My Playboy Fiance: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance

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My Playboy Fiance: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance Page 32

by Katerina Cole


  I was tired of his bullshit. “Just tell us what the fuck you have to say, Steve,” I barked. “We signed your damn NDA. You can cut the threats.”

  He groaned. “You need to realize how serious this is. Because once I tell you what is at stake, it’s going to change the course of the Warriors. This season isn’t going to be like any of the others.”

  I leaned forward on the conference table. The bastard had my curiosity at an all-time high.

  “It’s already unlike the others,” I snarled.

  Take it easy, Isaac. I have spoken to Ms. McCade today. I’m aware a lot of you had meetings with her too.”

  I felt a strange jolt of jealousy from out of nowhere. I didn’t like the idea of all these guys being alone with her in her office.

  “We have agreed to launch a media public relations campaign that will help us sell tickets. The more tickets we sell the better our TV ratings will be. And the better game times and networks we will get. That means better advertising spots. All of this comes down to money, gentlemen. This is about money. Your money. Plain and simple.” He pressed his palms onto the table, rocking his small body toward us.

  “Get to it, we’re aging here,” Dylan joked. He let the front of his chair legs push off the floor. I knew he took his position on the team seriously, but he didn’t put up with bullshit meetings like this. He was too stir crazy to sit through corporate talk.

  But what Steve said next grabbed everyone’s attention.

  “I need one of you to be, Vanessa McCade’s fiancé for this Warriors’ football season.”

  “What!” I was the first to speak up.

  Dylan slammed his fist on the table. “What are you talking about, man? Don’t say shit like that. We’re listening. You have our attention without making up shit. What’s this really about?”

  Steve didn't let up. “She’s available. She needs a fiancé for the season. I should say, the Warriors need her to have a fiancé for this season, and that fiancé is going to be one of you. Now you all can decide in this room who that man will be, or I will choose one of you.”

  I didn't know how many of the men had met Vanessa today, or if they’d even seen a picture of her. Hell, most of these guys were friends. We were a brotherhood. None of the ones among us were married or in serious relationships, and there was a reason for that. We liked to fuck. When and where we wanted. Life was easier with no strings attached. No one wanted to be a fucking fiancé.

  I heard the guys around me groaning and growling. They weren’t interested. But then Rocks Salzman raised his hand. “I’ll do it. She's damn hot. It does mean I get to fuck her, right?”

  Steve laughed. “That's up to you two. It’s not a requirement. But thanks for stepping up, Rocks.”

  “Wait,” I growled. “That’s not happening.”

  “Yeah, it’s not," Dylan agreed. “Sorry, Rocks. You’re out.”

  I looked at my best friend, and realized he was being just as protective of Vanessa as I was. I didn’t know where it was coming from, other than Dylan was highly competitive. He didn’t like to lose at anything.

  Rocks snarled, “I volunteered first guys. She’s as good as mine. You’re looking at the new fiancé of the Warriors’ owner.” he laughed. I was tempted to throw myself across the table and punch him to the ground. I didn’t like how they talked about her.

  She wasn’t here to defend herself. How did we know any of this was legit?

  “I don't think that’s how it works. Steve said we had to decide together. And I'm not letting you walk out of here as her fiancé,” I taunted.

  Dylan leaned forward. “Neither am I. Rocks. It’s not happening.”

  He glared at both of us. “Are you two going to share her? Because I don't think you can split a woman down the middle. She needs one fiancé, not two.”

  “You’re a dick,” Dylan spat.

  I bared my teeth at him. “You’re not getting her.”

  “Why? Because you’re suddenly so interested in warming up to someone? You’re a cold-ass washed-up Seal.”

  I jumped from my chair, clambering to get my hands around his neck.

  “Shit, Isaac.” Dylan yanked on my bicep, holding me back.

  Steve laughed. “Wow. I wasn't expecting this. What if we settle this like gentlemen? Why don’t you take a seat, Isaac?”

  I tried to settle my pulse, and sat in the seat again.

