by Christa Wick
“Then pretend it’s someone else touching you.” His hand traveled up to my breast, palming my flesh as his hips pressed into the swell of my stomach. “Someone you want caressing you. Someone who turns you on so much you’ll throw caution to the wind and have sex with him in an elevator.”
My nipples hardened. Blake was the only one I wanted touching me, the only man who could make me lose myself like how he was saying. And I was scared shitless I’d feel that way far longer than our pretend marriage was going to last.
Reaching behind him, he stopped the elevator abruptly.
His lips went straight to the spot just below my right ear that he knew could make my knees give out. I clutched at his shoulders, willed myself to stay standing.
“What’s his name?” he hissed. There was a throbbing edge to his whisper, his hand gently, but firmly squeezing my breast in punctuation. “Is it Drummond? Is he the one you were thinking about just now?”
I pressed my head against the wall so I could see Blake’s face. He was kidding, right? Kevin was handsome, but he was also a total cock magnet. Surely Blake had noticed?
Only Blake's face didn’t look like he was kidding. His gray eyes were darkening, the pupils pulsing against the irises. Thrown by the intensity of his gaze, the…possessiveness I could see, but didn’t understand in the least, I swallowed hard before I managed a short stammer. “Why would you possibly think I’d be thinking about Kevin right now?”
He ran his fingertips up my arm, all the way to my face, as he carefully studied my reaction. “You don’t wince when he touches you. Are you in love with him?”
I wanted to volley Blake’s words back at him and say that the man I was in love with was clueless to the fact that his every touch was breaking my heart. Instead, I just shook my head and said quietly, “I swear, I wasn’t thinking about Kevin.”
His hands moved quickly, one against my breast once more, the other cupping my mound. “Then who’s this heat for, P.J.?”
He kneaded me, breast and pussy. His mouth zeroed in on mine, his tongue forcing my lips open, forcing my entire mouth to yield to his kiss. “Who are you going to think of when I fuck you on Sunday? Who have you been thinking of each time I’ve touched you?”
Blake kissed me again, everything rougher and faster. I closed my eyes and bit down on the moan clawing its way up my throat. His hips started to grind against me. His hands cupped my bottom and lifted me, until I had to throw my legs around his hips to steady myself. Even with our clothes separating us, I could feel the thick bulge of his hard cock against my sensitive clit. He was dry fucking me, bringing me to climax with who knew how many guards watching us on the security camera.
The moan finished clawing its way out. My ass cheeks tensed as another moan whipped through me and he hugged my mound tight against his dick. “Are you coming, baby?”
I didn’t need to answer with words, my body was doing all the speaking for me. My arms were wrapped around his shoulders, one of my hands cradling the back of his skull, my nails digging into his scalp as my hips started to jerk.
I couldn’t stop from crying out as my orgasm crashed over me, intense and seemingly never-ending. But I at least managed to keep from screaming his name.
When the aftershocks eventually winded down, Blake gently eased me onto my feet, his gaze lasering into me as he reached behind him to restart the elevator’s descent.
As the rest of the floors passed, he didn’t look away from my face—wouldn’t let me look away either. His hand cupped my face every time I tried and forced me to stay connected with him via that intense, soul-gazing stare until we reached the parking level and the doors opened.
Finally, he spoke, his voice pulsing with protectiveness and a palpable possessiveness that took my breath away. “I had them turn the camera off before we got on the elevator.” Pressing his lips to my forehead, he ushered me out of the elevator. “No way in hell I’d ever let anyone see you come apart like that, baby. That’s for my eyes only. Always.”
Somehow, my heart began pounding even harder, making me almost lightheaded as he walked me over to the waiting car and folded me into the backseat.
“Don’t wait up, love. I need to put in some extra hours so I can travel this weekend, and even more hours so I can take next week off.” His eyes darkened with heat, and purpose, and something else I couldn’t explain. “After Sunday, we’re both going to need it.”
There was no mistaking the import of his words, or his meaning.
On Sunday night, Blake Cross was going to claim me in every sense of the word.
FOURTEEN
- Pippa -
Blake was a ghost until the weekend.
He didn’t get back to the penthouse until late the last three nights, didn’t sleep in the same bed with me as far as I could tell, and was out before I got up to go to work.
Then came Saturday morning when he greeted me bright and early with a soft kiss. “Good morning, beautiful. Ready to get married this weekend?”
I remained unmoving under the sheets and feigned sleep. It was either that or start heading to the airport…and my wedding weekend.
A low chuckle vibrated out of him before he shifted to move his lips to my neck.
I quickly dove under the comforter, pulling it over my head completely for protection—no way I’d be able to survive his lips all over me after three days and nights without any physical contact with the man; I was only human.
Feeling his weight shift on the bed, I tried to figure out what his next move would be when I felt the bottom edge of the covers started a slow crawl up my legs. I quickly pulled my knees to my chest and tried to wrap the covers tighter around me.
“I’m going to have one hell of a time getting through airport security with you slung over my shoulder and still wearing your nightie, baby.”
