“Oh, this old thing?” I laugh, posing for them. They laugh and Nina lifts her glass. It’s only been an hour with them, and my cheeks hurt from laughing already.
I hadn’t realized how isolated I’d been with Elijah. I had to check in with him so often that sometimes it just seemed easier to not go out. We’d get in huge fights if I went out or if I wanted to have a ‘girl’s night’, even though he’d be out until all hours multiple days a week.
It wasn’t fair, but I didn’t have the energy to fight back. He wore me down.
But now?
Now I can do whatever the heck I want.
It’s scary and exhilarating. Rachael hooks her arm into mine and winks at me.
“So,” she says. “Tonight we’re going to prison.”
“What?”
They all laugh. “I’m kidding. We’re going to a renovated prison! It’s this ah-mazing hotel-slash-club. It has like, mug shots of celebrities and bars on the windows and everything. You’re going to love it.”
“Okay,” I grin. “Not something I would choose, but I trust you.”
“I figure it’s like a nod to your old life. You were trapped before. In prison. And now you’re free! It’s like a big ‘fuck you’ to the old you.”
Rachael lifts her eyebrows, waiting for my reaction. I chuckle.
“Fuck you to the old me, hey?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She claps her hands and ushers us all out of the hotel room. I double check Moose’s water and food bowls, and then I close the door behind me. We pile into a cab and head for the club. Rachael leans her head on my shoulder.
“It’s good to have you back, Farrah. You weren’t yourself with him.”
“It’s good to be back.”
She smiles at me, and my heart lifts. I know this is the right decision. It hurts, and it’s raw, but at the end of the day, I know it had to be done.
14
Jesse
By the time the interviews are over on Friday, dusk is starting to settle over the city. Jordan and I head to the team’s official celebration party at a club called Alibi. The venue is a renovated jail, and it’s the hip place to be these days. As soon as I walk in, I’m ushered to the VIP area and handed a glass of champagne. Coach Williams claps me on the shoulder as a welcome.
“Here’s the hero!” He shouts over the music. His nose is red and his eyes are glassy, and I wonder how many champagnes he’s had. I grin.
“Don’t think I’m a hero, coach. You’re the one who led us here.”
“Your words,” he grins. I walk to a set of couches and sit down next to Rigley. He’s chowing down on a huge plate of wings. He nods to me.
“Hot wing?”
“Sure.”
I settle back in the couch. From here, I have a perfect vantage of the club. We’re on a little dais, with a red velvet rope separating us from the general public. All eyes are on us, and more than a few people try to get into the VIP area. A huge bouncer stands at the entrance, but with an entire NFL football team in the enclosure, he looks almost tiny.
The vibe in here is unreal. Everyone is drinking and celebrating on both sides of the velvet rope. The entire city has exploded and is partying with us. It’s like winning the Super Bowl has made the whole city come together.
I look at the crowd, searching the faces one by one. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for. Someone I recognize, maybe? A distraction? A girl?
I toss the chicken bone on the plate and grab another wing. The food seems more interesting than girls right now. Jordan appears with a bottle of champagne and tops up my glass.
“Lighten up, man,” he laughs. “We just won the fucking Super Bowl! We beat that prick brother of yours!”
I grin. “Yeah,” I say. “We did.”
My eyes drift over the crowd again, when I do a double-take. I squint, sitting up a bit taller as if the couple extra inches of height will help me see across a crowded dance floor with flashing lights.
It couldn’t be her.
What would she be doing here?
A strobe light goes across the crowd and my heart jumps.
Farrah.
She’s laughing with a couple other girls. No, she’s not laughing. She’s beaming. She’s carrying herself differently than when I saw her at the cabin. She’s exuding confidence, and it’s hot.
Suddenly, I’m standing. Rigley raises an eyebrow at me and I look back at Farrah. The spotlight is gone from her, and I’ve lost her in the crowd. My heart rate speeds up, and then I see her again. I drop my half-eaten wing on the plate and grab a napkin to wipe my hands.
My feet move before I can tell them to stop. The crowd of people in the club are parting around me as I make a bee-line toward her. She’s got her back to me, and it’s not until her friends nods to me that she turns around. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops.
Farrah’s cheeks blush. My cock throbs. The music thumps.
My mouth is suddenly dry, and I can feel the perspiration gathering under my arms. Have I always been this sweaty?
I lean down to her ear, not sure what I’m going to say. Now that she’s here, in front of me, words escape me.
She’s staring at me with those big doe eyes of hers and all I want to do is pull her to me and kiss her hard. Instead, I swallow.
“Hey,” I shout over the music.
“Hey,” she replies. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Her blush deepens. She glances back at her friends, who are watching us intently. “I got a job here. In Boston. Good timing, I guess.”
“Yeah. Sorry about all that. You know, Elijah.”
Sorry about all that? I wish I could put my foot in my mouth. I’m usually great with women! Why is it so hard to talk to this one?
“You want to come back to the VIP area? You and your friends, I mean. We have alcohol.”
She bites her lip.