  Rocks took his eyes off me for a second. “What's your idea Steve?”

  “We’re all doing this for the good of the organization.”

  “That’s what you keep telling us,” one of the tight ends made his voice carry over the scuffle.

  “Then why don’t you make a personal investment in the team. Let’s see how much this actually means to you.”

  “What are you saying?” I pushed him. I didn’t like the games he played.

  He grinned. “A gentlemen’s auction. We’ll start the bidding at a thousand.”

  Dylan’s hand shot. “I’m in.”

  I stared at him. “You’re going to bid for her?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Rocks called out. “Two thousand.”

  It happened so fast, I didn’t have time. My hand was up next. “Five thousand.” I glared at Rocks over the table.

  Dylan chimed after me. “Fifty-five hundred.”

  Rocks exhaled. “Fine. I'll go up to six grand.”

  A few of the other guys threw bids in. We were up to fifteen thousand. Steve looked pleased with himself. I didn’t know where we would land, but I knew between Dylan and me we had a pretty good chance of keeping Vanessa out of Rocks’ hands.

  The rest of the guys moved out of the way as the bidding got too rich for their blood. One came back from the locker room with a bottle of bourbon. And someone else broke out a box of cigars. The last time we were together like this was Luke’s bachelor party.

  Although, now one of us was ready to give up being a bachelor even if it wasn't for real.

  Steve looked pretty damn pleased with himself for concocting this entire scheme.

  I wanted to ask Dylan how high he was willing to go. But I kept upping the bet every time Rocks raised his hand. Damn him.

  “Gentlemen,” Steve taken his role seriously. “We’re up to almost thirty grand. Do you want to keep going, or is Isaac the lucky winner?”

  “Hell no,” Rocks growled.

  “I’m still in,” Dylan reported.

  Fuck. I didn’t know how much longer we would up the money like this. And what was the point? Did I really care about the Warriors? Or did I just want to make sure an asshole like Rocks wasn’t the one who spent the season with Vanessa?

  Hell, I’d only spent an hour with the woman. That was it. And I was acting as if I had to defend her. Protect her. Like our meeting meant something. It didn’t mean a damn thing, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted her. I wanted to walk out of this room the highest bidder. The winner. The man who would take Vanessa McCade for the entire season.

  Dylan grinned. He had the worst fucking poker face. “I can do this all night. You up for it, Rocks?” He looked at Steve. “Forty thousand.”

  “Fifty,” I cast another bid for her.

  “You two are fucking crazy,” Rocks groaned. “No woman is worth that much. I’m out.”

  “So I’m the winner?” I smiled.

  “It appears so,” Steve agreed.

  “Not so fast, brother.” I stared at Dylan. Slowly he raised his hand above the table. “Seventy-five thousand.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged. “Are you going to bid again?” he dared me. “You know I don’t like to lose. I’ll keep going.”

  I shook my head. “If you want her that badly, I’m out.”

  “So, I guess I have a fiancé.” He slapped me on the back. And I suddenly realized, I had just lost her.

  9

  Vanessa

  I realized sleep wasn't an option for me. Too much had happened at the offices today. My mind rac
ed with the conversations I’d had with all the people I’d met, while still trying to get my feet on the ground. It was hard to think that was ever going to happen. My grandfather had run the team as if it were a hobby. Maybe that's why it was in the shambles that it was. Or maybe that was the secret. I needed to care less. Worry less.

  I padded to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. I drank it much too fast. The dizzying effect went straight to my head before tingling through my fingertips. Sure, there was a lot to think about. But there was only one thing I couldn't get over. I had agreed to Steve’s insane plan. A plan that would tie me to a man for the entire season.

  Right now, he was somewhere deciding who would be my fiancé. What if it was someone I hated? What if it was someone I couldn't stand to be around? For the full season, I was going to have to do fake interviews and photo shoots with a man I didn't like. I chugged the wine faster.

  I poured a second glass, my hands shaking with nerves. It hadn’t happened yet. All I had to do was go to work tomorrow and tell him the plan was off. There would be no fake engagement. No fake wedding, no fake proposal. I could control this. I was the Warriors’ owner now. I was in charge or Steve and every one of those players.

