by Lulu Pratt
“Shall we have some Champagne?” I asked. “I think I saw like nine bottles on the counter downstairs.”
“Sure,” she smiled.
The cameras filmed me opening a bottle of Champagne, then the both of us gulping down our first glass. After that, they were done filming for the evening. We continued to drink though, and I could tell the bubbly was loosening her up because she became chatty. I on the other hand, didn’t have much to say.
“Who would really live in a place like this?” she laughed, looking around. “I mean, I guess there are plenty of people who would or do, but I couldn’t imagine. I don’t like cleaning our small house. I would hate dusting this place.”
“It is pretty big,” I said, looking up at the large ceiling. “So, I have a question.”
“All right,” she said, watching me lean closer. “Since you are now technically my wife, and me your husband, and we have to sleep in the same bed anyway, would it be out of the question to make this marriage the real deal?”
“For now, yes,” she said, taking a big sip of her drink, but she smiled at me. “We don’t actually know each other, and we’re in this for the money. I’m not interested in making this any more complicated than it needs to be.”
I nodded and leaned back, deciding to let it go. She needed time, I could see that, all of it was so much to take in. I couldn’t really be upset, I probably would have reacted the same way in her position. Of course, I wasn’t in her position and I could feel my body trying to draw her closer. I wanted her, it had been six hours since I met her, but I wanted her more than anyone I’d ever wanted in my life. If she didn’t come around it was going to be a painful six months.
Chapter 6
MIRA
I LAID THERE in the bed, the blanket pulled up to my neck, staring at the ceiling. Every once in a while, my eyes would dart to the side, noticing a stranger sleeping next to me, his back turned to me. He had taken his shirt off and was sleeping in just his matching satin pants. It was so strange sharing a bed with a man. With the exception of the few times my ex and I had spent the night together, I hadn’t slept with a man in my bed. This was something I would have to get used to. But, this was only first night and it had been a pretty big day. I had worn a seven-thousand-dollar dress, got legally married to a complete stranger, and danced in front of cameras and a bunch of other people I didn’t know, playing the beautiful blushing bride. I was feeling completely unnerved, and it was hard to get everything straight in my head. Sleep wasn’t likely at this point.
The whole thing was unreal, including the part where all of it would be played out on national TV for people to watch and scrutinize. All my friends and family would see it, and they would know I had done it for the money, and the professional exposure. I realized that may not make me look that great, but here I was, the decision written in stone, staring at the back of the man who was now my husband.
Part of me felt bad for rejecting him on our wedding night. He was extremely hot. Like model or calendar guy hot and there was a definite sexual tension between us. As soon as his lips kissed mine after the vows, I could feel the wanting in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t remember a time when a man made me feel that way, but at that moment I had chalked it up to all the craziness and excitement going on around us. But now, hours after the actual wedding, I could feel my body cursing me for turning him down. I was so nervous, nervous to talk, nervous to eat, nervous to change my clothes or even go to the bathroom. Despite all that, I didn’t think I could actually bring myself to sleep with him, even if I wanted to. To me it was no different than meeting a man at a bar and having sex with him the same night, only this time there was no question about him still being there in the morning, there was half a million dollars at stake.
I reached up and clicked the light off by the bed and curled up into a little ball, creating a mound of blankets between us. I could feel him stirring next to me and I froze, hoping he wouldn’t turn over.
“Good night,” he yawned.
“Night,” I squeaked back, laying my head on the pillow.
Ryan was interesting, he wasn’t at all how I’d imagined him. He didn’t have much to say at all, and I wasn’t sure if that was because we didn’t really know each other, or if he was purposefully being standoffish. It made me wonder how we would get through the next six months if we weren’t able to communicate. He didn’t seem like a complete asshole, though. And even when he’d asked about sex it was in a sweet and teasing manner. I didn’t feel threatened by him in the least, but things were all so new, and I was questioning everything, including that hot lust I felt in my chest for him. He could very well turn out to be an ass, but at this moment I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. If I treated him like he was an ass because I expected him to be, that was likely what I’d get, and I didn’t want that to happen.
I’d need to take time to feel out the entire situation, and let things unfold as they were meant to be. In the end, all that mattered to me was making sure my mother had everything she needed. The money was the key part of that, and even if he did turn into a complete idiot, I was determined to put a smile on my face and march forward, because six months was nothing compared to the six months I’d have after having to return with no money and no ability to help her. Finally, I decided I’d had enough for the night, and tried to settle in for bed.
As soon as I closed my eyes I realized just how tired I was. I drifted off to sleep, clutching the pillow under my head. My dreams were not the norm and I found myself walking through an old TV set in the production studio. There was no one there, just props and the set-up of someone’s bedroom. I turned the corner into the fake room and stopped, finding Ryan standing inside, his back to me, wearing nothing but those satin pajama pants. Almost as if I had no control over my own body I felt the lust seep from my stomach and down between my legs. He turned around and flashed a smile, holding a picture of us from the wedding in his hands. I looked down at myself and realized I was wearing a satin nightgown, only this one was white and very short.
