“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.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had some doubts lately about the bachelor life. Seeing how happy Vincent and Madeline have been, plus hearing about Griffin and El getting engaged with a baby on the way makes me wonder if that’s a happiness I could ever have. Where I get fucked up though is wondering if the risk is worth the reward: about the time I fall in love, she’ll probably use me for my money or get pregnant and end up resenting me.
I’m shaken from my thoughts when Jake pulls up in the golf cart. “Mornin’, Mr. Styles,” he says with a drawl.
“Morning, Jake.” We speed off toward the main house and jump in Wayne’s blue Ford F-350.
I know how important the Smithfield account is to my firm, and as much I’m trying to remain engaged during the meetings and tours, my mind keeps wandering back to Samantha. I want to send her a message to see how she’s doing. I fidget with my phone in my pocket over and over, trying to summon the courage to text her.
What would I even say? Just ask her how she’s doing and how her day is going, I tell myself. Weirdly, the words “I miss you” pop into my brain for a brief moment. I ignore the temptation and focus my attention back on the conversation at hand.
As we wrap up our day and prepare to head back to the house, I excuse myself to the restroom and pull out my phone to text her.
Hey, we’re heading back to the house soon for dinner. Wayne said two of his sons will be there tonight and we’ll be having a cookout. We have some time to rest and get ready though, so no rush.
I can see three dots appear after I send the text, signaling she’s responding.
Hey! Thanks for the heads-up. I just got back to the guest house after spending the day with Helen. I’m going to take a quick shower and give El a call. Kind of weird not being with you today. See you soon!
Her message is sincere and genuine; why can’t I be that way with her? Why can’t I just tell her that I missed hanging out with her today? I type out that I missed hanging out with her and my thumb hovers over the SEND button, but instead, I erase the message and type out something more my style—something that won’t confuse her about our relationship.
Mmm, you in the shower, huh? Get that body nice and clean for daddy, though I’m just going to make sure you’re filthy again as soon as I walk in that door. I hope you’re ready to return the favor from this morning, because I’ve been dying to see those plump lips of yours wrapped around my thick cock.
As much as I hated myself for sending that message, I can’t deny I’m loving the consequences. Looking down and seeing Samantha on her knees in her bra and panties waiting to take me in her mouth is a fucking fantasy. She brings out such confusing feelings in me. I want to mark her, to use her, and to make her mine while caring for her and seeing to her needs. A deep groan escapes my lips as she takes me into the back of her throat. I’m so screwed. I look down at her big blue eyes and tell her exactly how she makes me feel. I can’t hold back the filthy things that come to my mind when I look at her.
“That’s right, sweetheart, suck that cock like you mean it. Make me cum down your throat. Mmm, let me give you dessert before we even get to dinner, baby.”
Chapter Thirteen
Samantha
“I’ll have a bratwurst, please,” I say to Wayne as he asks me what I’ll have from the grill. The evening has been pleasant. Wayne’s sons, Richard and Thomas, have come by with their families and we’ve been hearing funny stories about their childhood. I glance over at Cam as he makes small talk with Helen about her grandkids. She’s flipping through about fifty photos and he’s smiling along with her and asking questions. It’s cute to see him so engaged and somewhat disarmed in a casual setting. He looks up and catches me staring, shooting me a small wink. Those damn butterflies are back in my stomach.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and pull it out to see Dr. McSexy’s name on the caller ID. “Shit,” I say to myself. I casually excuse myself and step into the house to take the call. I can see Cameron’s eyes on me as I walk away from the crowd.
“Hello?” I say in a half-whisper.
“Hey Samantha! It—It’s Kenneth…from work? Dr. Ken?”
“Hey, Dr. Ken, how’s it going?” I glance over my shoulder to make sure no one can hear me.
“Well, I haven’t seen you at work lately and I know we never got a chance to catch up after our failed er…uh…get-together?” It’s a little cute that he’s stumbling over what to call it.
“Yeah, so sorry. I actually took some time off. Just a few days. I’m in Georgia for a bit of an unexpected thing, but I’ll be back to work on Saturday.” I feel like shit lying to the man. I really do like him; he’s one of the good ones. He’s the kind you can count on—the marrying kind.
“Oh, my bad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your vacation. I guess I’ll see you Saturday and we can talk about that…date?” His inflection goes up as if he’s hopeful. I can’t help but giggle a little.
“Yes, that sounds great. Sorry I just kind of fell off the face of the earth after canceling on you last week. I look forward to seeing you and talking about our date.” I make sure to emphasize the last word so he isn’t confused. I hang up with a big grin on my face and turn around to see Cameron leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest.
“Who’s Dr. Ken?” His face is stoic, giving away no emotion.
“Oh, uh, he’s a cowork—a friend. He’s a coworker and a friend.”
“Sounds like more than a friend if you’re going on a date,” he says, his voice a bit more stern.
