He groaned, lifting me so that we were facing each other, straddling each other as he rocked his hips, fucking me faster and faster as he started to give in to the animalistic desire to make me his own, to claim my womb for his heir. I wrapped my arms around him, holding on tightly. Waves of intense, almost unbearable pleasure ripped through my body. At this angle, his pelvis brushed against my sensitive clit with every motion, and it wasn’t long before I was crying out, shivering with orgasm.
“Oh God, it feels so good,” I sighed breathlessly. “Give it to me. Fill me up. I can’t wait to give you what you deserve. I want to give you a baby, Chase. Please.”
My words spurred him to move faster, to fuck me harder and harder until both of us were writhing, shuddering with every overwhelming spasm of bliss. Chase kissed me, his tongue probing into my mouth as we crashed against each other again and again. There was one singular motive, one shared desire above all others: to make a child. I found myself wanting it just as badly as I knew he did, and instead of frightening me, it only made the pleasure more intense.
A few more almost violent thrusts and Chase groaned, clutching me tightly as he released his seed deep inside my clenching pussy. We stayed that way for several minutes, wrapped in each other’s arms, breathing as one unit. I never wanted to let him go. This was the only place I ever wanted to be-- with Chase, in the rush of pleasure and emotions we had yet to name aloud.
But the weekend was over, and in the morning, he was on a plane back to Chicago.
21
Chase
I made my way down the windy streets of Chicago and stepped into one of my favorite coffee shops. It was a cozy little place that had been owned by the same family for generations, and it still had the best brew on this side of town.
There was no better cure for a chilly winter’s day away from my wife.
“Hey hey, Mr. Hawthorne,” one of the baristas who knew me greeted me with a friendly smile. “The usual?”
“You know it, Brian,” I replied with a curt smile.
While I waited for my order, I peered out the glassy window. All I could think about was how much I wished I could show this place to Haley.
I had to clear my mind of all this crap. I had barely been back in Chicago for a day on my usual business, but more and more, the time I spent away from her ate away at me. I thought about calling her to check on how things were going at the Peppertree, and between those times, I thought about bringing her up to Chicago and showing her around.
I loved our wild, lust-crazed sex sessions, and every time I thought about that curvy body growing a bump with my child, I wanted her right then and there. But the more time she spent in my mind, the more I wanted something more with her.
This was a fake marriage, I reminded myself. Those words, fake marriage, kept popping up in my head like stop signs. The more they did, the more they pissed me off.
I got what I wanted in life, always. What I wanted was sex and an heir.
So, why did I have to keep telling myself that was all I wanted?
“Mr. Hawthorne?” the barista repeated, and I snapped out of my trance to turn around and face him. He was holding out my coffee with the usual gruff smile on his face.
“Oh, right. Thanks, Brian, put it on my account.”
“Already taken care of, sir.”
I left a $100 in the tip jar and started to head for the exit when I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket.
It was my mother.
I furrowed my brow. She usually didn’t call unexpectedly, but it wasn’t too out of the ordinary. I had always been on good terms with my mom, and after Dad passed away, it only made all of us siblings closer to her.
“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her. I took a seat at the bar by the window instead of going outside. There were enough people in the cafe to give me some white noise, and it was a little quieter than the wind and traffic outside. “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” she snapped, and I stiffened. I knew that tone well. “I should be asking you what’s up, Chase Hawthorne!”
I furrowed my brow. “Is...am I missing something?”
“I don’t know, but I’m apparently missing an invitation to the wedding you just had!”
My face went pale. How on earth did she find out about that? I clenched my jaw. She kept abreast of a lot of my business ties, so it probably got to her through the grapevine without too much trouble. I should have thought of that.
“Ah, that,” I started, trying to think of a string of excuses. “Okay, first of all, I promise you I didn’t intentionally leave you out. Nobody was invited, it was a quick, private marriage. Kind of a spur of the moment thing.”
“That’s not like you at all, Chase,” she pointed out, but there was a resigned tone in her voice. “What on earth would possess you to do something like that with a relative stranger?”
“She’s not exactly a stranger, actually,” I corrected her with a smile. “Do you remember Haley, the girl I was seeing back in college?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Really?” she mused, suddenly sounding a little less scornful. “Hm. I always did think she was a sweetheart, I never understood why you two broke up.”
“Me either,” I confessed, and that much was actually true. “We met over some business deal, we kind of reconnected, and...well, one thing led to another.”
My mom sighed deeply, but she didn’t sound like she was furious anymore, which was about as much of a victory as I could hope for in this situation.
“Well, you’ve always had your father’s good instincts, I can’t deny that. It sounds like you know what you’re doing, even if I still think it was a little hasty. Still, I can’t believe you wouldn’t even bother to invite any of the family. I’ll tell you what--I’m going to throw a reception for you two.”
My eyes went wide. “Mom, that’s really not necessary.”
“Oh, it is,” she affirmed in a warning tone. “If we can’t at least be there for the ceremony, I want everyone to have some excuse to meet the mother of my future grandchildren. Besides, I want to see how that little girl has grown up since college.”