The sheets inched just a little higher while his fingertips brushed the sole of my foot. My foot twitched. I pulled it closer to me. He ran one finger halfway up the curve of my calf, then detoured right over to the threshold of my pussy.
His knuckles rubbing against the edge of my panties, I heard his soft, heated laugh when my inner muscles flexed against his fingers.
“Baby, don’t tempt me.” He cupped my bottom. “It’s been hard as hell staying out of here these last two nights. Now that our wedding is tomorrow, it’ll be a miracle if I last that long.”
Need and panic paralyzed me, warred for top honors over what was distressing me more.
“Shhh…love.” Blake leaned over me, pulling the cover down enough to expose my face. I kept my eyes closed. His hand moved lower, the knuckles grazing up and down my core through my panties. His other hand stroked my hair. Kissing along the side of my nose, he caught a tear before transferring the salty drop to my lips. “You need to get ready to go, P.J. Just do that first step and let me handle the rest of the weekend. Okay?”
One last kiss, one last stroke, and then he left me to get ready.
Twenty minutes later I emerged from the shower in a rush to find that he’d already packed my bags and laid an outfit on the bed for me to wear. It was a pale turquoise georgette over a silk sheath. A pashmina stole in matching blue to keep my bare arms warm was folded next to the dress. All of it was from the same boutique as the earlier outfits he’d bought for me to wear.
Despite the whirlwind of emotions twisting through my stomach, I felt a soft smile curve my lips in appreciation over the beautiful travel wardrobe he put together for me.
Thinking about, but not wanting to see just yet, what type of lingerie he’d packed for me, I felt my skin flush hot. Trying to ignore my wicked imagination, I slipped into the dress. My hands were still fumbling at the back zipper when Blake came in to help me. He ran a finger up my spine, the whisper of contact forcing me to stand straighter—it was either that or melt into a puddle of arousal at his feet—as he drew the zipper up and kissed my shoulder, eyes on me through the mirror the entire time.
Our limo wasn’t
the first to arrive at the airport. In fact, it looked to be the last.
Stepping onto the privately chartered plane, we were greeted with a warm round of applause.
Looking around to find that every person there was a part of my staff, I stiffened. If Blake had invited anyone he knew, they definitely weren’t on the plane.
Way to drive a stake through a girl’s heart.
Running his hand along my side, Blake whispered in my ear. “Relax, P.J. Let me explain.”
The plane didn’t have regular seats. Instead, two long leather couches curved against its sides. Leading me to the center of one, he pulled me onto his lap and buried his face against the side of my neck. He rubbed my arm, speaking so low only I could hear him. “Abigail and her family will be there tomorrow, accompanied by Carson, of course, who is serving more as armed escort than driver for them since I have a full security detail arranged for you once we land. Abigail and Carson are the closest thing I have to family. Beyond them, I only have business associates, love, not friends. No one I care about like you care about your workers.”
He planted a soft kiss at the curve of my jaw. “I wanted you to have a nice, special weekend surrounded by those who love you.”
While I believed he’d done just that, I couldn’t help but wish for an empty plane instead, and a weekend without a single familiar face aside from one—really, the only person whose love I wanted to be surrounded by this weekend.
The only person whose love I knew I wouldn’t be able to pretend would be mine when I said, “I do.”
FIFTEEN
- Pippa -
Our plane landed at the Owen Roberts International Airport a little over three hours later. After a quick nod by a customs official, we piled into white limos, all the women from my staff in the first two. Blake and the other men from my staff in the third.
Michelle Hennings, my lead marketing specialist and a close friend since college, gave me a bear hug as soon as the limo pulled away from the terminal. “We’ve got the best hen party ever planned! Blake gave us everything we asked for!”
“Including two strippers!” That was Clara, recently divorced from the man she’d lost her virginity to. She pointed a finger at every last one of us. “Fair warning, ladies, one of those hotties is mine!”
The party started then and there and didn’t let up for one minute.
By eight p.m., every last one of the women was at least slightly drunk. I had no idea what was going on over at the men’s party, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous.
Real engagement or not, I kept my hands to myself with the male strippers—had no desire to touch any man that wasn’t Blake. I had no idea if he would feel the need to do the same at his party. Based on the goings-on at the bachelor parties of my clients over the years, I had every reason to feel jealous.
But no real right, I reminded myself.
True to her declaration, Clara had disappeared two minutes after the taller of the dancers left to take a breather and still hadn’t returned. Then Kevin showed up, completely sober, after he managed to sneak away from Blake’s bachelor party.
I dropped my head on his shoulder as soon as he sat down on the couch beside me. “I know you’re just here because my entertainment is more to your liking than Blake’s, but I’m going to pretend you’re here for me.”
He grinned, his gaze locked on the thrusting groin of the remaining dancer as Michelle tried to hook the man’s G-string.
Kevin shook his head. “Nah, no entertainment at his party. Just whiskey, cigars and poker.”
To say I was relieved was an understatement. “Well, that explains why you left their party already.” Kevin didn’t exactly have a poker face, and he sucked at bluffing. “Did you end up losing your underwear?”
“Not yet.” He waggled his brows. “But the night is young.”
