Billionaire's Fake Fiancee

by Eva Luxe

  “Hey!” I try to look indignant, but she just laughs at me.

  “Nah, I didn’t get it. Hold still—” she leans in, and instead of using her fingers, she uses her cute little mouth to lick a bit of chocolate off my cheek. “Almost. There’s just a little left…right…here.”

  That’s when she kisses me. Again.

  I don’t ever want her to stop doing that. Surprise kissing me like that. “Sneak attack kissing.” Because I fucking love it.

  Chapter 27 – Brent

  We rush through the tasting of the cake. Chocolate, vanilla, rainbow sprinkles – “Is this wedding cake or kids’ birthday cake?” Amelia jokes about that one – and then we’re thanking Bri for the hospitality and letting her know we’ll make up our minds soon.

  “It was great to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Soon to Be Forester,” she says, with a big smile. We nod politely, but we’re more interested in racing back to my apartment to pick up where Amelia’s kiss left off.

  Now that we’re back to my views of the Park and my silk sheets, I’m the one to kiss her. On the lips on her face as well as the lips of her pussy. I spread her legs open wide and devour her, taking my time to lick up and down and all around her clit, just as if there was icing on it. In fact, at one point she comments that it’s like I’m still eating the wedding cake.

  “It tastes even better,” I tell her. “And one of these days I’m going to have to spread icing all over your already delicious pussy.”

  I spread her lips open wide and play with her clit while my tongue darts in and out of her pussy hole.

  “Oh, my God, it feels so good, Brent,” she groans.

  Still loving the sounds that she makes, I suck on her clit until she’s wrapping her legs around my face and squeezing, humping my mouth with her pussy and begging me not to stop.

  “I’m cumming. I’m cumming,” she calls out.

  “Good girl.”

  When she’s done, I flip her over and put a condom on. Her ass and pussy are spread wide for me. I think about smearing icing all over everything and licking it all up. I’m definitely going to have to get some fucking icing. I’ve never been much of a cook or baker, and usually eat my meals out or get take out. But this event is worth buying some fucking icing for.

  I plunge my fingers back into her wet pussy and suck on her clit some more for good measure. She moans and squirms, cumming again right onto my face.

  I spank her plump ass cheeks while I gnaw on her clit, and then when I finally come up for air she’s cum so many times I’ve lost count. I put on a condom and finally plunge my cock into her pussy.

  “Yes,” she calls out, as I hold onto her hips and rock her back and forth on my cock. “This is the best sex I’ve ever had.”

  I like hearing that. It makes my cock grow even bigger and harder inside her. I spank her and say, “You like when I do what I want to you and fuck you doggy style, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Brent, yes!” she calls out, her pussy quivering and pulsing on my cock. I look down at myself half in her, half out of her, her juices spilling all over my cock. I think about trying to take her other hole – her small little ass hole – but I decide that that can wait until I have the icing. Right now, her pussy feels so warm and good that I just want to stay here until I…

  “I’m gonna cum,” I tell her, as I feel my balls tighten.

  “Me too,” she says, and I’m glad we’re going to cum together, for what must be her tenth time, at least.

  I feel myself throb in her pussy before I feel the final release. I grab ahold of her ass and let myself go, as she squirms all over my cock.

  “That feels so fucking good,” she pants, as both of us collapse onto my bed.

  I wrap my arm around her and look into her beautiful eyes. Shit. I’m beginning to think I never want to let her go.

  Chapter 28 – Amelia

  “Oh, my God. Tell me you licked more than just frosting!” Rosa’s voice is shamelessly loud, as usual. The barista handing us our coffees barely bats an eye - this is New York, after all, that’s probably only the fifth filthiest thing someone’s yelled in here today. Still, though.

  I take my coffee and glare Rosa out of the shop with a look that I like to imagine is akin to the face-melting energy of the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones. It doesn’t deter her one bit. “What else would I lick, Rosa?”

  “Oh, I dunno… abs come to mind. Or cheeks. Or between cheeks—”

  “Rosa!”

