Pretend I'm Yours

by Ella Miles

  My anger pulses through me, but I don’t know what to do with it. I’m not confrontational. I can’t even stand up for basic things I want in my life. I have no idea how to stand up to a complete stranger. But if I don’t do something, my anger is going to explode out of me.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do! Sebastian invited me up here. I’ll wait for him to return.” I cross my arms over my chest as I glare at him. There. I did it. I told someone what I was thinking when I was feeling it. Mission accomplished.

  Except Kade either didn’t hear me or is completely ignoring me as he pulls some clothes out of the drawer and slams it shut, making me jump.

  He gradually turns to face me.

  “You don’t want to lose your virginity to an ass like Sebastian.”

  My cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. “How do you…” I can’t finish the sentence. It’s not like ‘virgin’ is etched across my chest. The only person who knows is Serena, and she wouldn’t tell a soul. He doesn’t know I’m a virgin. It’s a guess to get me riled up.

  “I’m not a vir—”

  He laughs. “Yes, you are. Now, get dressed.” He thrusts the clothes into my hands. I take them because I’m too shocked to think through any of my actions.

  “I don’t know what my brother was doing with someone like you,” he says, under his breath.

  But I hear his words. And they sting like hell. Someone like me. Of course, I’m not good enough for his brother. I don’t have a name worthy of this town. I don’t have a business waiting for me to be able to take over when I graduate. My parents didn’t donate thousands of dollars to the school. I’m a nothing. A nobody. And apparently, I’m not even worthy to fuck Sebastian for one night.

  I want to yell. I want to scream. Tell Kade he’s wrong. That Sebastian doesn’t deserve me. But I’ve lost my voice. I can’t whisper, let alone scream.

  I grab the white T-shirt and jerk it over my head as a pair of shorts falls to the floor. I march toward him, hoping I’m daring enough to speak when I’m right in his face. I open my mouth and nothing.

  He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest while he waits.

  I hate his smug expression. I may not be able to find the words, but my anger has focused elsewhere.

  I knee him hard in the balls and turn, unlock the door, and storm out. I hear him groaning in pain as I exit, and now it’s my turn to smirk.

  A smirk that is wiped from my face as I hear his words, “Sebastian definitely shouldn’t be with a woman like you. You’re the kind who would get pregnant after one fuck, and he’d be yours forever.”

  Tears. Damn tears.

  No.

  If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s not crying. Or caring. Or thinking about these foolish people. I don’t need their approval. I’m happy with who I am. I don’t want to be invited to their dumb parties. I don’t want one of their elites to be my first, or my second, or third.

  Kade did me a favor. I almost made a huge mistake giving Sebastian something so precious. He would have ruined me. And not in the ‘now I have high expectations for sex’ kind of way. He would have torn my heart to shreds when he made me realize he only fucked me because I looked hot for a moment in a dress, and I was his new infatuation. Or the more likely scenario, he was drunk and he’d already fucked all the women at his party.

  I’ll keep my virginity until I find a guy who thinks of me as somebody.

  I storm down the stairs, and I feel everyone gawking.

  Shit.

  I’m only wearing a white T-shirt and my panties. I didn’t think to pick up the shorts I dropped.

  I hear the snickers. This should be the most embarrassing moment of the night. It’s not. And I refuse to go back upstairs to put more clothes on. Not even to retrieve my dress and shoes I left upstairs. I refuse.

  Instead, I keep walking through the crowd searching for Serena, but I can’t find her anywhere. I didn’t bring my phone. There was nowhere to hide it in my dress, and I didn’t want to keep up with a purse. So I can’t call her or an Uber to take me home. Not that I could afford an Uber even if I had my phone.

  I should have waited for Kade to call me a car before I kneed him in the balls.

  I grin again, thinking about how he’s going to spend the rest of his night with an ice pack to his crotch.

  Worth it.

  I step out into the chilly night, my arms wrapping around myself and my legs sprouting goosebumps. My feet tingle from the cold concrete. When did it get so cold out? It’s almost May. It’s supposed to be warm.

