Insta-Hubby (A Billionaire Fake Relationship Romance)

by Lauren Milson

“You leave that there,” Jamie says. “I’ll put your stuff in the dishwasher. You and Chris need to get busy down in the basement. That tree isn’t going to dress itself.”

  I only hope my sister’s gentle teasing is lost on my parents and brother, and I grit my teeth and try to hide my smile. “Thanks, Sis.”

  Chris and I make our way to the basement, and once there, we start by checking a few closets for the large plastic crates we store all the Christmas decor in.

  “So you guys haven’t had a tree in a few years, have you?” Chris says, sliding a crate out from a closet and wiping away the dust on top with the sleeve of his red flannel shirt. Pulling the lid off, there’s a bunch of my summer clothes tucked away for the winter.

  I flick the light switch on and check another closet, pulling out a box that I hope contains simple white lights. “Yeah,” I say, “that’s right. Not since granddad, you know.”

  “Yeah. That’s a shame. I never got to meet him. I’m sure if he’s anything like you and your mom, I would have loved him.” Hearing him say that makes my heart feel like it’s glowing. He pulls another box out of the closet and opens it, revealing an assortment of simple gold and silver balls and other unique ornaments for the tree. “Bingo. Found the gold and silver decorations for Jamie.”

  “That’s perfect,” I say. After confirming that my box is packed with the white lights, I find the tree stand in another box hidden away at the back of the closet and start back up the stairs with the tree stand.

  “Wait,” Chris says. “I was hoping we could talk a little.”

  I turn to look back at him and I’m overwhelmed with the heady combination of excitement and uncertainty. Looking down at him from a few steps up, I feel like I’m a world away. He’s got his hands shoved into his pockets, and all I want is for him to come up to me and wrap his arms tight around my waist, pull my hair back in his fist, and kiss me tenderly like it’s the first time.

  “We can,” I say cautiously, stopping to catch his glance. “You’re going to stay and help decorate the tree, aren’t you?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he says, stepping toward the bottom step and squaring his body with mine. His sharp, chiseled face stands in contrast to the softness of his fleece. That sexy button-down and those dark jeans fit him perfectly, and my breath catches somewhere deep in my throat as he looks straight into my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I meant I really wanted to talk to you.”

  A little cough forms in the back of my throat and I choke it back. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t want to talk about anything in particular,” he says, putting his hands over mine and taking the tree stand from me. “I just want us to be. You know? Maybe go for a drive later.”

  “Chris, I don’t know.” He inches closer to me, ever so slightly, and I feel a wave of heat wash over me. The room gets heavy around me, and the chill of the damp room doesn’t feel so bad anymore. It feels good. Like I’m swimming in warm water. “The roads aren’t good.”

  Setting the tree stand down, he slips his fingers around my arms, sending a flurry of goosebumps over my tender flesh. I haven’t had this happen to me in so long. I haven’t had a man touch me like this since him, a year ago. He was the last man I kissed, and the memory of his lips on mine has continued to haunt me since then.

  “So we’ll stay here tonight.” He leans into my neck and says gently into my ear. “I’ll keep you good and warm.” His fingers loosen up on my flesh until they’re barely touching me, and his slips his hands softly down my arm to my fingers, entwining them with his.

  “Okay.” I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder. He’s warm in the cold, he’s here when I’m away. He’s light in the dark, he’s hard and soft. My mind swirls with a million thoughts and questions as I feel his fingertips lift my chin up until his eyes are upon mine again. “We can’t leave everyone waiting too long.” He breaks his glance away from me and grabs the tree stand, grins, and bounds quickly up the stairs.

  Chris

  I’ve mentally cleared my calendar for the next two weeks. I’ve got money my pocket and wind in my sails, and I don’t give a shit if I need to dig Jess’ truck out of ten feet of snow. Tomorrow I’m taking her somewhere special.