“Yes,” her friend replies instantly. She glances at Farrah and laughs. Farrah blushes, and I wonder what silent conversation they’re having.
I thread my fingers in hers as an electric shock travels up my arm. I head back to the VIP area with four women in tow. Jordan raises an eyebrow at me and I ignore him. I lean against the bar. Farrah does the same.
The music is a bit quieter back here, so I can actually hear her speaking.
“You want a drink?”
“No thanks,” she smiles. “Maybe just water?”
“Oh right. Sorry,” I say. “I forgot you don’t drink.”
“It’s okay. Don’t let me stop you. You’re celebrating.”
God, her smile is gorgeous. My mouth is parched, and my thoughts are jumbled. My eyes drift down to that little black dress that makes my cock throb. I glance at her lips, and then meet her eye. I turn to the bartender and order myself a drink, and two bottles of water. Then I take a deep breath and find the courage to turn back to her.
“You said you got a job here?
“I applied for it when I was still… when Elijah and I were still…” She takes a deep breath. “I applied for it a while ago. I didn’t think I’d get it. He didn’t want me to work.”
“He didn’t want you to work?” I frown. My brother? Why wouldn’t he want his girlfriend to work?
“Yeah.”
“That’s weird.”
Farrah laughs. “Yeah.”
“Are you… okay?” Smooth. Maybe I’d be smoother if my cock wasn’t throbbing every two seconds. It’s practically dancing to the beat of the music. Farrah looks up at me and nods.
“Yeah.” She wraps those perfect pink lips around the opening of her bottle of water. My cock is getting harder by the second and my pants are uncomfortably tight. I close my eyes for a second, turning to the bar. She mimics my movement, leaning her elbows against the smooth countertop. I steal a glance at her figure and take a deep breath.
Elijah is a fucking idiot. This woman is perf
ect.
And she’s completely off-limits.
My body doesn’t seem to understand that, though. I feel like every nerve ending in my body is screaming right now. It’s like a magnetic force is pulling me toward her. I want to taste her, smell her, to be completely and totally immersed in her. I take another sip of my drink.
“You like Boston so far?”
Farrah ignores my question. She turns to me and tilts her head to the side, frowning.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What?”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” She repeats. “What’s your angle? Are you trying to get me to get back together with your brother?”
I have to laugh at that. It just tumbles out of me before I can stop myself. I throw my head back and laugh until my shoulders shake and my eyes start to tear up. I shake my head and take another sip of my drink.
“No,” I finally say. “I’m not trying to get you back together with my brother. That’s the last thing I’d want.”
Her eyebrows draw together ever so slightly, and she watches me.
Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the Super Bowl. Maybe it’s the VIP area, or the loud music. Maybe it’s just the fact that the woman I’ve been dreaming about is finally standing right in front of me.
My hand drifts to her side, and I sink my fingers into her hip. She shivers and leans into me, staring up at me through her thick, long lashes.
“You’re way too good for him,” I growl.
She takes a step toward me and rests her bottle of water against her perfect lips. The corners of her lips twitch upwards and she tilts her head to the side.
“I know,” she purrs.
15
Farrah
What is going on? What is wrong with me? Am I really flirting with my ex-fiancé’s brother?
Hell, it’s not just flirting. This is thick. It’s heavy. If he leaned down and kissed me right now, I’m pretty sure I’d need a ‘wet floor’ sign because I am turned-the-fuck on.
His hand on my hip is doing crazy things to my body. His fingers sink into me a little bit more, and my knees feel weak. The way he smells is making my head spin. I still remember the way he looked without a shirt on, with that angry white scar carved across his chiseled chest and water droplets falling down his rippling muscles.
My hand drifts up to the area on his chest where his scar must be. He watches my hand run over his shirt and I hear—no, I feel him growl. His heart is beating just under my hand, and it’s racing as fast as mine is.
God, he’s sexy.
This is so wrong.
What am I doing? I literally just broke up with Jesse’s brother. I got my heart shattered! And now I’m standing here, chest to chest, fantasizing about crushing my lips against Jesse’s?!
So, so wrong.
“What are we doing?” I say, tilting my chin up to him. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. If Elijah knew…”
“He’d be furious.” A smirk floats over Jesse’s lips, and the heat between my legs grows hotter. His hand squeezes my hip. I press my thighs together as my cheeks burn.
Why is that so hot?
It would be hate-sex. I know it would. If I slept with Jesse, it would be me trying to get revenge on Elijah. Maybe that’s why I’m more turned on than I have been in years.
Right?
I mean that, and the fact that Jesse’s body looks like Michelangelo himself carved it from marble. His eyes pierce through me like a dagger. I take a deep breath, but instead of calming me down it only makes my knees weaker. He smells like sex and danger.
Jesse’s hand drifts up my side and rests on my waist. He squeezes it gently and a current of electricity goes through me. I wonder if Rachael is watching this happen right now.
Probably.
I don’t care.
Jesse puts his drink down on the bar and then gently takes mine out of my hand. His hand floats to my jaw, and he tilts my chin up.