I suddenly feel a little annoyed and defensive. “Well, then I guess he’s more than a friend.” I shrug as I make my way toward the door. Before I can get too far, Cameron puts his hand around my elbow and pushes me up against the wall, pinning me against it with his hard body. His lips are on mine and his tongue thrusts into my mouth with conviction over and over, and I can’t help but feel he’s marking his territory.
As quickly as he pushed me against the wall, he pulls away, leaving me breathless. “While you work for me, you’re mine, understand?” His eyes are narrowed on mine. At first I think he’s joking, but his jaw is clenched and fixed.
“I’m not your property, Cameron, and the contract says nothing about me not dating during this period.” I hush my tone, remembering where we are and that people are just outside.
“We’ll discuss this later. Just don’t forget whose cock you had in your mouth half an hour ago,” he says before walking out, leaving me standing alone as tears prick my eyes.
His words sting. This is the first time I’ve felt like I’m just a contract to him, but it’s the snap back to reality that I needed. I can’t help but feel a little sick to my stomach when I realize there’s some truth to his words. It was barely thirty minutes ago that I was on my knees in front of Cameron, getting off on the naughty things he was saying to me while I pleasured him, and now I’m on the phone with a guy I actually have a chance with, trying to schedule a date.
I step into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face before re-emerging at the cookout. “You all right, dear? Cameron said you weren’t feeling like yourself this evening.” I smile as Helen wraps her arm around my shou
lder.
“Thank you, Helen. Yes, I’m okay. He’s just overreacting. I had a bit of a headache, but now I’m starving!”
I grab my plate and head over to the grill to grab my bratwurst and a beer. Everyone falls back into their cadence of conversation and I make sure to have intense eye contact with Cameron as I pick up the bratwurst with my fork and take a massive and aggressive bite out of it. I laugh to myself as I see him wince at the sight of me destroying a phallic object.
That’ll teach you to tell me what I can do! I mutter under my breath as I finish up my dinner and join everyone else for a cold beer and laughter. As much as I want to slap the smug grin off of his face, I know I still need to put on a good show for the Smithfields, so I walk over and stand next to Cameron.
Without hesitation, he uncrosses his legs and pulls me onto his lap. As much as there was tension between us a few moments ago, it almost seems natural to be so intimate with him. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my mouth toward his for a quick, soft kiss.
I can’t help but notice the look of shock in his eyes when he registers the whistles coming from Mr. Smithfield and his sons. I’m pretty sure he completely forgot where we were and his instinct to pull me in for a kiss was completely involuntary.
I blush as I look around and see their smiles and laughter, “Oh, to be young and in love!” Helen says as she leans into her husband’s side. I pull myself from Cameron’s lap, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Smithfield, we’ve had a lovely evening, but I think we’ll be heading back to the guest house.” We say our goodbyes to the entire family and decide to walk back to the guest house instead of taking the golf cart. Cameron is still holding my hand, but a heaviness hangs between us.
Neither of us wants to be the first to speak, and I can tell we have some unfinished business to discuss. I look up at the clear night sky and sigh. As much as I’ve been enjoying my time here—and let’s be honest, the white-hot sex hasn’t been bad either—I’ve missed home. We’ll be leaving tomorrow evening, and I’m ready to get back to Cocoa and my routine.
“What are you thinking about?” Cameron’s deep voice breaks my train of thought.
“Oh, just thinking about home…and Cocoa. I’ve never been away from her for this long.” He snickers and I jab him in the side. “Hey, she’s my baby!” The silence falls back between us and the tension seems twice as thick.
I can’t tell if it’s anger or frustration or both. We finally reach the guest house and step onto the front porch. I can’t take the weirdness any longer and I open my mouth to apologize just as he pulls me against him for a kiss.
This was the last thing I expected, but then I realize that this is how he deals with problems—with sex. It’s no wonder he’s never had a serious relationship, given that he masks his problems with temporary pleasure.
I push him away, “No, I want to apolo—” But before I can finish the sentence, he’s back to thrusting his tongue in my mouth. I attempt to push myself away again, but give in for just a moment as my body melts into his. I can feel his hardness pressing against my stomach as he snakes his fingers through my hair and tugs my head back to look in his eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says before devouring my mouth again.
“What do you want?” I say breathlessly between kisses.
He grabs a thigh with each hand and lifts me to wrap my legs around his waist. He opens the front door and walks us inside, never breaking our kiss.
“You. Now.”
I can’t sleep. I lie staring at the ceiling as Cameron snores softly beside me. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I know it’s not going to end well. In his defense, he was very clear about no expectations. In his words, this is “just fucking.” But I know he can feel what’s happening between us.
A pit forms in my stomach as Dr. Ken’s face appears in my mind. I feel a sense of guilt and I don’t know why. I’m not dating him—we’ve never even been out together—but I feel like I’m somehow cheating on him with Cameron. I continue to toss and turn. The bottom line is I can’t continue on with Cam this way. It’s only going to end in heartache. My heartache.