  It’s so strange being back in this house. After what happened, Paul and I still hung out, but we eventually all but lost touch. It wasn’t just because his sister and I broke up. It was because I’d become a reclusive piece of shit. Jamie and I were always friendly, but she stopped texting me random things that popped into her head. I didn’t blame any of them for what happened. They are Jess’ blood, and that’s a bond that can never be broken. Even the bonds promised with marriage vows can be bent and broken. I've seen it happen.

  I get back upstairs, where Paul is slicing the plastic netting off the tree to let it fall.

  “I’ve got the stand,” I say, positioning it in one corner of the room. “Here?”

  “Looks good,” Jess says, stepping up behind me and putting an arm around Jamie’s shoulder.

  I pick up the tree with one hand by the trunk and lift it into the stand, taking one knee to the floor to start screwing it into place.

  Strand by strand and piece by piece, the tree becomes dressed in all its glory. And like Jamie said, it does turn out looking pretty fucking epic. I think we decorated it with every single ornament this family owns. And the most incredible, beautiful, imperfectly perfect part of it was Jess. She attended to the tree with the care that an astronomer would use when measuring the distance between the stars. I kept stealing little looks at her, checking to see what ornament she would choose next. She made everything seem important and easy at the same time. Every little imperfection on the tree, she made to look good. She attempted to see harmony and grace even though it was the last man standing.

  I know it’s fucking corny, but I can’t help it.

  And the whole time, we occasionally came into contact, our hands touching accidentally when we both went to place an ornament on the same branch, or when I needed to get to a spot on the tree that she was blocking and I had to guide her hips to move her over a few inches.

  “I feel like you should be a professional tree decorator,” I say to her, stepping back to admire our collective work.

  She laughs and wipes her hands on her jeans. “That would be fun, but I don’t know that it’s steady work.”

  “Have you given any more thought to transferring schools, honey?” her dad asks, taking a seat on their old pull-out couch.

  I didn’t know she was thinking about transferring, but I guess I don’t know much about what she’s up to these days.

  “You don’t like California?” I ask. “The weather too beautiful for you?”

  She sighs and turns away from me, going into the kitchen and pouring a glass of red wine. “I don’t know yet.” She shoots her dad a quick glance, and he gets up.

  “It’s time for some dessert anyway, isn’t it?” He goes into the kitchen and places the big tray of assorted cannoli, neapolitans, pignoli and mini black and white cookies from Kaitlyn’s on the kitchen table, taking it from its safe hiding place on the counter.

  Everyone descends upon the pastries. I go for a black and white cookie, and there’s more than enough for everyone to try a little bit of everything.

  “Thinking of transferring?” I ask Jess, and she nods, her eyes cast down to the floor. “What other schools are you applying to?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure yet. It’s all too early for that,” she responds.

  “I’m getting tired,” Jamie says, stretching her arms out over her head. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to sleep with all the sugar in my blood, but I better try..”

  “I think I’m tired too,” Mrs. Murphy says. “Chris, promise me you won’t drive home in this mess.” She looks out the window and pulls her oversized grey wrap sweater tighter around her shoulders. “It looks like it’s coming down hard again, and I doubt the streets have been plowed.�
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  “I, um, don’t really have my car with me.” I still can’t believe I was drinking all day with those guys. And how differently the rest of the night could have gone if Jess hadn’t come upon the tree farm.

  “That’s even better,” Mr. Murphy says. “I’ll grab you a blanket. You’ll sleep here.”

  “Fine,” I say, “you’ve convinced me.”

  It’s my fucking dream to stay up all night talking to Jess and making her feel good and warm and safe. It’s a good thing I couldn’t go home even if I wanted to. Not that I want to. Not that I’d ever want to.

  Jess’ dad sets me up with a fluffy pink blanket and pillow, and after everyone’s gone to bed, Jess is still up, tidying the kitchen and taking in the tree from afar.

  “I have to say it does look really good,” she says, padding over to me. “You want me to grab you some fresh socks? Are your feet cold?”

  “Nope,” I say. “But I do want you to come over here.” I pat the seat next to me on the couch and she walks over shyly. She was always like this. It’s part of what I immediately liked about her. “I hope your day’s turned around and ended up being okay.”