I thought hard and fast for a moment. I could probably worm my way out of this if I tried hard enough, but then it occurred to me that something like this would absolutely help the marriage seem more legitimate. It was hard to sell the idea that I had just married on a whim and not invited anyone, when I came from as powerful a family as I did.
A hasty reception after a hasty marriage, though, was a little easier to make the relatives happy.
“Okay, I think we can manage that,” I agreed at last.
“Good. I’ll start setting things up,” she chimed, that same old energy I knew so well in her voice. “A lot of the family is in town already for another get-together, so I can have things ready next weekend.”
“Next w-” I nearly choked on my coffee, eyes going wider. “Does it need to be that soon?”
“Did your wedding have to be this soon?” she fired back, and I knew she had me.
“Alright, fair enough, Mom.”
“I’ll send you the details as soon as I have them,” she chimed again. “See you soon, hon.”
As soon as she hung up the phone, I stared at it ruefully. With everything else that was going on with the renovations on the other resorts besides the Peppertree, setting this up last minute and finding time for it was going to be a challenge, to say the least.
And I hadn’t even told Haley yet.
Deliver bad news early and often was a philosophy that had served me well in the past, so I called up Haley immediately as I swirled what was left of my coffee around in my cup.
“Hey,” her voice purred the moment she picked up the line. That voice made my heart skip a beat.
She didn’t have to talk like that when we weren’t together. There was no chance we were about to try for the baby that held this fake marriage together, so there was no reason for her to get me turned o
n like that.
“You enjoy tormenting me like that when I can’t get close enough to tear your clothes to shreds again?” I murmured in a low whisper, making sure nobody in the shop was in earshot.
“Maybe I do,” she teased. “How else do you expect me to get you to hurry back here?”
I cocked a smile and opened my mouth to say something back just as teasing, but I paused and took a breath.
“Actually, you’re going to be the one coming to me, this time.”
It was her turn to pause. “What do you mean?”
“We’re having a wedding reception.”
“Come again?” There was some sudden anxiety in her voice.
“I don’t like the idea either, but my family found out about our wedding,” I explained. “They’re upset that nobody was invited, so they want to have this so I can introduce you to the family and let you meet everyone.”
“Oh my God,” she groaned, and I could hear her put her elbow on her desk, and I could picture her resting her head in her hand. “Chase…”
“I know.”
“Chase, that’s going to make things so much harder for the divorce,” she complained, and she had a point. “I cannot tell you how much I hate disappointing people. This is just going to be us lying through our teeth to a room full of your family.”
“They’re nice enough people. And you definitely won’t be the only divorcee-to-be in that room.”
She groaned, obviously not comforted by that.
“I’ll tell you what,” I offered, using the most reassuring tone I possibly could. “If you do this with me, I’ll pull some of the best designers I have from my other projects and assign them to the Peppertree for the year. These are top-notch architects from the Sorbonne in Paris. What do you say?”
There was a long pause from the other end of the line. I felt bad for Haley that she couldn’t drink at a time like this.
“Deal,” she agreed at last.
I smiled. “The plane will pick you up on Friday.”
“I want some good in-flight food,” she warned me, and I grinned.
“Deal.”
22
Haley
By the time Friday rolled around, I was a total and complete wreck.
It was a combination of many, many factors that had turned my week so sour. First of all, it had been much more difficult than expected to say goodbye to Chase Monday morning. Especially after the powerful, emotional sex we’d had together Sunday evening. All that night we had slept curled up close to each other, totally naked under the heavy sheets while the fire crackled pleasantly in the background. When I had awoken Monday morning to an empty bed, and turned to see Chase hurriedly getting dressed and packing for his flight, my heart sank. He didn’t let me even get out of bed, telling me to stay warm and comfy while he headed out. With one last tender kiss, he had left me tangled up in the sheets alone, wondering how in the world I was going to face an entire week without my new husband.
My fake husband, I reminded myself for the zillionth time.
Over the course of the week, we had been in constant touch. Chase called me before work to say good morning every day and he called every evening to talk about our day and say goodnight. Throughout the day, we sent each other countless text messages and photos. I sent him pictures of the plans drawn up for renovations around the Peppertree, designs for the interior suites and numbers-crunching for the ski lift and the touch-ups to the landscaping. We collaborated on research for a Michelin chef who would be willing, for the right paycheck, to come in and painstakingly train each of my admittedly not-so-great kitchen employees. And in between the business-related messages, we joked around and flirted, just like old times.
It was nice, having someone to check in on me, who actually seemed to give a damn about the Peppertree, about my day. Of course, my mother and Beverly cared about me, but they had their own lives to worry about. Beverly was hard at work in medical school, and my mother did everything in her power to avoiding visiting or even discussing the resort. I understood why: the painful memories were still too much. But having Chase to talk to reminded me of just how lonely I was before.
