Double Dare: A Fake Fiancee MMF Romance

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Double Dare: A Fake Fiancee MMF Romance Page 10

by Cassandra Dee


  “You sure you want to buy all this?” I asked doubtfully. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

  Mason snorted.

  “Baby you’re engaged to me. Any fiancée of mine deserves a full wardrobe, plus all the accessories,” he said.

  Derek nodded his agreement.

  “That’s right,” he growled. “And speaking of which, we still need to shop for your most important accessory.”

  My breath caught because I knew what they were talking about. After a month together, I still didn’t have that traditional symbol of belonging – a diamond ring. But for some reason, it didn’t feel totally right.

  “Oh, no need,” I waved my hand airily. “Diamonds are traditional, and we know this isn’t exactly a traditional thing. I mean, there’s three of us, right?” I joked. “And you two love each other, but I don’t see you exchanging diamonds with one another.”

  Derek and Mason exchanged a long look. What did that mean? Sometimes I hated it. Sometimes I hated how they knew each other so well, they’ve been buddies for twenty years before I joined the picture. But I pushed on ahead.

  “What? What is it? Are you guys going to exchange rings?” I asked, dumfounded. “This is all a fake marriage, remember, there’s not going to be an actual wedding down the line.”

  I thought that Mason was going to say something, but Derek spoke first.

  “No, of course there isn’t going to be a ceremony,” he rumbled. “But we need you to have a ring anyways,” he said. “It wouldn’t look right, tradition or not,” he said with a warning look, and my mouth snapped shut. Fine. I could live with a diamond on my finger, I’d just give it back after this farce came out.

  But when the jeweler stepped into the dressing room, that took me by shock.

  “I thought we had to go to a jewelry store,” I stammered, looking on in confusion as he pulled out some velvet lined boxes. “What’s going on? Don’t we go to Zales or something?”

  Mason chuckled low in his chest.

  “Naw honey, haven’t you learned? When you’re a corporate titan, the professionals come to you. No need to go to an office, they’ll call on you, making life easier that way.”

  I paused, thinking back. That was true. Now that I thought of it, Major Enterprises’s attorney had dropped by the apartment the other day to discuss some business with Mason and Derek. And when they’d put me on the pill, their personal doctor had visited us at home, taking all sorts of samples in the privacy of my room. Of course I wasn’t actually swallowing the pill, I was privately flushing the small capsules down the toilet each day, making it look like I was on the regimen. But still, my lovers didn’t have to know, it was my secret.

  So taking a deep breath, I nodded a greeting to the jeweler.

  “Hello,” I said bravely, sticking my hand out. “I’m Katie, nice to meet you.”

  The kindly middle-aged man nodded but declined to shake.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am, but I’ve got gloves on to handle the goods. And I know who you are already,” he said with a wink. “You’re Mr. Major’s fiancée, the one who snagged the most eligible bachelor in New York City.”

  I colored because that wasn’t right. I was an imposter, a girl brought in to do a job, but it was all fake. I was here to make them think that we were going to have a baby, that Mason was going to be a family man, ready for responsibilities, but in fact, it was all a lie. Swallowing tears, I smiled brightly, eyes a little glassy.

  “Right, that’s me,” I chirped, trying to look normal. “That’s me.”

  The jeweler was too busy looking through his wares to notice.

  “Wonderful,” he murmured before pulling something out. “Here it is!” he exclaimed. “Here’s the canary yellow diamond I was telling you about, sirs.”

  Mason and Derek pulled up chairs on either side of me. It was strangely sexy, their big forms looming on each side, male walls of energy as they stared at the jewels.

  “Looks okay,” offered Derek.

  “Naw, I don’t like yellow,” grunted Mason. “Something bigger would be better.”

  I looked at them both with astonishment. The diamond was huge, at least five carats, glimmering under the light.

  “No, this is too big already,” I said, shaking my head. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to wear another fake symbol of our impending union, the pretend was getting to me. “No,” I said again, turning my head away.