  “Okay?” She laughs, slipping one leg beneath her and turning to me. “It wasn’t just okay. It was perfect.” She gazes up at me, small and quiet, her eyes swimming with something I can’t put my finger on. “Today I shut the radio off because I didn’t want to hear Christmas music. But now I want to hear it. It feels like a different day than it started out as.”

  “Oh yeah?” I say, slipping a lock of hair behind her ear. “What’d you listen to instead?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she says. “It was just this old mixtape someone made for me a long time ago.”

  She bites down on her lip, and I strain to make my cock behave. I have no claim over this woman anymore, but that makes me want her all the more. She still feels like mine, even though she isn’t. That needs to be fixed. I need to make her mine. I need to feel her toes against my legs when I wake up in the middle of the night. I need her to be there. I need her body and her heart. I don’t just want to make her pussy mine. I want to make all of her for all of me.

  “It’s settled. We’re going to take a drive in your truck before you have to leave for school again. I don’t care if I need to go out there and shovel all the roads myself.” I wrap my arms around her waist, and she’s smooth and soft as I feel her melt into my body.

  “What if we just shovel one street and drive up and down it?” she says, grasping onto me and looking up, her eyes searching mine.

  “That would be fine.” My dick is absolutely rock solid thinking about all the things I’m going to do to her, how I’m going to take my time with her body and make her beg and plead with me to give her my cock.

  Her breath quakes and I can feel her heart beat inside her, trying to signal to her lips the next words to speak. “Remember what we talked about the last time we saw each other?”

  I laugh. It’s like she’s toying around with my cock. “Of course I remember. I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to wait until you were absolutely certain that you were ready. And then when you had to leave for school and we knew we wouldn't be able to be together, I didn't want you to do anything you'd regret. But now? I’m sure you’ve had plenty of opportunity to finally have sex off at grad school.”

  “I have to tell you something, Chris.” She looks up at me through her long, fluttering lashes. A dusting of pink flushes over her cheeks as she looks out the window. The soft light of the tree and the moon cascade over her face and body, and I look down at her breasts, the slightest hint of cleavage peeking out from her delicate lace bra beneath her cozy sweater. Even after a year has gone by, I can still taste her sweet kisses on my mouth.

  I sink down into the couch, her body coming toward me and resting on my chest. “What is it, honey?”

  “God, this is so embarrassing.” Snuggling her face into my chest, she whispers, “I still haven’t done it.”

  My baby is still a virgin. Another man’s cock hasn’t had the sweet pleasure of feeling that beautiful, tight pussy. And now, that feeling of possessiveness that surged through my veins when I saw Josh talking to her? That was nothing. That was absolutely fucking nothing.

  “Why is that embarrassing, baby?” I cup her cheeks in my hands and peer down at her milky, pure skin. My cock is hard as steel, and I know I’m about to make her mine. Because my cock and my lips haven’t gone anywhere near another girl in the past year. I’ve only jerked off thinking of her, and all the girls in the world at a naughty or nice party couldn’t take my mind off her.

  “I haven’t even kissed another guy.” Her confession makes me wild inside. I bend down to capture her lips with mine, my tongue forcing its way inside her soft pink mouth as she opens up for me. I feel her body fall into me like a wave, the sweet heat from deep inside her melting into me.

  “You think you’re finally ready to do it?” I try, pulling her onto my lap. I can practically smell the desire coming off her. She’s glowing, and as she moves to straddle my lap and wraps her arms tight around my neck, my cock is already about to explode.

  Her breathing becomes jagged and unsteady in my hands. I know I can get her off by just slipping my fingers down her stomach and into her panties. To feel that softness against my hand, to feel that button beneath my fingers. She’d melt in my hands in an instant.

  “I don’t know, Chris. Right now?” She pulls away from me and stiffens up a little, but her pussy in my lap is saying something different.

  “Let me do something else, if you don’t want to yet,” I whisper gently into her ear, pushing her soft hair away.