  “What?! Anal play is perfectly safe as long as you’re sanitary,” she says without breaking stride on our way down the sidewalk.

  “Sanitary and anal are two words that don’t go together in any lexicon.”

  “Well then clearly you haven’t watched enough adult ‘educational’ videos, lady.”

  “Pornhub is not educational!”

  “Says you! It’s not my fault you’re behind on things. Or not behind, from the sounds of it.”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing. You’re going to have a lot more experience with being behind when this is over.” I laugh as we walk onto one of the empty neighborhood basketball courts.

  “Amelia. Was that…trash talk?” Rosa looks at me, glee plastered across her face. “This new boy toy really does have you riled up, huh?” Rosa drops the basketball from under her arm and dribbles it easily. “Good thing you can score with him, because that’s one thing you won’t be doing here.”

  These weekend basketball games have been a tradition for the two of us ever since we worked our first case at the firm together a few years ago. I mean, we say “worked,” but really we spent most of our time throwing crumpled up paper balls through the little hoop Rosa had on the back of her office door. Once that case was done, we started playing for real - partially to avoid the horny jackasses at the firm’s basement gym, but also because…well, it was really fun.

  I snag the ball from midair with a grin. “We’ll see.” My machismo is immediately deflated when I toss up a warmup 2-pointer and miss by a solid foot.

  Rosa laughs, collecting the ball before it bounces off the court. “Hey, so you remember how Sam and I have been talking about getting a dog?”

  I catch her pass and nod. “Yeah! Settled on a breed yet?”

  “Funny you ask. We were thinking less breed and more…person.”

  Setting up my next shot, the words almost don’t register. “Oh, that’s a - what?”

  CLANG. The ball ricochets off the backboard and into Rosa’s waiting hands. “Yeah. We’re thinking about fostering a kid. A dog was sorta always meant to be a step towards figuring out if we wanted a family anyway, so really we’re just accelerating things a little.”

  “Accelerating? Rosa, that’s not the word I would use at all.”

  She pauses, resting the ball on her stomach. “Yeah? What would you call it then?”

  “I mean…a course change, at least. Or a massive shift. Or…I dunno, I can’t think of one word that sums it all up.”

  Rosa shoots, but her shot is even worse than mine. The ball slams off the backboard, velocity matching the aggression on her face. “I thought you’d be excited.”

  “Rosa, of course I am! It’s just…it’s big deal. And I thought you hated kids.”

  “Babies, girl. I hate babies. They’re tiny and gross and something about them is always sticky. But I don’t hate kids.”

  I chase down the ball, mostly to give myself a moment to think. “And Sam wants this too?”

  “It was Sam’s idea in the first place, Amelia. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, but maybe you’re the wrong person to ask, what with your new whirlwind romance and all.”

  “Hey! Don’t turn this around on me. I was just doing what you wanted me to, and that’s what started all this in the first place! Two minutes ago you were all for it!”

  “Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Changed your mind? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I toss the ball up, and incredibly, it swooshes through
the hoop. Rosa doesn’t move to rebound it.

  “Just that I have other things on my mind right now…maybe there’s not as much room for your escapades as I thought. I gotta run. You win, 2 - zip.”

  “Escapades? Rosa, wait - ”

  She’s out the gate and on her way down the street before I can catch her. Let her go. You know how she is. So I do.

  “Hey, lady! You dropped the ball.” I turn, and some kid fires our basketball at me from across the court. I snag it out of the air, unthinkingly.

  “Thanks,” is what I say. What I think is, Don’t I know it.

  Chapter 29 – Brent

  When the knock comes at my apartment door, I’m figuring it’s Nikki. So, I shout, “You’re late! Come in!” That’s my first mistake. My second mistake is not leaping out my fifth-floor window when I hear the voice of the woman it actually is walking through my door.

  “Brent!” What. The. Shit. It can’t be. But it is.