Quickly, Dream Ryan swept me into his arms, leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine. I whimpered, tense in his arms, but then relaxed, feeling the power of his passion taking me over. I pressed my palm against his strong warm chest and lifted my chin, opening my mouth and allowing him to explore with his tongue. It was hot and steamy, full of carnal instinct, and I couldn’t help but love the way he took control, caressing my skin with his strong rough hands.
He reached down farther and scooped me up, cradling me in his arms as he carried me over to the bed and gently laid me down. His thumbs looped into the band of his pajama pants and he pulled them down to the floor, his strong hard cock bouncing forward. I bit my lips, watching the beauty of his form, wanting to feel exactly what that big dick could do. He crawled forward on the bed and slid my nightgown down past my breasts and over my hips. Apparently in this dream, panties were optional, which was fine with me in that moment.
I tilted my head and arched my chest as Dream Ryan ran the palms of his hands over my skin, grasping onto my breasts and massaging them. I cooed under his big strong body, slowly spreading my legs apart and welcoming him into me. He smiled and crawled closer, pulling both of my legs up to his sides. He leaned forward over me and kissed me passionately, pulling the lust from my chest. I reached down between my legs and grasped onto his thick hard shaft and gently rubbed up and down over the head. He growled into my mouth, the sound vibrating down my throat, making me even more aroused.
He reached his hands down and pulled mine away, pushing them up and over my head. I grabbed onto the bedspread and stared deep into his eyes as he rubbed his fingers over my hot wet pussy. I moaned loudly, the anticipation of his touch almost overwhelming. He moved himself down until he was over my mound. He gently spread my folds apart and circled his fingers around my clit. He pushed down, rubbing harder and harder, watching me writhe beneath him. He brought his other fingers down and pushed two of them inside
me, pulling a loud deep moan from my chest. I could feel the heat building inside.
I opened my eyes again, finding it so hot that Dream Ryan was watching me, waiting for me to explode. His hands began to move faster, finger fucking me with single-minded passion, his jaw clenched, a look of desire burning hot in his eyes. I wriggled around, never having felt anything like that before, my hands pulling on the comforter, my knuckles white with strain. He twisted his hand over, palm up and flicked the tips of his fingers inside me, making me scream out in pleasure. As soon as they started to push and pull again, I closed my eyes and threw my head back, unable to hold it in any longer. I held my breath as the vibrations of orgasm blew through me, shaking every muscle in my body. I came hard, my juices running out into the palm of his hand.
When my body relaxed again he smiled, pulling out his fingers and grabbing my legs, lifting them up onto his shoulders. I brought my arms down and grabbed my breasts, feeling the tip of his cock rubbing over the length of my mound. When his cock felt my opening, he pushed in hard and fast, grabbing my waist and holding himself deep inside. I gasped at the feeling, his cock completely filling me, my pussy so wet he didn’t need any help sliding right in.
He cracked a mischievous smile and started to thrust, pulling back slowly and pounding into me. My breasts bounced forward and back with every motion, and my moans began to echo his movements. I could feel the tips of his fingers digging into my skin as he pushed faster and harder, his body slamming into me. The sound of our skin meeting over and over echoed through my mind, building that heat back up in my stomach. He pulled my legs from his shoulders and pulled out, reaching down and flipping me over on my stomach. He was no longer gentle, but instead he fucked me with force, with a dominance that made me want to come all over again.
Dream Ryan lifted my ass up in the air and gripped my hips as he quickly entered my wet pussy. He reached around me and rubbed hard against my clit as his hips bounced back and forth. I screamed out in ecstasy as he groaned, his fingers not slowing in the least. He thrust hard inside me and let out a deep moan. The pulsing of his cock sent me over the edge and I exploded once again, my pussy squeezing down on his shaft, both of us coming at the same time. I closed my eyes tight, feeling the climax.
When I opened them again, instead of feeling him inside me, instead of seeing the damp crumpled bedspread in front of me, I was back in our wedding bed, sweating horribly, lying there next to his sleeping form, breathless from the most exotic and realistic dream I had ever experienced.
I could feel the tingle between my legs as my clit pulsed. I’d actually had an orgasm, lying right next to this man, I had orgasmed in my dream. I put my hand over my mouth, and lifted my head to steal a glance, wondering if he had noticed. His back was to me, and he appeared to be asleep, but that didn’t take away from the mortification I was feeling in that moment. I wanted to get up from the bed and run out of the room. I wanted to run right out the front door and keep going until I got to my mother’s house where I could shut myself away from the embarrassment and reality of it all. Thank God they didn’t record you while you were sleeping, it would have a moment that ended my life as I knew it.
I turned over and curled back into a ball, pulling the covers back over me. All I could hope was that I hadn’t screamed in the real world like I had in my dream. Hopefully, he would never know what had happened.
Chapter 7
RYAN
“DO YOU LIKE strawberries?” Mira asked, standing at the kitchen counter cutting up fruit for breakfast.
“Mm-hm,” I answered, reading the paper that was left on the table for us.