  The jeweler frowned.

  “Sirs, Madame, I can see that one wasn’t to your taste. How about this one?” he asked, pulling another ring out like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. “Just as beautiful, seven carats, a pink diamond just like Jennifer Lopez,” he persuaded.

  This one seemed to go over better.

  “Yeah, this one looks nice against Katie’s skin,” murmured Mason appreciatively.

  “Try it on,” encouraged Derek, taking my hand. “Let her try it on.”

  But I pulled my hand back. I didn’t want to wear their diamond, it was like we were actors on stage, and I had lines to recite but suddenly the words were choking me. I wasn’t sure what was wrong. It was a dream come true being with these men, the way they spoiled me, doted on me, bought me everything I wanted. But still this was fake, and I couldn’t take it. So I tried to joke my way out.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t do a pink diamond,” I smiled weakly. “Jennifer Lopez never got married to her fiancé, from what I remember. He married someone else.”

  I was referring to J. Lo’s brief engagement to Ben Affleck, which lasted about two months. But it didn’t make an impression on either Mason or Derek.

  “Who?” asked Derek, brows lowered. “Is that some celebrity?”

  Mason just grunted.

  “We don’t give a fuck what happened to another girl and her engagement. What does that have to do with us? Try it on,” he encouraged. “It’ll look beautiful on you.”

  But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

  “No, how about something else?” I said quickly. “Or nothing else, no one wears rings these days,” I rushed. “Honestly, the whole diamond engagement thing is the result of some clever advertising from DeBeers, that’s all. It’s not real,” I said, gathering steam. “It’s just good publicity.”

  But that didn’t faze the men at all.

  “Exactly, good publicity,” said Derek, fixing me with a look. “We want the world to know.”

  Mason nodded.

  “There’d be nothing better than you wearing our diamond, baby girl,” he said softly. “We’re engaged, remember honey?”

  And it was those words that did me in. Because this was such a confusing situation. On the one hand, I was their fake fiancée. I was just a girl pulled out of nowhere, even put in chains at first, to satisfy some weird will. But suddenly it seemed so real. Here I was, with the men I adored, as we picked out a ring for me to wear as a marker of their love. Here I was, picking out the most sacred of sacred objects, something that would glint with light, drawing attention to my state.

  And before I could protest again, the jeweler pulled out another ring.

  “Ahh, this one is one of my favorites,” he said in a hushed tone, cupping the ring in gloved hands. “This is one that I only bring out for special situations.”

  I wasn’t sure what to think at first, because we’d been speaking openly in front of the jeweler. He’d witnessed for himself how Derek was very much a part of the relationship, how they referred to me as “their” fiancée.

  But the jeweler, in addition to being intuitive, was probably also discreet. Again, money buys a lot and in this case, I had no doubt that Mason and Derek were purchasing his silence with the gobs of cash they were about to spend. Because the jeweler nodded again discreetly, face bland.

  “This one, Madame. What do you think?” he asked subserviently.

  And I gasped because this diamond was different. Or diamonds, more accurately. There were two diamonds, both giant, gleaming at me from a meta
l band, like twins set flush against one another.

  I gasped before melting.

  “It’s beautiful,” came the whisper from my throat. “Absolutely stunning.”

  The middle-aged man smiled, bobbing his head up and down, turning the ring left and right so that it glinted under the light.

  “We call this one Dual Star,” he praised. “It’s a personal favorite because the two diamonds are just about identical except for color. Same carat, cut, and clarity, although of course, one is a chocolate diamond while the other is your classic bright white. But they play off one another brilliantly, working together to form a beautiful whole.”

  And I almost cried then because what could be better than this ring to describe our relationship? I was bound to two men, two men who were President and CEO, both powerful, dominant and proud. They worked together, their strengths and weaknesses a perfect foil.

  And now, they were bringing me into the fold. The ring represented their commitment to me, to our life together, even if it was only going to last a few more months. One diamond dark, one light, representing the men in my life.

  So I swallowed thickly.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said again. “Absolutely stunning.”

