“Seems pretty appropriate to me,” I grin, hooking my arm around her waist. I pull her down on top of me in a fit of giggles. I crush my lips against hers and tangle my fingers into her hair to deepen our kiss. She wraps her arms around me and swings her legs over to straddle me.
I groan.
The space between her legs is slick and hot, and it makes my cock throb. She sits up, rolling her hips back and forth on top of me. The velvety smoothness of her pussy is intoxicating.
“Farrah,” I breathe, groaning.
Her movement pauses, and she places her hands on my chest. She sighs, shaking her head.
“Why couldn’t I have met you first?”
Her eyebrows pinch together and I sigh, stroking her creamy thigh.
“Hey,” I say. “Don’t think like that.”
“I can’t help it,” she sighs. I can still feel her wetness against me, and it’s hard to control what’s going on in my body. My eyes flick down to her bare breasts, and then back up to her face. My hands run up her stomach and then cup her breasts. I pinch her nipples and she gasps. Her hands cover mine. She licks her lips.
She shakes her head. “Imagine what the papers would say if they caught us.”
“Fuck the papers! You think I care about the papers?”
“Imagine what your parents would say! What Elijah would say!”
Her chest rises and falls as her breath gets shorter, and she slides off me. She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. I turn onto my side, trailing my finger up her chest and across her collarbone. She closes her eyes for a moment, sighing.
“Do you regret coming home with me?”
She opens her eyes and looks at me, and then takes a deep breath. “No,” she says, and warmth spreads through my chest. Then a grin twitches across her lips. “Your bed is much more comfortable than mine.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
“Credit where credit is due.”
“Glad I could provide a comfy mattress for you.”
She laughs, fluffing the pillow under her head. “I think it’s more the bedding that makes it, to be honest. I can’t afford goose down pillows, or whatever these are.”
Watching her laugh while she lays in my bed, with the morning sun streaming through the windows and her naked body splayed over the blankets is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wrap my arms around her and pull her on top of me, and this time she doesn’t climb off.
There’s no mention of tabloids, or family, or appropriateness. There’s just her body and mine, intertwined and connected in ways I’ve only dreamed of until now.
Her skin is soft. Her eyes are bright. Her hands drift over my chest as she rides me all the way to orgasm. I’ve never felt this good.
Later, when we’ve showered, we wander out to the kitchen. Farrah is wearing a tee-shirt of mine and it goes down just past her perfect ass. She opens the fridge and bends over to look inside, and the shirt rides up a little bit.
My cock jumps to attention.
How is it possible for one woman to turn me on this much? It’s like whenever she’s near, I’m immediately hard. She doesn’t even realize how sexy she is.
I watch her pull out a couple eggs and a carton of orange juice. She looks at me, raising her eyebrows.
“What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She frowns at me, shaking her head. “Weirdo.”
I move in behind her and wrap my arms around her. I just can’t keep myself away from her. When she pushes her hips back into me, I growl.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Farrah.”
Her cheeks redden and a smile floats over her face. She turns her head, laying it on my shoulder. I let my hands drift up underneath the shirt and pull her body against mine.
She fits so perfectly. I inhale deeply, groaning at the scent of her.
This is too good.
But how long will it last?
The thought enters my head uninvited. As if she had the same thought, Farrah pulls away and points to my coffee machine.
“You know how to use that thing?”
I nod, tearing myself away from her to make some coffee. We work in silence, her making the eggs and me getting plates, utensils, coffee, and toast ready. We don’t talk much. When the eggs are almost ready, she hops from foot to foot and makes a little squealing noise.
“This looks good,” she says, and then glances at me. “Don’t you think? I’m starving.”
“Yeah,” I say, letting my eyes drop down her body. “It does.”
A smile flashes over her face and warmth passes through my chest.
We spend the whole day together, mostly in bed. After breakfast, we head to her hotel to check on Moose, and then we test out her bed. We avoid talking about my family or her breakup or anything that makes that shadow cross her face. I can’t help but feel like this is my only chance with her, so I do my best to memorize her body.
Just in case.
I make love to her again and again, drinking her in fully and completely. I watch her orgasm and try to burn the image of her face in my mind. I run my hands all over her body so that I can remember what it feels like underneath me.
This may be my only chance with her.
19
Farrah
When Jesse finally leaves the hotel, he gives me his phone number and lays a soft kiss on my lips. We linger like that, and then he finally walks out. I let out a big sigh, hugging my arms around my chest and grinning to myself.
I pull out my phone to save his number and see a dozen texts from Rachael.
Instead of answering them all, I just dial her number. It doesn’t even ring once.
“Where the hell have you been?!”
“Away from my phone. Just got your messages.”
“Farrah.”
“Rachael.”
“You’re going to have to spill it. Otherwise I’ll be banging on your hotel room door all night.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “What the heck is wrong with me, Rachael. I just slept with my ex’s brother.”