I grip the armrest of the plane seat as we prepare for our descent back into Chicago. The day has been a bit gloomy. Cameron had a few final meetings with Wayne at his office, and Helen had some things to attend to, so I spent the morning on my own. Things are definitely still off between us. I figure I’ll give it some time and maybe it will pass on its own.
We continue in silence on the way home, after which Cameron leaves me while he returns to his office in the city to get caught up on what he missed while he was away.
It’s Friday night and as exhausted as I am, I can’t stand the thought of sulking at Cam’s home alone. “Should I call him?” I ask Cocoa, causing her to raise her sleepy head and blink at me.
“I’m going to call him. It’s Friday night; what have I got to lose?” I jump off the bed and pace back and forth as I pull up Dr. Ken’s name. It’s only 6:30 p.m., so there’s an off-chance I could catch him and grab a drink or a late dinner. I hesitate over the green CALLl button for half a second before pushing it.
“Oh my God, it’s ringing!” I say, as if I’m actually surprised.
“Hello, Samantha!” It’s Ken. I panic. I wasn’t actually expecting him to pick up.
“Hey!” I almost shout, my voice sounding squeaky and unnatural. I clear my throat and take a deep breath.
“Hey, sorry I’m calling so unexpectedly, but I thought I’d take a chance and see if you’re available for a drink or late dinner?” My hands are flailing about wildly as I speak, like that will somehow calm me down.
“Actually, yeah, that would be great. I was just about to order pizza and watch Netflix. So, thank you. You rescued me from another lonely night of The Office.”
I laugh, “I love that show; you can never watch too many reruns.”
“So, where do you live? How about I pick you up in about an hour?” Suddenly realizing my living arrangement and not jumping at the chance to start a first date with that story, I suggest we meet at this great wine bar in Lakeview East.
“Sounds like a plan then. You sure you don’t want me to pick you up? I feel like that’s the proper move here.”
I insist it’s okay and we agree to meet at 7:30, which leaves me barely enough time to hop in the shower and wash the airport gunk off my body.
I look myself over in the floor-length mirror of the closet. It’s still cold here in Chicago, so I opt for my favorite skinny jeans and an off-the-shoulder pink and white top. My long hair falls in loose curls and I pull on a pair of over-the-knee heeled boots.
“Shit!” What should I tell Cameron? Should I leave him a note? Text him? I check the time and see that I barely have fifteen minutes to get to the bar. I quickly call an Uber and scribble a note for him.
Went out with a friend. Will be back later.
I walk into the bar, and Ken is already sitting at a small booth in the corner. He stands when I arrive and gives me a small peck on the cheek as he touches my elbow. His cologne is pleasant and soft. His thick blond waves are brushed back, and his blue eyes are piercing as they stare back at me.
He isn’t the type to look me up and down like Cameron—like he wants to devour me. Ken is a gentleman: one of those all-American, guy-next-door types you know will do the right thing and treat you with respect.
The night is going well. We’ve shared some laughs about work and exchanged horrific tales about working in the medical world. He didn’t pry about my trip to Georgia and I wasn’t about to offer up any details.
I want to want him like I did before. Before Cameron. I keep staring at his chiseled jaw and his broad chest. He is a tasty dish by all accounts, but I can’t help but compare him to Cameron. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m sitting at dinner with a gorgeous man who is everything I should want, and all I can think about is the douchebag of an asshole wh
o only wants me for my body and says the filthiest things to me.
I quickly squeeze my thighs together when I think about our last night together, and the way Cam bent me over the end of the bed and used my arms for leverage to pull me back onto his cock over and over until we were both screaming in pleasure.
I feel sick to my stomach. I can’t do this to Ken. He’s a good guy—a guy who deserves better than someone who is hung up on someone else.
We finish up our dinner and wine and make our way outside. “So, do you want to go grab a drink somewhere else, or share a great bottle of aged port I have at my place?”
“I’m sorry, but not tonight. I had a great time though, and I’m sorry it was such a shit show just trying to go out.” I pull out my phone and call an Uber.
“No worries at all. Thanks again for agreeing to go out. I had a great time. I really hope we can do this again sometime?” He leaves it as a question.
I don’t know what’s going to happen, so I smile and give a small nod. “Have a good night. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
On the way home, I decide I want to be honest with Cameron. I want to tell him that while I was on the date, all I could think about was him—that I crave his touch, and that I miss him when we’re apart. I’m not ready to tell him I have feelings for him, but I want him to know that I’m open to the possibility of something between us.
The butterflies start dancing in my stomach as I get closer to his house. I’m nervous and excited. A big smile spreads across my face as I thank the Uber driver and make my way inside. Tingles build as I bound into the house and anxiously walk into the kitchen. The lights are on but I don’t see Cameron anywhere.
Fake It: A Fake Fiancée Romance Page 10