And then, of course, when he called me to break the news that his mother wanted us to have a “real” wedding for friends and family… well, that was a kick to the gut. I had not planned on having to take my Genuine Newlywed act all the way to the main stage. But I suppose it had been foolish of me to assume we could just quietly pass the whole year without some drama. And naturally, my mother wanted in on the event, too. And Beverly. And my mother’s friends and family, none of whom I had even spent any time with in years.
As I got in the taxi to drive to the airport with my luggage, I felt sick to my stomach. I could not imagine how awkward and painful this was going to be. Having to pretend our marriage was genuine and not just a gigantic ruse, a business deal. This was going to take all my wits, all my restraint. At the airport, I almost missed my flight. I walked aboard as they were making the final calls, and when I settled into my first class seat-- paid for by Chase-- I was shaking, and not from the cold.
To my relief, it was a relatively smooth flight. The inclement weather hardly affected the jet, and I spent the three-hour flight rehearsing ways to explain how Chase and I met, how we decided to get married on a whim, how happy we were together. At least the last part wasn’t going to be one giant lie. I was happy with Chase, if a little nervous about the future. At the present moment, I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. It was almost as if no time had passed between our college days and today. He was still the same brilliant, witty, devilishly handsome man he was then, only now he was more mature and even sexier. I wondered how much I had changed. I hoped it was a good change. I made a mental note to ask Chase when I got the chance.
When I landed at the O’Hare airport, I turned my phone back on to receive a barrage of voicemails and text messages from everyone. Well-wishers, relatives and friends telling me they couldn’t wait to meet my new husband. And of course, a text message from Chase informing me that he had sent a car to pick me up and take me to his penthouse.
That was the word he used. Penthouse.
I got off the plane and collected my luggage, then walked outside to meet the car he had arranged to pick me up. Chicago was windy, of course, and cooler than I had expected, but still not too bad considering that I was used to the Colorado cold. I fastened my scarf more tightly around my neck and put on my faux-leather gloves, standing on the pavement and looking around for a black sedan. Naturally, there were many of those, and I had trouble determining which one was mine. Finally, a man got out and called to me by name, and I got into the back seat gladly.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Haley. My name is Jeremy. I’m Chase’s driver,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand for me to shake. I smiled and shook his hand.
“Great to meet you, too,” I said warmly. “So, how far is the drive?”
“Oh, not far. Not far. Mr. Hawthorne lives in River North, about a twenty-minute drive, providing that traffic isn’t too wild. Just sit back and relax. I’m sure you must be exhausted after your flight,” he told me, pulling the car out onto the highway. I almost snorted. Actually, it had been years since I last flew first-class, so my flight had been pretty pleasant, but I didn’t tell him that. I had a feeling most of the snobby people Jeremy worked for would consider first-class not good enough, still find something to complain about. I, however, had found it pretty awesome.
It only took us a little longer than twenty minutes to reach Chase’s penthouse, and I spent the whole ride staring out the window in awe. In all the travels we’d gone on as a family when I was younger, I had never been to Chicago before. It was bigger than I had imagined. Taller. Grander in every way. I was used to the sprawling expanse of the Colorado countryside, so the cityscape was like a brand new world to me.
Upon arriving, Jeremy helped me out and carried my bags into the building, where he handed them, and me, off on the bus b
oy. I was amazed that Chase’s building was fancy enough to have an entire staff waiting to take care of its residents. Even at the height of my father’s success, we had never been this level of wealthy. Chase lived like a prince right here in the middle of the windy city. I waved goodbye to Jeremy and headed up in the sleek glass elevator, to the very top floor with exclusive rooftop access. Every tiny detail of this place looked like a movie set, like the kind of place James Bond would live. It was truly mindboggling.
When we reached Chase’s floor, the busboy knocked, and Chase came to answer with a huge grin on his face. He pulled me into a tight hug, tipped the busboy, and shut the door behind me. “I cannot even tell you how happy I am to see you, Haley,” he told me.
I couldn’t help but smile back, even though I was so nervous my stomach was in knots.
“I missed you this week,” I confessed.
“I missed you, too. It’s still unbelievable to see you here in my own place. If someone had told me a week ago that I would have the beautiful and enigmatic Haley Simmons standing in my foyer, I would have scoffed. But here you are. More gorgeous than you were when I saw you last. I don’t understand how you do that,” he praised me. I blushed and looked away, unaccustomed to such overflowing kindness.
“Come in, come in. Get comfortable. We’ve got some time to relax before all the hectic activity begins,” he declared, ushering me into the vaulted living room. My jaw dropped as I looked around. This place looked like a modern art museum. Everything was exquisitely styled, spotlessly clean, and it suited Chase to the letter.
“Wow,” I breathed, spinning in a slow circle to look around. “This is unbelievable.”
“Oh, you like it? Sometimes I think it’s too much. My designers went a little crazy with this space. I did give them free rein, but some of the modern style is a little cold for my taste,” he commented. He walked into the kitchen and came back out with a bottle of wine in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. I laughed.
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