out the pants from all angles. The only thing that didn’t quite fit was the work boots.
He strode out of the dressing room, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.
Sam’s eyes got wide. “Holy shit.”
“That’s a good holy shit, right?”
She nodded, her gaze lingering on him. Yeah, he had a feeling that was a really good holy shit. The kind that would make the rest of the day very interesting.
“Why did you roll up the sleeves?”
He looked down at the shirt. “What’s wrong with them?”
She huffed. “Everything becomes 1000% hotter when you roll up the sleeves. Go back in there.” Sam pushed him back into the dressing room. “I can’t look at you much longer, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
He laughed as she slammed the dressing ro
om door shut. “I think I know how to fix that problem.”
“You sure do,” she said. “Get changed. We’re not done yet.”
Trent bought the clothes, feeling more accomplished than he had in a long time. And part of him was excited about this dinner date. Even though it was a ruse, he liked the chance to go out and be seen with Sam. This whole situation was equal parts exciting and predicament. And hell, it wasn’t ideal, but he was at least gonna enjoy it for what it was worth.
Sam took him to the salon in the mall. He shook his head once he caught sight of the full line of women in the hairdresser chairs.
“I need to go to a barber,” he said.
“Um, news flash: all these women in here cut men’s hair too.”
“Yeah, but…” He jerked his chin toward the audience of ladies. “This is a place for women. Look.”
A knowing smile crossed her face. “Trent, you scared of a handful of vaginas? Come on. Man up. You’re going to get a better cut here, and if you have any hope of pulling off that outfit to perfection, it’s through getting your hair done here.”
He gritted his teeth, handing off the Express bag. “Fine. You win.” He strode up to the receptionist’s desk looking out toward the mall. He flashed his most winning grin. “Hi. I need a haircut. Like, immediately.”
The receptionist looked more than pleased to fit him in immediately. In fact, all of the women who looked his way seemed more than pleased that he was joining them.
Sam followed close behind once he was led to a chair, swiping through her phone.
“This is what you should get,” she said, showing him the screen.
An impossibly trendy style faced him, with longish pieces in the front swept to the side, the sides taped into a fade. It didn’t look bad. And hell, if he was going all in on this, why not go all the way?”
“If you say so,” he said, clicking his tongue.
A hair stylist showed up a moment later and introduced herself while draping a cape over Trent’s shoulders. Sam conversed with her about the cut and then plunked herself down in the row of plush chairs near the front while his hair stylist got to work.
Trent was able to zone out while she worked. It was sort of calming, really. The whole day was. He was a far cry from admitting that he liked shopping, but he could at least admit that today had been fun. With Sam. The stylist nodded once she was done, looking very pleased with herself.
Sam must have noticed because she came barreling over.
“I love it!” Sam said, hopping up and down behind him.
Trent snuck a hand out from under the cape and ran his fingers through his hair. She’d taken off a lot – at least a few inches from the back.
But as he studied himself in the mirror, it almost seemed like someone else was looking out at him. A different Trent. A better Trent. And hell, at least he had this: a new cut, a temporary style upgrade, and Sam’s big blue eyes trained on him like she wanted to eat him alive.
“Looks good to me.”
Yeah. This day had definitely been one of the better shopping days of his life.
Chapter Twelve
Sam wasn’t exactly thrilled to be heading to this dinner on the swanky end of town. Really, it reeked of pending trouble – posing as a married couple, with Trent of all people, just seemed like the foundation that it was built upon could erode at any time.
But there were a few things she didn’t mind in the meantime. And one of them was the chance to check out her sexy sidekick every few seconds. She didn’t grow tired of looking over and finding him there, impossibly handsome in his new black clothes, hair expertly trimmed, looking every inch the magazine model she knew was hiding inside him.
If only he’d stop working for mob bosses… the man could have a career in print magazines.
“So tell me again,” she said slowly, watching as the bright lights of downtown flashed by. “Why I have to call you Matthew with this guy.”
“I’m pretending to be his long-lost son,” Trent said, scrubbing his freshly shaved jaw.