  Mason spoke immediately.

  “We’ll take it,” he growled. “It’s perfect.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Derek, looking at me hotly before his gaze slid to include Mason. “Absolutely perfect.”

  I melted then, helpless and crying inside. Because yes, this ring was flawless, an emblem of everything we had together. But it was also wrong because an engagement ring symbolizes eternity, it symbolizes being together forever, but that was the thing. There was no forever for me. There was no forever, no promises, there would be no marriage certificate, no vows spoken before an officiant. This was all fake, one hundred percent for show.

  And suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore. The enormity of the circumstances, the realization that I was emotionally bound to these men, that somehow I’d become invested, overwhelmed me. I couldn’t stay here, I couldn’t stay with them, pretending anymore. I had to get away. But now wasn’t the time. We were literally sitting in front of a jeweler, staring at a big diamond ring, the bright sparkle like a tear in my eye. I let out a choked chuckle.

  “It’s wonderful,” I managed, pretending I was just clearing my throat. “Thank you, Mason, thank you, Derek.”

  The men smiled, not even realizing that anything was wrong. After all, what woman cries when she’s handed a five figure piece of jewelry? What female wants more, asking for their souls, their hearts, their everythings?

  And that’s the thing. I was an interloper, an imposter, an actress and nothing else. I was here to help carry out their storyline, and once my role was done, I’d be ushered off-stage.

  So I had to leave before it got bad. I couldn’t stay for the final act, I didn’t want to take last bows, even if flowers were thrown at my feet. There was no other choice. I was going to have to find a way out … even if my heart broke in the process.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Katie

  “Oh,” moaned Mason. “Oh god, yeah.”

  Because Mason and Derek were going at it, this time Mason on Derek’s huge shaft, riding the big man like a cowboy as they fucked.

  “Ummph, ummph!” growled Derek. “Harder loverboy, spread your butt, it feels better that way.”

  And Mason did as commanded. He leaned forward until the two men’s mouths pressed together, chest to chest, Derek on the bottom as Mason moved up and down, riding that stiff shaft with his ass.

  “Mmm,” they both grunted. “Mmm, mmm.”

  I watched, mesmerized, because it was hot for sure. I’ve never been into gay sex, but seeing my two male lovers go at it? It was amazing, blowing my mind. There were two thick, hard rods, twice the amount of muscle, double the amount of masculine desire in the air, thick and virile.

  And it’s not like Mason and Derek leave me out. Definitely not, the two men had already pounded me, taking turns in my pussy, both of them spurting loads of cream inside.

  “Oh yeah,” they’d grunted. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, this little puss is so fucked.”

  But the thing about being a trio is that the sex can last longer. Instead of just one man, you’ve got two hungry alpha males, ready to devour and consume. And so after finishing with me, they turned to each other, riding each other’s hard rods, pushing dick into anus again and again.

  “Mmmph,” Derek grunted again. “Lower, sink your butt lower so it’s all the way in.”

  Mason obliged. Both of them are fantastic at anal sex now, they’ve settled into it, and we do it all the time, although admittedly, their dicks are so huge it still takes quite a fair amount of prep.

  But they hadn’t forgotten me, even now, with Derek’s dick halfway up Mason’s butt.

  “Come on pretty lady,” gestured Derek. “Come ride my mouth, let that pussy cream slide down my throat.”

  “Or here,” panted Mason, bouncing up and down the blond’s cock, his ass parted wide. “Come and let me suck your nipples, that’ll feel good. Awww, fuck,” he moaned, head dropping down as Derek reamed him especially hard. “More, more,” he groaned.

  But that was the thing. My two lovers were buried in one another, in the midst of a storm, and this was the perfect time to make a getaway. So I mumbled something, throwing a glance their way.

  “Um, I’m gonna take a shower,” I murmured, rubbing my breasts. “There’s so much sperm on me, maybe I should rinse it off before it cakes.”

  The men stopped, turning towards me.