  “Kelly?! What’re you—” I hit pause on Super Mario Universe (which I’ve been playing for far too long already), and briefly consider trying to hide the several bags of chips and 12-packs of Mountain Dew I’d amassed for this Saturday gaming marathon.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Kelly demands, sweeping through the kitchen and landing in front of me like some maddened crow. Except this crow has long blonde hair and a body that seems to have become rather gaunt since the last time I saw it. Perhaps she’s been too broken up our broken engagement to eat.

  I swallow my last mouthful of sour cream and onion chips and look up at her. “In life? Or on this couch specifically?”

  “No, jackass! With our wedding!” Uh-oh. How did she—

  “Frank from the Plaza called this morning to thank us for participating in their venue tour and to ask if I wanted to finalize our reservation. To get married.”

  Whoops. “Um…must have been a mistake. Maybe there was somebody there who just looks a lot like you?”

  “Brent, what the hell did you do?!” Okay, so she’s not buying the doppelgänger excuse.

  “Kelly, it’s not so much what I did as what I…didn’t do.” Standing, I brush the chip crumbs off my pants and face her. “Specifically, cancel all our reservations. I was going to do it after you left, but calling all my relatives to cancel their invitations took a lot out of me!”

  “So, what, you’ve just been using our cancelled wedding to get free stuff?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “What makes you think that’s okay?!” Kelly’s not slowing down, and now I start to ramp up. This is how it always was anyway. Why change the pattern now?

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that everything’s paid for with my money? And is non-refundable?”

  “So, you’re what, just pretending I’m sick or something so you can still do all these fancy tours and events?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Well then, what’re you - oh my god, are you going with someone else? To our wedding events? I know some of them require that both parts of the couple be present. I can’t believe you’re too busy lounging around being lazy, playing video games and doing your stupid drawings, and taking someone else to our wedding planning events. You used to be so hard working but now you’re just a bum.”

  “Kelly! First of all, none of this is ‘ours’ anymore. It’s mine. Just mine. You left, not me, so it’s probably better if you just stay out of it and mind your own business!” God, she’s making me explain things to her as if she’s a child. But in this case, at least, I’m not wrong. This isn’t her business. She didn’t like that I retired young and became an artist but she doesn’t have to. It’s not her problem anymore. I’m happy, and she doesn’t have to like it. And, she’s acting like a petulant, demanding toddler.

  Kelly still looks furious, about to unload on me - and that’s when the door bursts open again. This time, it really is Nikki. “Heyoooo! I’ve got snacks! And DOOM 3! Ready to get your ass…handed to you?” She trails off at the sight of Kelly and I facing off. “I’m gonna…go snack in the hall for a little.”

  “No.” I hear myself say. “It’s cool, Nik. Kelly was just on her way out. Weren’t you, Kelly?”

  Man, if looks could kill. Well, to be honest, if that were true I’d have been dead years ago by Kelly’s eyes. But even under this latest withering glare, I’m still standing.

  “I get it now,” she says. “You’re going with Nikki.”

  Kelly had always been jealous of Nikki, which is ridiculous because it’s purely just platonic. But Kelly has always been just a jealous person in general. I decide to use that against her, since she can’t seem to take a hint and leave when I say to leave.

  “While Nikki would make a fabulous wedding venue tour companion, it’s not her,” I announce. “I’ve found someone else. And I’m much happier this way. So, please, leave me alone.”

  “You’re—what?”

  A flash of anger and jealousy flashes in her eyes. I almost feel bad for her. Almost. Kelly leaves without another word, and I flop back onto the couch.

  “That sure looked like fun. You good?” Nikki drops down next to me and cracks open a Dew.

  “I mean, not really. But killing Waluigi always helps when I’m feeling bad.”

  “Works for me.”

  We both grab our controllers, and I feel like I can finally breathe again. Not only because I no longer have to play video games alone now that Nikki finally showed up, but also because I feel so glad I didn’t marry Kelly.