“Your cheating ex’s brother. You have full permission to sleep with whoever the heck you want to.”
“Yeah.” A pain goes through my chest, like it always does when I think of Elijah.
“You are totally within your right to have a hate-fuck. All the better if it’s his freaking brother. Go you! That’s so freaking hilarious.”
“Maybe to you,” I grin. “To me it just seems like a mistake.”
“Was he that bad?”
“What? No! It didn’t even feel like a hate-fuck. He was… he was good.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to do?”
I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to?”
I don’t answer, and Rachael sighs.
“You like him, don’t you.”
“I don’t know! I am so confused. I literally just broke up with Elijah a week ago, and now I’m sleeping with his brother? And I’m enjoying it?!
“Yeah.”
We’re quiet for a while. I lay down on my couch, looking out the window at the Boston skyline. I can hear Rachael breathing on the other end of the line.
Finally, I sigh. “I can’t see him again. It’s just too complicated.”
“It would be messy.”
“Very messy.”
“At least you had one night of good sex,” she says. I can hear her grin.
“And a day.”
“Atta girl,” Rachael laughs.
“I’m just over here making lemonade out of lemons.”
“Exactly. And it’s in Jesse’s best interests to make sure Elijah doesn’t find out, so you’re probably safe.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
It feels like my heart is breaking all over again. It doesn’t feel like it ever had time to heal. As soon a
s things were over between Elijah and I, I jumped into bed with his brother. And now… now I think I might actually like him?
It’s all very, very messy.
“You want me to come over?”
I’d almost forgotten I was on the phone with Rachael. I sigh, shaking my head.
“No, I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
“You probably need to let that body of yours recover. Sounds like you went through a pounding.”
“Shut up, Rach,” I laugh. “But yes, yes I did.”
She laughs again. “Brunch tomorrow? I can show you a nice place near your hotel.”
“Sure.”
After I’ve showered and changed into a hotel bathrobe, I slump down on the couch and turn on the TV. ‘The Bachelor is on, and I zone out as I watch a dozen women vying for one man’s attention.
I shake my head.
Not going to be me.
I’m never going to fight other women off just to be able to get a man to notice me. I should have known as soon as I met Elijah. He was always flirting with other women right in front of me, and then denying it.
But Jesse… he gave me his full attention. In the club, I could see all the women around us eyeing him. I could almost feel them sizing me up. He didn’t even seem to notice. He just wanted me.
I sigh, staring at my phone.
I can’t get involved with him. I need to do what I originally set out to do when I moved to Boston: take care of myself. Become my own person. I need to stop chasing men who are unavailable or unattainable. I need to stop trying to fill the void in my heart with anything except love for myself.
So, I take a deep breath. I unlock my phone and find Jesse’s number.
Farrah: Hey Jesse. I had a great time with you last night… and today. I wish things were different and that we’d met a couple years ago. I just can’t get involved with anyone right now. I’m sorry.
When I press send, it feels like my heart is being crushed. I close my eyes, blinking back tears. It only takes a few minutes for his reply to come through.
Jesse: Can’t get involved with ‘anyone’, or can’t get involved with me?
Farrah: Maybe both.
The three little dots appear and then disappear. My heart thumps. Have I made a mistake? I mean, I know I’ve made a mistake somewhere, but I just don’t know if the mistake was sleeping with him, or pushing him away.
Finally, he responds.
Jesse: I understand. No hard feelings.
Why is this so hard? Why does it feel like I’m breaking up with another man so soon after I broke up with my fiancé? It shouldn’t be this hard. I only spent one night with the guy!
My heart is racing. I stand up off the couch and run my fingers through my damp hair. I look at my phone and then toss it onto the coffee table, walking to the bedroom. I strip off the bathrobe and curl into the covers in bed, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to sleep.
When I get to the brunch place to meet Rachael, I feel exhausted even though I slept for almost ten hours. She looks at me, and then stands up to wrap her arms around me.
“Don’t look so sad, Farrah.”
“Do I look that bad?”
“Kind of,” she laughs. “Come on, get some pancakes or something to cheer you up.”
She distracts me with stories of the weekend—how her night ended with three football players offering to carry her home. Soon, as usually happens with Rachael, I’m laughing.
“And then what did he say?”
“He told me I was the prettiest white girl he’d ever seen.”
“Wow, smooth,” I grin.
“It was pretty smooth after four tequilas,” she laughs. She takes another sip of coffee and tilts her head.
“How about you? Did you break things off with Jesse?”
I nod. “I texted him.”
“Ah.”
“I mean, I just had one hook-up with him. A text seemed appropriate.”
“Definitely. How did he take it?”
“Okay. Hard to tell, I guess. He said ‘no hard feelings’.”
“Except his cock. I’m sure it has very hard feelings,” she says, moving her eyebrows up and down. I laugh.
“It did on Friday night.”