She fingered the silky mauve material of her dress. It was one of her more elegant pieces, with a boat neck and form-fitting just enough to leave some things to the imagination. She’d paired it with a string of pearls. “And why is that?”
“This guy owes the Sokolovs a lot of money,” he said, slowing as they approached the restaurant. “But it’s tied up somewhere. Word is, he hates his latest wife and wants to get rid of her. Probably has a prenup and all that to deal with. So, if he can sign the money over to his ‘son’, he’ll avoid losing it all to her. Then the Sokolovs get what they’re owed.”
Sam frowned. “How can you do all these dirty biddings for these people? They’re not even your family.”
Trent snorted, pulling into an empty space at the side of the building. “Trust me. They’re the closest thing I got.”
His response shut Sam up, and she got out of the car, his response heavy on her mind. The truth was: she didn’t understand his world – not one bit. She could pretend like their worlds used the same rules, but it was clear they didn’t. Part of her was desperate to learn more. The other part just wanted to run far, far away.
But that was no longer an option.
She shut the door behind her, her heels clicking on the asphalt parking lot as she headed toward Trent, who waited with an arm out.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmured, linking her arm with his.
“This is how I treat my wife.”
She stopped cold, mouth parting. “Oh my God. Matthew.” She swatted his arm. Leaning in, she whispered, “We don’t have rings!”
His face fell. “Oh fuck. I didn’t even think about that.” He was quiet for a moment, face creased with thought. She wracked her brain for a solution.
“Maybe we can just say we didn’t use them,” he offered.
“No.” She shook her head. “Look at me – I am not the kind of girl who wouldn’t want a ring.” She clicked her tongue. “I think I know. We’ll say they’re getting cleaned. We sent them off at the same time. Because we’re so in love, we can’t even stand for our rings to be apart.”
He laughed, squeezing her hip. “Sounds good to me.”
Trent led the way toward the front door, holding it open for her. Immediately, the smell of garlic greeted them. Sam took a deep breath.
“Your dad must have money, even if he says he doesn’t,” she mused aloud. “I love this place. And it’s expensive.”
The place looked caught somewhere between an Italian villa and a Greek temple. It was gorgeous, with lush greenery spilling down the walls, hanging baskets dotting the corners, tall spiral columns separating the foyer from the rest of the restaurant.
“Matthew Mueller,” he said to the hostess. “We’re meeting two others here.”
“Your party is waiting for you.” The receptionist flashed a smile toward Trent, one that made Sam’s low belly tighten. She’d seen the way women looked at him all damn day. It was getting a little old. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, “Can’t you see he’s taken?”
Except he wasn’t taken. This was a ruse. A show. Something that would be discontinued as soon as humanly possible. So why did she still crave the chance to be at Trent’s side?
“Matthew,” she said, purring out the word as they followed the hostess into the warm, golden-lit interior of the restaurant. “Just getting my practice in.”
Trent squeezed her hip again, sending a rush of desire through her. They rounded a corner, and the table for four came into view. A middle-aged man, looking thoroughly dour and stressed, sat next to a woman who was probably barely older than Sam. The man waved. Lucas.
Trent and Sam glided up to the table. The smile on the woman’s face was the fakest she’d seen.
“What’s up, Dad?” Trent offered a hug to the man, and they came together awkwardly. Trent nodded at the lady. “Darla. Or sorry, Stepmom. I’d like you two to meet Sam.” He sent her a smile. “My gorgeous wife.”
>
Sam felt a blush creep into her cheek as she offered a hand to both Lucas and Darla. “Please to meet you. I never thought I’d get the chance to meet Matthew’s father, truthfully.”
“Well this is your lucky day,” Lucas said, easing back into his chair. He waved down a server. “Bring us a bottle of champagne, please. I have a new daughter-in-law.”
Sam giggled. When she swept her gaze toward Trent, he looked uncomfortable. His eyes kept darting between everyone, tugging at his collar. Now that they were seated, the heat was on.