  “Naw, leave it,” grunted Mason. “I like seeing my baby covered in baby batter.”

  Derek nodded his agreement, even as his ass was pummeled from down below.

  “Stay a little longer,” he commanded. “And I’ll have another load for you in a minute.”

  But he was buried on Mace’s dick at the moment and neither of them were gonna pull off, with climax right around the corner. So I made my getaway.

  “I’ll be right back,” I cooed. “Back in a sec, you won’t even miss me.”

  And before either of them could reply, I scrambled up, naked and voluptuous, my assets swinging this way and that. Lightly stepping, I exited the room before breaking into a run, literally rushing down the stairs and grabbing the bag I’d packed earlier and placed in a closet. Scrambling into some clothes, I rushed out the door before hailing a cab at the curb.

  “Go!” I cried out. “Anywhere!”

  The cabbie swung around to look at me.

  “Are you crazy? I need a destination.”

  I looked back at him, panicked.

  “Just go!” I begged. “I have to get away.”

  The cabbie shook his head, muttering, “Dumbass ladies these days.”

  And I sank bank into the seat as the city rolled past. Because I didn’t have a plan, not exactly. Well, I wanted to get away for sure, but the thing was where? I couldn’t go back to Union Art League, that belonged to Major Enterprises. I couldn’t back to my old job, Mrs. Patterson would report me the minute I showed my face. So I told him the address of the only possible place that Mason and Derek might not now.

  “New Jersey,” I said slowly. “Mayflower Lane, in Newark.”

  The cabbie jerked to look at me again.

  “How do you plan on getting through the Holland Tunnel in traffic like this? Even if it’s midnight, it’s still a parking lot,” he gestured to the parade of cars going past. “I’m gonna have to charge you extra.”

  And I nodded silently, bowing my head. Tears were prickling the back of my eyes, but why? This was what I wanted right?

  I couldn’t handle the farce anymore, the diamond rings, the kind words, the “fiancée-appropriate” wardrobe they’d bought me. I couldn’t stand our dinners out in fancy restaurants, with cameramen on hand, complete with a press release trumpeting Mason’s upcoming wedding. I needed to be real, Katie Jones is a real woman with no artifice,
and I was floundering in the swamp. The water was choking me, and I had to save myself before it got into my lungs, before I could no longer breathe and was dead on arrival.

  So yes, my escape was for self-preservation, and as we entered the tunnel, I looked around. The Holland Tunnel is funny, tiled in white like the inside of a bathroom. But I guess that describes my transition. I was going from the heady, cosmopolitan bustle of NYC and straight into the armpit of the United States. But that’s what I deserved. I’d been living a lie, and gritty or not, at least Newark didn’t hide behind fancy signs and frippery trim. Newark was real, and that’s what I needed now.

  And the apartment on Mayflower Lane was exactly like I remembered. Going in, I saw that it hadn’t changed one bit. Peeling wallpaper, water stains on the ceiling, and the sounds of rats scrabbling in dark corners made my skin crawl.

  But at least they couldn’t find me. Dropping into a seat at the saggy dining room table, I put my head in hands, exhausted. But it didn’t stop then. Images of Mason and Derek whirled before my closed eyes, tempting me, taunting me, and I almost screamed. These were the people I was trying to get away from, the lovers who had driven me away! Why were they haunting me now?

  And I couldn’t do it anymore. Internal barriers broke, like the Hoover Dam collapsing, and I cried then, the pain in my heart accented by a flood of tears. I sobbed for the dagger in my heart, the confusion and doubts swirling in my head, everything that had gone right and then oh so wrong. Because why couldn’t I pretend? Why couldn’t I just give them what they wanted and be the fake Mrs. Major? But the answer was clear. It was because I was in love with Mason and Derek, and only something real was going to do now. Only something real could make me happy, content, bringing the spring back into my step. But unfortunately, there was nothing real about our engagement … and that was never going to change.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Derek

  “Are you serious?” I roared. “What the fuck?”

  Mason shrugged, although his expression was grim.

 

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