I’m like a doll in his hands. He’s turned me to putty. He can do whatever he wants right now, and I would melt into him.
This doesn’t feel like a hate-fuck. It feels like the very opposite of a hate-fuck. Elijah doesn’t even register on my radar right now. Getting back at my ex has nothing to do with what’s happening to my body right now.
But Jesse just looks at me, and it sends a shiver running down my spine. I take a deep breath and gain some sort of control over my body.
“I’m not going to sleep with you,” I say as confidently as I can manage. I’m not sure if it’s true, but it needs to be said.
Jesse smiles, sliding one hand around to my lower back.
“That’s okay,” he growls. “You don’t have to sleep with me.”
“So what are you doing?”
“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do ever since the first day I laid eyes on you,” he growls. He pulls me closer, pressing my chest against his.
I feel his hardness against my stomach, and I gasp. His other hand brushes along my jaw as he runs his thumb over my lip. I part my lips, closing my eyes as he touches me.
It’s electrifying.
I don’t care who sees. I don’t care where I am, or who he is. The way he’s touching me is making my whole body thrum with desire. My nipples are hard as rock as I press them against his muscular chest. I curl my fingers into his shirt as my breath gets shorter.
His thumb brushes along my cheek until his fingers slide around the nape of my neck.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me with his deep, steel-grey eyes. Flecks of blue shine in his irises and I watch his pupils dilate with desire. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and another wave of heat washes through me.
“I want to kiss you, Farrah,” he growls.
“Yeah?”
His chest rumbles, and my panties soak through.
“Yes. But I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I can feel the tension in his body. He’s coiled tight. His body is rigid and strong against me. His hands are powerful as they pull me into him.
And yet, he’s gentle. He’s asking for permission. He’s letting me decide.
That’s something Elijah never did.
I uncurl my fingers and run them up his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck. I press my chest into his, gasping as I feel his length throb against me.
“I want you to kiss me,” I say, breathless. I want him to do a lot more than just kiss me.
His eyes flash. His grip on my neck tightens, and he crushes his lips against mine.
My heart explodes. My body is on fire. I wrap my arms around his neck as he pulls me into him. Vaguely, I hear whoops and hollers around us, but nothing matters.
Nothing matters except his lips against mine. His hand drifts down to the cleft of my ass and I roll my hips into him. My head is spinning.
Somewhere, in the depths of my consciousness, I know I shouldn’t be doing this. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s exactly the opposite of what the responsible thing to do is.
But I don’t care.
After three years under Elijah’s thumb, it feels good to be bad.
Maybe it feels good to do it as a ‘fuck you’ to him. Kissing his brother is the ultimate insults. But somehow, I think it’s more than that.
Kissing Jesse feels right. His hands wrap around my body as if he’s known me forever. He kisses me softly, then hard, and then soft again. His tongue spreads my lips as his kiss becomes more insistent. He groans when I slip my tongue into his mouth, and then sinks his fingers into my ass.
It’s like he knows all my buttons. He knows how to push them, and when, and in what order. It’s more than a kiss. It’s electric. It’s pure passion.
And it feels incredible.
When we pull apart, I’m panting. Jesse runs his fingers through his hair and then grabs his drink, finishing it in one gulp.
I take a sip of water, trying to cool down my burning cheeks.
I gla
nce over and see Rachael staring at me with wide eyes. She has a huge grin on her face and she shakes her head from side to side.
Shut up, I mouth to her, and she just starts laughing. One of the players touches her on the shoulder and she winks at me before turning to him.
I glance back at Jesse. He’s staring at me, and I start laughing.
I can’t help it. It’s such a ridiculous situation. A smile twitches over his lips until he’s chuckling with me, shaking his head.
“That felt better than winning the Super Bowl,” he laughs.
“Wow, that may be the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“It’s true.”
His eyes search mine, as if he’s waiting for me to say something, or do something.
But I don’t know what to say. All I know is that I want him. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. The voice in my head that says ‘this is wrong’ is getting quieter by the second.
“You want to get out of here?” He finally asks.
I inhale, chewing my lip.
I know what that means.
If I leave with Jesse right now, I’m going to sleep with him. I know I will. I won’t be able to stop myself. He’s too sexy, too irresistible. He’s too perfect.
I’m going to sleep with my ex-fiancé’s brother a week after we broke up.
I’m going to be that person.
“Why couldn’t I have met you before him?” I say with a sad smile.
His eyes close for a moment and he shakes his head. “I know,” he says in a low voice. “I’ve thought of that so many times since I met you at the cabin.”
“Mansion,” I correct.
He laughs and shakes his head again. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop being so goddamn perfect.”
“I’m far from perfect,” I grin.
“You’re perfect to me.”
Words escape me. A lump forms in my throat and a fire ignites in my stomach. It feels like my heart is breaking all over again. I’m staring at an alternate reality—one that didn’t end up with me being cheated on. Jesse has all the qualities I loved in Elijah. He’s charming and confident. He’s got the body and the chiseled face with the cute little dimple. He’s got the raw, alpha-male power coursing through his veins.
Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series Page 25