  Pulling her up and away from my cock, I move her body so her stomach is in front of my lips. Her skin is so soft, her body curving in just the right way. I can barely take it as I kiss her stomach, pushing her sweater up slowly as I make a trail of smooth kisses down to the top of her jeans. I look up to see her gorgeous face, craving her mouth on my cock. But I need to make her pussy mine, and I need to do it right now. And even if she isn’t ready to feel me inside her, claiming her, I need to make her know that I can do more for her than any other guy can.

  “What are you doing to my body?” she moans sweetly, her belly rising and falling more rapidly with her breath. My hand slips down past the waist of her jeans and I feel a little tuft of hair teasing my fingers. I need her on my tongue, and I undo her jeans fast and grip her by the waist, laying her down on the couch.

  She meets me halfway and wiggles out of her jeans, kicking them down onto the floor. I take the plunge and slip her panties aside, my heart threatening to burst out of my fucking body.

  “This is mine, baby.” I lick up her slit, stopping to suck her little pink clit into my mouth. “No one else’s. Do you understand?” I slip a finger inside her soaked pussy as she shudders and quakes against my touch.

  “Yes,” she whimpers, her eyelids shut tight. “Yes.”

  “Say you understand that your pussy is mine,” I command, pumping a finger deep and feeling every inch of her, pressing myself against her and feeling her from deep inside. “Say it.”

  “I understand that my pussy is yours.” She looks down at me as my tongue descends on her clit. I push her legs open wide and hold her down by her thighs. I cannot get enough of her. Her scent is intoxicating. The curve of her legs and hips is making my cock press so fucking hard against my jeans. But if she says she isn’t ready for my cock yet, I’ll let her feel something good anyway. I’ll let her know that she’s mine only.

  Her breathings picks up and I swirl my tongue against her clit, my lips wrapped tight around it. Fucking her hard with my fingers, I squeeze her ass as she lets out a series of sweet little moans into the air.

  “Come all over my tongue baby. That’s it.” I pull her orgasm out from deep inside her as she struggles to be silent. I love the way her body moves and writhes and as she comes all over my face, but I crave more. I need her to scream my name as I bury myself deep i
nside her, making her come with my cock.

  But this is pretty fucking good for the time being.

  Jess

  My body wakes up before my mind does. I’m in bed, warm and cozy under all of my blankets, and it’s almost as though I can feel Chris next to me. But slowly I start to remember what happened last night, and I feel a wash of relief that he’s not beside me this morning.

  I can still feel his fingers inside, pushing deep down and making me crave more. I can still feel the goosebumps plump up over in the insides of my thighs as his breath moved up toward my pussy.

  I sit up in my bed and rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. It’s Christmas morning, and all I can think of is him between my legs.

  Swinging my feet off the bed, I get up and pad over to the window. The snow has let up, leaving a cloudless sky in its wake with the sun just starting to come up over the hills in the East. I know a sky like this means it’s cold out, but inside my room, I’m warm. It feel so good to know that everything out there is a mess, but inside my home, I’m alright.

  I just have to keep telling myself that, and pretend last night never happened.

  That was the closest I’d ever gotten. Chris has done things to me before. Amazing, toe-curling, remember-the-feeling-the-next-day things. But I was so close this time to begging him to just take me right then and there.

  Now I’m just glad I didn’t. And I hope he and I can pretend nothing happened.

  I grab my phone and check the time. It’s a little too early for anyone to be up yet, so I go downstairs, planning to start making breakfast. We have all the things we need for chocolate chip pancakes, and I know once I start cooking, the smell of sizzling, buttery pancakes will tempt my family out of their beds.

  Without turning on any lights in the hallway, I make my way quietly toward the stairs. The sun is starting to bleed into the hallway and cast a warm glow over everything. I’m extra careful to avoid the spots on the stairs that I know make a squeaking noise when you step on them. I turn the corner, expecting Chris to still be sleeping on the couch with that silly pink blanket my dad gave him, but when I get to the living room, he’s gone. The blanket is folded up neatly and placed on the back of the couch, and that’s the only trace that Chris was here. I even go into the hallway at the front door to check to see if his boots are still there, and there’s nothing. The blanket is the only evidence that he was ever here.