  I look down the long driveway that leads to a dark street. I live four miles from here. It’s nothing, and if I jogged, I’d be home in twenty minutes.

  But I don’t have any shoes on.

  It’s cold.

  It’s dark.

  And I’m pissed and frustrated, when I should be satisfied and blissfully ignorant. I should be asleep upstairs in Sebastian’s bed.

  Instead, I’m walking home in the dark. Fuck my life.

  3

  Kade

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  My dick is hard, and for once in my life, I didn’t take advantage of a woman I desperately wanted. Her eyes were a fierce shade of blue, the curl in her shoulder length blonde hair hung loose, and her body, damn. Her abs alone had me drooling and wanting to fuck her without thinking about the consequences. Her muscles rippled through her body. I’ve never seen a more toned body on a woman. And I can only imagine the positions I could put her in.

  But she is too young and inexperienced for me. And I don’t do Sebastian’s sloppy seconds. I shouldn’t be hard.

  But I am. Painstakingly hard. I’m cursing for wearing such tight pants. I consider taking them off and jacking off, before heading back down, but I don’t have time.

  She kneed me in the balls, and yea, that hurt like hell, but it’s nothing compared to how my dick aches at not fucking her. Her body was screaming for me to fuck her. I should receive a medal for chivalry after this is all over. Sebastian would have fucked her and hurt her, I would have fucker her and demolished her.

  I jog out of the room to chase after her but stop after only making it to the door. I bend over trying to deal with the agony. Twinging, throbbing pain that won’t subside until I spend my night with an ice pack on my balls or by fucking a woman in my bed. I prefer the latter. At least if I’m fucking, my dick will stop suffering.

  Stop being a wuss.

  I force myself to start running again, and I jog down the stairs ignoring the torment, biting my lip, so I don’t let out girlish screams bursting to be let out with every step I take. Damn, Larkyn.

  The pounding in my head returns when I step foot back downstairs, the house full of beating music. I’m too old for this shit, I think. Most people are far too drunk at this point. Women are stripping, and I see more bras and exposed breasts than at a strip club. Men are taking advantage, pressing women up against walls, and trying to sneak them upstairs.

  Ugh.

  I like partying, but not like this. This is sloppy and gross. I much prefer to hang out in one of the bars I own. More control, and fewer teenagers.

  I step over a mountain of broken glass. Sebastian should learn to serve these idiots with solo cups. Someone always cuts themselves on the broken glass inevitably covering the floor after a dozen people drop their glasses because they’re too drunk to hold a fucking drink.

  Sebastian thinks because he comes from money all his parties need to be fancy. Why can’t he learn to have a college party without all the extravagance? It would suit these people better, no matter how they view themselves.

  I search the main floor and peak out into the backyard, but I don’t find Larkyn. She left. Had a friend take her home or called an Uber. Either way, she’s no longer my problem. I need to forget about her.

  I spot Sebastian out of the corner of my eye doing shots on Naomi’s stomach.

  I rub the back of my neck as I stare at him. He�
��s never going to grow up. At least he is playing with a woman who understands what’s at stake. She’s on an even playing field with Sebastian. Unlike Larkyn, who was clueless about what she was getting herself into.

  The TV is still hanging on the wall. Sebastian made it down in time to save his precious TV. And then, just as easily, forgot all about Larkyn. Idiot.

  Smooth hands dance over my chest and wrap tightly around my neck as a boa constrictor wraps around its prey.

  I pretend I can’t breathe, motioning with my hands to my neck that Harlow’s hands are too tight.

  She laughs but doesn’t loosen her grip on my neck.

  “You can’t resist me, so don’t pretend. I like playing this game we have going on between us, but don’t pretend we don’t both know how this is going to end. I’m going to be naked in your bed by the end of the night,” Harlow says.