We laugh, and it feels good. I know that tomorrow, I’ll go to work and slip into a new routine. I’ll meet new friends and start building a life here. Time will pass, and things will get easier.
I know all these things, but it doesn’t make it any easier right now.
It feels like I’ve wasted my chance with Jesse by choosing his brother first. It feels like I’ve wasted two years of my life chasing a man who never cared about me in the first place. It feels like I’m never going to meet the right man, and I’m never going to be happy.
“Stop it,” Rachael says, pulling me out of my head.
“Stop what?”
“You’re going into a negative mental spiral. I can tell. I can see it on your face.”
I sigh, chuckling. “Yeah.”
“So stop. Just focus on you. People at work already love you. You’re going to do great. I heard that we’re getting a new client this week, and they want you to be in charge of the file. So you’ll be busy, and successful, and you won’t have time for silly boys.”
Silly boys. Jesse is anything but a silly boy. I frown as the rest of her sentence sinks in.
“What? When did you hear that? Isn’t it a bit early for me to be in charge of anything? I just started last week!”
“This firm has a bit of a ‘sink or swim’ mentality,” she grins. “You’ll be fine. I believe in you.”
If Rachael’s plan was to distract me from my mental freak-out about men by replacing it with a mental freak-out about work, then she was successful.
She winks at me and we pay the bill, and then head out for a walk together. Even though it’s cold out, the sun is shining. It feels good to be with my friend again, after so many years apart.
And when I get back to my hotel room, I realize that it feels good to be on my own.
I don’t need Jesse, or Elijah, or Max, or anyone else. I don’t need a man to provide for me and protect me. Rachael is right. I can make it on my own, and I can handle whatever the firm throws at me.
This is my time. And I’m going to make the most of it.
20
Jesse
I know Farrah is right. I know that being together would be complicated, and messy, and probably a bad idea. I know all those things in my head, but it doesn’t change the fact that it hurts.
I want her. I want her mind and body. I want her beside me when I go to sleep and when I wake up in the morning. I don’t know how it happened, but I need her.
Ever since that first day when I pulled a splinter out of her palm, I’ve felt an undeniable connection to her.
It’s not just sibling rivalry. It’s not just me wanting what my brother has.
It’s different.
It’s her.
I want her because she is who she is. Because she says the things she does, and because she laughs the way she laughs.
But still, I know she’s right.
I know that we shouldn’t be together. That I shouldn’t pursue her. That I should just forget about her.
I find myself cursing Elijah. Once again, my little brother has gotten everything and appreciated nothing. I glance down at my new Super Bowl ring and sigh.
At least he didn’t get that.
Why aren’t I celebrating? Why don’t I feel happy about this? It should be the best time of my life right now.
Monday morning, I have a meeting with my new investment firm. My Matthews Football School project is very close to getting off the ground, I just need to secure one more investor for financing. I straighten my tie and take a deep breath. This meeting is very important. It feels like the start of something big—the start of the next chapter of my life.
I step through the big revolving doors and am hit with a wave of warmth. Boston is st
ill freezing in February, so I immediately start stripping off layers. By the time I make it to the elevators and up to the twenty-second floor, beads of sweat are running down the side of my face. My jacket is slung over my arm, along with my hat and scarf. I head toward the receptionist and introduce myself.
“Jesse Matthews,” I say. “Here to see Victor Bennett.”
“Mr. Matthews,” she smiles. “Right this way.” She shows me to a gleaming conference room with a wall of windows overlooking the Charles River. I take a seat and the receptionist smiles at me.
“Can I get you any tea? Coffee? Water?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.”
“No problem. Mr. Bennett should be right with you.”
She reappears a minute later with a mug of coffee, which I accept gratefully. As soon as she disappears out the door, Victor appears.
“Jesse!” He exclaims, arms out wide. “Long time no see!”
“I’ve been busy winning Super Bowls,” I grin. He laughs, pumping my arm up and down in a strong handshake.
“So you have. And all of Massachusetts is proud of you,” he grins. “Now, Farrah should be right in. She’s new to the team, but she’s one of our best and brightest. She has years of experience in the construction industry, which I think will be perfect to assess your application.”
I clear my throat. “Farrah?”
“You haven’t met her yet,” he says.
My heart starts thumping. I take another sip of coffee just as she steps through the door. In my shock, I swallow the hot liquid down the wrong pipe and start spluttering and coughing all over myself. My white shirt soon has brown coffee stains all over it, and both Victor and Farrah are at my side.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I say waving them away. “Thank you.”
Farrah’s eyebrows draw together and she opens her mouth to say something, but Victor speaks first.
“I’ll get Vanessa to grab us some water. One moment.”
He slips out the door and I hear him calling out to the receptionist. Farrah looks at me and takes a deep breath.
“They gave me your file this morning,” she says. “I didn’t know it was you. It just said J.M., it didn’t have a name on it. I would have said no if I’d have known it was you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you choke.”
Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series Page 27