Laughing, I gave him a hug, truly glad he was here this weekend. Even though he didn’t know the entire situation, just having him with me was going to help me get through it.
Leaning over, he planted a quick kiss on my cheek. “By the way, congratulations, P.J. It’s clear Blake is absolutely crazy about you.”
That made my smile dissolve in a flash.
Thankfully, the remaining stripper and Kevin began hitting it off so I could slip away undetected. Stepping onto the patio alone, I closed the door behind me and moved away from the light.
Not wanting to stumble on Clara and her new friend making out in the dark, I listened for a few seconds for any sounds before I skirted the manicured lawn and headed toward the private beach.
Less than fifty feet from the patio, I realized someone was leaning against a palm tree and watching me.
Blake.
He was both the last and the only person I wanted to see at that moment.
I approached him, stopping a few feet short of the tree he leaned against, not sure what to say. What exactly does one say to their fake fiancé the night before their very real wedding?
Apparently, words weren’t what he was thinking about. Reaching out, he yanked me to him, his grip unyielding as his lips crashed into mine.
It was the most unbridled kiss we’d shared yet, and I was seconds away from losing it completely.
Half a minute passed before he let me surface for air.
The moment he did, I backed away from him, desperately needing a little distance, my jumbled emotions fighting against the sudden need I had to peel my dress off and feel his skin against mine. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
Instead of answering, he shot back his own question. “What’s he doing here? I saw him leave my party and just knew he was heading here to see you.”
His grip as unyielding as his voice, he pulled me into another kiss, pressing his body flush against mine while his tongue thrusted into my mouth, his entire body possessing mine in little and large ways.
One quick spin and Blake had me pinned against the tree. A hard tug came next and the skirt of my dress was up over my hips, his big hands wrapping around my ass to cinch me against him, lock his hard erection at my core.
“He can’t have you. You’re mine, Pippa.”
The raw emotions throbbing in his voice took away what little breath he’d left in my lungs. Before I could ask him what was wrong, he kissed me again, offering no more answers, but a whole lot of clarity on his current state as he pillaged my mouth. “Mine forever after tomorrow, mine tonight if y—”
“Not forever,” I cut in, to remind him, remind myself. “Just until Anna’s lawsuit is over.”
That was the cold, hard truth, as much as I wished it otherwise. And I needed to keep hammering that fact in my head if I wanted to keep some tattered remains of my heart intact.
“Damn it, P.J., I don’t give a fuck about Anna’s suit.”
Twisting away, I pulled my dress back down over my hips. Pretending was one thing, outright lying was another.
He wouldn’t have me tonight or any night other than tomorrow. We’d ‘consummate’ our marriage once per the agreement I’d signed, and then I was putting the brakes on the charade. There would be a few controlled interviews with the press, a few public sightings—also carefully controlled. But no more nights in bed together.
And I told him as much.
“Pippa!” He reached for me, but I managed to outmaneuver him.
I put my hand up, stopping him. “No. Don’t follow me. We both know I’m not strong enough to resist you. And if you seduce me into bed tonight, I can guarantee you I won’t show up at the ceremony tomorrow.”
Folding his arms across his chest, he glared at me. “You’d break the contract?”
“Would you let me?” I countered.
I wasn’t asking for the sake of argument. I needed out of the deal.
Though I had no idea how I would come up with even a small fraction of what it would cost to repay Blake for all he’d done for me already, if we ended things here and now, I would figure out a way. If it would stop this arrangement from takin
g us all the way down the aisle, I’d conjure up a miracle from sheer will alone.
Flimsy as that plan was, it was the only one I had.
I gazed up at him, determined…damn near obstinate, really.
He stared me down, just as stubbornly.
And therein was my mistake—thinking that he wasn’t quite as mulish as I was.
He was more.
Much, much more.
“No,” he finally replied. “I won’t let you walk away from the agreement.”
“Why not?” I asked on a trembling whisper. “There’s still time—”
His voice gentled, as did his gaze. I still couldn’t read his thoughts, but I could see the sincerity behind his words. “Everything will be okay, P.J. You’ll see.”
“No, Blake. It won’t.” With the sand sucking at my sandals, I tried to turn, but Blake caught me before I could make my escape.
Shaking in his arms, I curled in on myself, tried to make my body small enough to slip away. It didn’t work. I was too big, too awkward. “It just won’t work. Us. Together. An agreement may work for some people, but not for me. When…if…I got married, I always thought it would be with…”
Someone who loved me as much as I loved him.
I couldn’t say the words out loud without making him feel bad. He’d done so much for me already. More than I could repay him for, to be honest.
I owed him so much…but there was only so much I had left to give.
His grip loosened at my unfinished sentence, but not enough that I could free myself. His arms tightened gently around me again when I tried. “Whoever it was you’ve fantasized about marrying, I’ll do everything in my power to make you forget about him.” His lips edged my jaw, tracking up when he reached my chin to whisper across my mouth. “Baby, those rides in the limo, that first night at the penthouse, in the elevator—you couldn’t fake any of that. That wasn’t pretend. That was real for you; you and I both know it. Just give this a chance, love.”