  I frown. No way in hell is that happening. I fucked her once, months ago. And I knew the second my dick touched her pussy it was a mistake. The sex was good, if not forgettable. Normally, it would have been fine. I wouldn’t regret having sex with a woman as hot as Harlow, but fucking Harlow broke my one rule. I don’t fuck women from Santa Barbara.

  Women here aren’t like women in LA. Women in LA know I’m only good for one fuck, and then they need to move on to the next millionaire or billionaire. Here though, they become attached. They want more. Women here are bred to search for a man with a name they can pass to their children and continue the legacy. And I happen to have a very powerful name in this town.

  “Not going to fucking happen, Harlow. We had our one time, I don’t go back for a second round,” my voice sounds harsh, but I have to be cruel. She won’t get the message if I’m not.

  I untangle myself from her tentacles, as I try to disappear into the crowd. I should have stayed hidden in the shadows. I could watch the show without being noticed. But my brother had to go and be a dumbass and I have to save him, and the poor girl he almost ruined, like always.

  Harlow yells after me, but I keep moving, only stopping to grab a beer from one of the waiters. I need it if I’m going to survive the rest of the night. I’d rather have another whiskey, but I need to stay sober to keep Sebastian out of trouble. I need some alcohol to keep myself from going off on Harlow, though.

  Fuck this night.

  I shouldn’t have come back here, even if it was necessary.

  I think I’ve finally evaded Harlow when a new warm body presses up against mine.

  I don’t recognize the woman, but she reeks of alcohol and vomit. Not an endearing combination.

  I grab her shoulders to move her out of my way. She stumbles as I move her, and I hold her shoulder longer than I want.

  “Kade King, I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve had such a big crush on you.”

  “You should drink some water,” I say, flagging down a waiter and grabbing a glass of water to hand the woman.

  She grins.

  Shit, I know that grin. This is what I get for being nice and trying to help a woman.

  “I want to have your babies Kade King!” she says, screaming.

  My lips pull back tightly. I’m never coming to one of Sebastian’s ridiculous parties again. In fact, this might be the last time I visit this town.

  “Drink the water,” I say, glancing around for her date or a friend to pass her off to. A man is standing behind her, eyeing her. I don’t know if he’s her date or not, but she’s his problem now. I give him a, ‘take care of her, don’t fuck her,’ glare and push her into his arms.

  He looks happy, yet terrified. I roll my eyes and storm away. Welcome to my world.

  Why do women think I want a baby? I already have one dealing with Sebastian.

  I finish my loop around after thoroughly losing Harlow. I stand in the corner of the living room where Sebastian does another shot off Naomi, this time from between her boobs.

  I nurse my beer, trying to blend into the corner as I keep an eye on my brother. He’s done fucking everything up for me. This is the last major party of the year before graduation. He needs to make it through tonight without doing any damage.

  “We need to talk,” Harlow says, her body standing firmly in front of me, her hands crossed over her chest, and her face is fierce, in a don’t mess with me sort of way.

  I sigh as I glance at my brother grabbing Naomi’s hand and leading her toward the garage.

  Fuck.

  He tries to drive drunk every fucking time.

  Not going to happen tonight.

  “We can talk later,” I say, brushing past her rigid body.

  “I’m pregnant,” she says.

  FUCK.

  I stop dead in my tracks. I spin on my heels staring down at Harlow’s belly. She’s wearing her usual skin-tight dress that hugs her body like a second layer of skin. Her stomach is flat. Not even a hint of a bump.

  I close my eyes trying to focus on when the last time I had sex with her was. I know it’s been months, but when was it exactly… I rush through my flings over the last couple of months, and then I remember. It was the end of Sebastian’s Christmas break. Early January. I came back after the previous party got out of hand and he was arrested for drunk driving. I was pissed and needed to let off some steam. Harlow was who I let off steam on.

  It was definitely January. It’s April now. If she is pregnant, there is no way it’s mine.