  I wandered out of the kitchen and toward the living room, clutching the glass of wine in my hands. I turned on the TV, but the first story that popped up was about the Warriors new ownership. I cringed. I hated hearing stories about myself. It was a hot topic in Austin. With only two weeks until opening day, the fans wanted some kind of certainty. They needed to know there was leadership. But I wasn't leadership. I’d never managed anything in my life. I liked to work independently. I loved working with my hands in the studio. I loved studying art and artists. I hadn’t been able to find the beauty in men chasing after a ball on the field. I couldn’t see the art in them pounding each other into the ground. In fans screaming and hollering for more violence. Football was the opposite of grace and artful lines.

  But I couldn't lose sight of the fact that everyone was counting on me. This fake engagement might be the only thread of hope holding the season together.

  I couldn’t believe it, but I was going to have to go through with it.

  There was the possibility my fiancé could be someone I liked. For an instant, I let myself fantasize that it was Isaac Price. I leaned into the cushions of the couch, imagining his dark eyes raking over my breasts. My freehand traveling across my body. A small sigh escaped my lips. Would it be so bad to be fake engaged to Isaac? To be next to a man that looked like sex on a stick? A man who held the highest completion rating last season?

  My hands roamed freely over my breasts and stomach, pretending for a moment that Isaac was here. And then I giggled. And instead of Isaac’s eyes, I saw the light green hue of Dylan’s gaze.

  What if Dylan was the fiancé? What if the brash cocky player was on my arm every night at all the black-tie events I had to attend? What if he was the one who took me home?

  My hands traveled farther south as my knees fell to the side. I didn't know when it happened but I placed the glass of wine on the coffee table and let my second hand join in. One was traveling low between my legs while the other traveled to my nipple. My mind twisted the two men together. As if one hand belonged to Isaac and the other to Dylan. Trading places. Exploring my body. Each hand, like each man taking and making me his. The blinds were drawn. The doors were locked and the security system was armed. I needed this. I needed alone time to forget the weight of the world. To forget the pressure and the undeniable responsibility I had.

  I was just drunk enough to stay on the couch and not hide under my covers. I pushed my tank top toward my collar bones, letting the cool air brush over my breasts. I wondered what Isaac and Dylan would think of my nipples. Would they want to taste them? Bite them?

  Oh God. My hand dipped between my legs, pulling and tugging at the lace of my panties so it rubbed my clit. It was just enough friction to make my hips jut back and forth. I yanked again, this time a little more forcefully as if Dylan were here. I imagined he would be impatient to make me come.

  He would want to make my clit throb and pulse for him. He’d say dirty things. He’d tell me to do things to him, I’d never tried before. I slid a finger inside myself slowly, caressing my walls. I squeezed around it. Oh, shit. I could only imagine the taste of Isaac on my lips. I pictured his dark broody stare. I wondered what his deep voice would sound like in my ear. I wanted to know what he’d tell me to do. What things he would say made him hard. Would he want to lick me? My fingers pumped faster, making a rhythm that needed all my attention. I rubbed the lace over my clit. One man inside me. One man teasing the rest of me. Oh, God, yes. Yes. I wanted them both touching me. Moving inside me. Watching me. Telling me how dirty and hot I was. How my body made them hard as steel. So fucking hard.

  I never climaxed this quickly on my own, but it was like an avalanche. My hands raced over my body, trying to coax it to an orgasmic peak. I flashed between Dylan and Isaac. I couldn’t settle on one. They were woven into one epic man. The fantasy tore through me as I convulsed around my fingers.

  I panted silently, closing my eyes.

  What was that? I breathed deep gulps of air.

  I let my hand slide from my soaked panties and rest on the flatness of my stomach. I had actually lost it. I had lost it.

  I picked up the wine glass and dumped the rest in the sink. I needed a shower and bed. I had to put an end to this tomorrow.