  Chapter 30 – Amelia

  Sunday is brunch day. Or at least, it’s supposed to be. I’ve never quite grasped the point of the ritual, but Rosa loves breakfast food (“Every time is breakfast time,” she always insists). So, it’s become tradition to visit the greasy diner halfway between her apartment and mine every Sunday at 11:30 for terrible food and on-the-sly mimosas. Don’t ask me how she gets that much champagne into a flask, but she does.

  Except this Sunday, it’s noon, and I’m sitting alone, gamely refusing to indulge the “stood-up” stereotype by staring out the diner window into space while sipping coffee.

  I’m staring down at my cold plate of eggs instead. I haven’t heard from Rosa in a few days. Our conversation on the basketball court keeps bouncing around in my head, and the worst thing is that I can’t nail down what bothers me the most about it. I should be happy for her, right? But I don't think I am. Not really, if I’m honest. I don’t really get it and it doesn’t seem like Rosa at all.

  Besides, her dig at my “new romance” might have been offhand, but it still stung. Especially after all the support (and frankly, the pushing) she gave me to get it started in the first place.

  That’s when an alarm chimes on my phone: Meet Brent for Flowers. I’d been so focused on trying to patch things up between Rosa and me, that I’d almost forgotten I’d agreed to look at flower arrangements with Brent this afternoon.

  Another excursion for our nonexistent weddings. Not that I minded. Rosa was right - whatever’s happening with Brent is best described as “whirlwind”…but it’s been a very long time since I’ve experienced anything in my life moving faster than the C Train at rush hour.

  I text Brent: Time to stop and smell the roses! See you soon! My phone buzzes almost immediately with a response: Looking forward to it! I catch myself smiling.

  Corny as it is, maybe there’s a little thrill seeker in me after all. I decide to accept that Rosa has stood me up, and find out why later, after I’ve seen Brent again, which is all I’ve wanted to do these days, anyway.

  When I arrive at the address Brent gave me, I think I’m in the wrong place for a second. The building is practically a skyscraper, and there’s no green grass or flowers in sight, save for the ones in planters stationed to either side of the front door.

  I head into the lobby, and my concerns multiply. It’s just a standard entryway, barely different from the one at the law office. I double-check the address on my phone. Yup, Yukon Nu
rsery. This is it. But where is it?

  “We’ve gotta go up.” Brent’s voice comes from behind me, and I can hear the grin in it before I even turn to see his face. “Hi.” He hugs me, and I hug him back. Before he pulls away, he kisses my cheek, soft and easy. My skin tingles.

  “Follow me.” he takes us into one of the elevators, and pushes the button for 17 - isolated at the very top of the panel.

  Standing next to him in the elevator, I can smell him…like a forest in the summer. I don’t know what he’s wearing, but I can feel my own heart beating a little faster because of it. Or maybe just because of him.

  The elevator chimes for the 17th floor, and when the doors slide open, I catch my breath loudly enough that Brent chuckles. “Pretty cool, huh? Wait until you see the rest of it.”

  We step out of the elevator together. What I at first expected to be an indoor flower shop is actually a rooftop greenhouse - rows of gorgeous flowers are arranged in every direction, radiating out from where we stand at the center of it all, all the way to the edge of the rooftop.

  The sky above is a piercing blue (somehow I notice this now, even though it’s the same as when I was on the sidewalk five minutes ago), and the city towers around us. But this little rooftop feels like a whole different world.

  “This is incredible. How did you find this place?” I ask, the intoxicating aroma of flowers flooding my nostrils.

  Brent smiles, easy and quiet. “Believe it or not? The owner is my old pot dealer.”

  “Your what?!” I’m laughing, but Brent nods. “Yup! Marilyn used to hang out in my old neighborhood and sell bud to college kids. And me. Almost got busted one too many times and took her pursuits in a less ‘questionable’ direction. For the most part.”

  “Yeah, but most days I just wish I’d moved to California. More flowers are legal out there.”

  “I hear you,” he laughs.

  “Me too,” someone says. The voice comes from a row over, and when I look there’s a slight woman in a worn sweatshirt and a beanie grinning at us. She points at me. “You’re new.”