  I open my eyes calmly. My body has been calm this entire time in fact. Hearing a woman say she’s pregnant would send most men’s balls straight up inside their body. It would stop their hearts along with their breathing. It would shatter their world so they couldn’t think straight or fuck another woman for months, even after the baby was confirmed not to be theirs.

  Hearing a woman say she is pregnant doesn’t have the same effect on me. Not because I want a baby. I sure as hell am not ready to be a father. But because I’ve heard the line used too many times. Women think they can trap a King if they say they are pregnant. I don’t fuck without protection. I don’t knock up women. And if she were pregnant, all my money and prestige would go to the baby, not her. I don’t want a relationship. That’s not who I am.

  I turn away from her, not bothering to give her another second of my attention. I need to find Sebastian before he ruins the King name, again.

  “Well? You’re really going to walk out on the mother of your child?” she says, grabbing my arm.

  I exhale to keep from pummeling her. I’m so tired of this shit.

  I turn and look at her with a glare, my nostrils flare, and my frown burrows. She takes a step back, her hand falling from my arm.

  “My lawyer will go with you to your next appointment to confirm you are pregnant.”

  She smiles brightly. She’s pregnant, or she wouldn’t be so smug about it.

  “And to take a paternity test.”

  Her smile drops, and fear flickers in her eyes. The baby isn’t mine. I don’t know if she can take a paternity test at this point, or if we’d need to wait until the baby is born. But I don’t have to wait. Her eyes confirmed what she wouldn’t tell me.

  In some weird way, I wish she was pregnant. Not because I want to deal with Harlow Hill for the rest of my life, but because if I had a child, an heir to my inheritance, maybe it would stop other women from trying so hard to make me theirs. If they realized Harlow was getting nothing, and I planned on turning my entire empire over to my first born, maybe the harassment would stop.

  I could put out in every interview I don’t want a sibling for my child. I don’t want children fighting over running my company the way Sebastian and I fought over my father’s. Maybe all this chaos would stop. Maybe having a child wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?

  My eyes bulge thinking about it. I’ve gone mad. Having a child would destroy everything I’ve worked to build on my own.

  I leave Harlow speechless, and I start jogging toward the garage, leaving my unfinished beer with a waiter on my way.

  Th
e Jaguar is gone. Shit.

  Every. Fucking. Time.

  I shake my head and run to my Aston Martin. My blood is boiling as I start the car up and zip out of the garage, dodging drunk college kids as I drive as fast as I can in the direction I know Sebastian drove.

  He’s predictable; I’ll give him that. Why can’t he be predictably responsible? The kind of kid who can throw a party without one issue. Where he fucks the women in his bedroom and passes out afterward. Like normal college students.

  The lawyer I hired shouldn’t have fought to scrub Sebastian’s last DUI from his record. Sebastian should have lost his driver’s license. Although, I doubt that would have stopped him. I should take his cars away, but he’d buy a new one.

  I’m installing one of those breathalyzer tests on his cars so his cars won’t start without him being sober. And since there are no sober people at his parties, he would never be able to leave.

  My face burns red, and I grip the wheel tighter when I spot his red Jag on Highway 101, leading toward his favorite cliffside spot overlooking the beach. Naomi is in the passenger seat, and he has his arm draped around her back.

  Why he thinks he needs to bring women here, I’ll never understand. He’s a King. Any woman at his party would fuck him. He doesn’t need to be charming or sober. He can be sloppy drunk, barely able to get his dick up, and any woman at his party would praise him for how great the sex was.

  I don’t think he does this to impress the woman. He does this to piss me off. He hates me trying to control his life, and this is his fucked up way of trying to fight back. That, and he likes his fast cars almost as much as he likes his women.

  I sigh.

  I don’t know how I’m going to let him take over any of my clubs. I want to give him one club. One single club. The one here in Santa Barbara. So there is no reason for me ever to return to this fucking town. And he can prove he is capable of doing more than finding trouble.

  Then, I might let him run a few more parts of the business. Maybe. Or he’ll decide he hates running a business and will live off his trust fund and name our father left us.