“I love strawberries, but I always wait until they’re in season to get them, otherwise they are tart,” she said. “I know an amazing recipe for a strawberry pie. I will make it one day while we’re here. If we can’t be at home, then why not take advantage of this insane kitchen and all the food they stocked the place with?”
I smiled at her and took a sip of my coffee, noticing how toned and sexy her legs were in her little jean shorts. She was incredibly chatty this morning, kind of like the night before until I ruined it by proposing we sleep together. I didn’t mind it though, I assumed that she was simply trying to get to know me better. We hadn’t been told anything about each other beforehand, so we were literally starting from scratch. Neither of us would be working normal jobs while we were there, so there was nothing much to do other than get to know each other. I figured it probably wouldn’t be a horrible idea since the foreseeable future would be spent side by side, experiencing this reality TV thing with only each other as support.
They had cameras set up everywhere and though the cameraman was there, he really blended in with the rest of the house. I barely noticed him at all. From what was explained to us, we would only have full filming when we were doing things together. The rest of the footage taken would be put into the show in bits and pieces as filler. I was prepared for that, but I wasn’t prepared to do so much talking. Mira probably thought I was freezing her out, but that wasn’t the case at all. I had always just been a pretty quiet guy.
My mother called me a ‘man of few words,’ and I was proud of that. I knew many people who just flew off every time they were around others, talking about so many different things it was hard to catch on to one topic before they were racing off to another. I thought the less I spoke the more that it meant. I truly believed in the adage that ‘actions speak louder than words.’ I showed people how I felt, and showed them what I was thinking, and in the end, there was never a question of my motives or intentions. Too many people talked your leg off, but when it came down to when it really mattered, they never stuck to what they said. I would rather you show me through actions over false promises any day.
Because of that I’d always been very careful of what I did and said. I always meant what I said because typically I thought it through before I spoke. If I did something, you knew I meant it. I never pulled back and barely ever acted on impulse, minus this whole adventure. I had blurted out agreement to participate before I took the time to think about it. I didn’t regret it though, it seemed to be going well for the moment, though it was only the second day.
“My mother and I used to go to the ocean and take picnics out there,” she said, sitting down and handing me a plate and setting a bowl of fruit between us. “She would always make this fresh fruit salad with just a bit of sugar on it for the tart fruits. I would always refuse to eat my sandwich and just gorge on the fruit salad. She thought it was funny, so she never pressured me to eat the other stuff. When I got older, I wondered why she even packed it in the first place.”
“Maybe she hoped you would eat it,” I smiled. “Does she make it still?”
“No.” She sighed and put some fruit on her plate. “She’s ill, and most of the time she’s too tired to do any cooking. I do the cooking in the house. In all honesty we haven’t really been able to afford all the fresh fruits and vegetables lately, not with the bills that have been piling up. I work as much as I can, but I have to take care of her, too. She had just got pushed up to four dialysis treatments a week before I came here.”
“Will she always do those?” I asked.
“Until she gets a kidney transplant,” she said, with a shrug. “She’s on the list for one, but sometimes it can be years before anything comes through. We thought for years that when I turned eighteen I would be able to give her one of mine. It was a no brainer, she’s my mother. It was devastating when we found out that I wasn’t a match. She was actually relieved, she’d never wanted me to go through the surgery, but for me, I felt like I’d failed her somehow. She had done so much for me, every day, and I couldn’t do this for her. It was more than I could handle at the time. So, I dug my heels in and started taking care of her fully. It gets worse every year, and now she is probably the weakest I’ve ever seen her. She was having a good day at the wedding, thank God. She was so worried about ruining things, she almost didn’t come, but I really neede
d her there. She is my rock, my eternal support system. I honestly don’t know what I would do without her. She’s been there my whole life, you know?”
She looked up at me and smiled shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I’m blabbering on about this like it matters to you. I tend to talk a lot when I get nervous.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s fine, really. I like to hear where you come from.”
Truthfully, I felt bad for her. It was obvious that her mother’s health had taken a huge toll on her. I hadn’t noticed it the day before under the lights and glamor of the entire day, but she looked tired, and not so much on the outside, but in her soul. I could see the exhaustion in those big brown eyes, even when she tried to hide it with a smile.
“What about your father?” I asked. “Is he in good health?”
“I don’t know,” Mira shrugged. “I’ve never known my father. He left before I was born, and my mother has busted her butt to take care of me all of these years.”
“I don’t know my father either,” I confessed. “He left when I was little as well. My mom, she raised me on her own until she met my stepfather.”
“Are you two friends?” she asked. “I always wondered what it would have been like to have a stepfather, but my mom didn’t want to bring a man into our lives.”
“We aren’t super close, but he is a good man,” I said. “He loved my mother very much and was really there for her. She passed away five years ago from cancer.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, actually sounding like she meant it. “I didn’t know.”
“I know,” I smiled. “We didn’t know anything about each other. She was a beautiful person and she died in his arms with me by her side. It was one of those moments I will remember forever. So, trust me when I say I do know how important a mother is.”