  No more meetings with players. No fake engagements. I’d put the team back together another way. Charlie Maine could help me. I made a mental note to call her first thing in the morning as I climbed in bed.

  But my body still buzzed from the orgasm and as exhausted as I was, those green eyes and that killer smile haunted me. My lids grew heavy and I thought I heard Isaac’s husky voice. It might have been minutes or hours, but I wrestled with my impulses toward those men until I finally fell asleep.

  10

  Dylan

  I couldn’t believe it. I felt pretty damn good about what had just happened. Rocks was pissed.

  Steve looked at me. “Congratulations, Dylan. Looks like you will be spending your season with Vanessa McCade.”

  I knew I should have felt like I had just been shackled. But I didn’t. In some way, I felt like I had a complete victory. She was mine and she didn’t even know it yet. No one actually expected me to be committed to one woman for the season. That was damn crazy.

  The other guys began to shuffle out of the room, a few of them looked relieved they hadn’t been tapped for the job. Isaac stayed behind.

  He waited until everyone was gone and then he turned on me.

  “You don't seriously want her, do you?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I just dropped seventy-five grand.”

  “Because you always dick around. You fuck anything in a skirt. How do you think you’re going to handle being a fiancé for an entire season?” I heard anger in his voice.

  “Because it’s fake, man. I’m not actually engaged. I can do whatever I want—including her.”

  Isaac looked annoyed. I had seen that look on his face before usually before he threw a punch.

  I stared at him. “You want her?”

  “Damn it, Dylan.”

  I couldn’t believe this shit. “You want Vanessa McCade. You have a little crush don’t you?”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  I laughed. It was hard to get under his skin. He was like an iceberg, until now.

  “Say it and I’ll shut up.”

  He glared at me. “Hell yes I do. Why do you think I kept bidding?”

  It wasn’t funny anymore. “Fuck. I thought you were just trying to piss off Rocks.” I ran my hand over the back of my neck. “We’ve never fought over a woman before. We don’t do that shit.”

  Isaac shook his head. “No we haven’t. And I don’t want to start now. Not with the season so close. And not with a woman we both only met this morning.”

&
nbsp; I sat in the chair, feeling the weight of my shoulders slide down my back. “I didn't realize she could cause us a problem. I thought it was fine. And I wasn’t about to let Rocks win.”

  Isaac sat next to me. “We couldn’t let Rocks have her. That wasn't going to happen.”

  “What do we do? I’m out seventy-five grand.”

  Isaac looked at the ceiling. There was chipped paint and in the corners part of the sheetrock had crumbled. “There's nothing to do. You won. She’s yours. Congratulations on your engagement.” He slapped me on the back.

  I looked at my best friend. It was hard not to laugh at how fucked up this entire situation was. I didn’t want to be engaged. I wanted to fuck her. And this was my best chance. Isaac obviously felt the same way.

  “Want to grab a beer?” Isaac asked.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, standing. “We need a few after this hell of a night.”

  “But there’s one thing.” He stopped me.

  “What’s that?”

  He paused. “You have to tell me what an amazing fuck she is. I want every dirty detail. Everything.”

  For a second I felt guilty. Guilty that I may have taken away his chance for an incredible fuck. I nodded. “Every fucking detail, man. I swear.”

  Isaac grinned. “And maybe I can propose when you break it off,” he joked.

  “Don’t feel bad. Candy would be happy to keep you company this season.” I waggled my eyebrows.

  He groaned. “No thanks. She’s more your type than mine.”

  “Come on, beer and I think this might be my last night of freedom,” I joked. That wasn’t going to happen.

  Isaac looked at me suspiciously. “You’re serious?”

  “No. I’m always going to be a free man. Maybe if I’m lucky, I can take two home tonight.” I flashed a smile.

  Isaac shook his head as we walked toward the parking garage.

  11

  Vanessa

  I wasn’t a pacer. I never paced. But this morning it was all I could do. The edges of my high heels dug into the cheap carpet behind the desk. If I kept up this speed I would wear a track on one side of the office.

 

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