by Nikki Chase
It's not that I’m not aware of my sexuality, but I’ve only ever used it as a tool. I focused on making my appearance enticing to men in power. When I got the internship at The Goss, for example, I’m pretty sure the HR manager hired me so he could ask me out—which he did, a few times.
But my sexuality has never been something I enjoy for myself, and now Ethan's showing me how to do just that.
I raise my hips off the bed to let Ethan slide my jeans off, and he gives my nipple one last lick, flattening his tongue and brushing against the hardened little pebble. Then, he yanks off both my jeans and my panties, and I’m completely naked.
Ethan kneels between my legs and stares at my body as I lie before him, bared and vulnerable. Out of embarrassment, I pull my legs together. But Ethan places his hands on my thighs, keeping them spread.
“You’re going to keep these legs open for me,” he commands in a voice I can't say no to. He asks, “Is that clear?”
I nod.
“Good,” he says, his voice hoarse with desire.
I don't know where to focus. He makes every cell of my body come alive.
His blue eyes roams over my body, like he has just bought himself a new car and is now admiring it, like I belong to him and I please him. His erection strains the front of his jeans, mirroring the way my pussy is yearning for him, pulsing and throbbing.
I’m about to pull his pants off when he suddenly grabs my ankles and turns me over. I shriek again and he chuckles.
I push myself off the bed with my elbows, but Ethan grabs my wrists from behind me. He pins them against my own back and pushes me down.
“Bad kitty,” he whispers darkly in my ear as he hovers over me. “Stay still.”
I turn my head to the side. With my cheek against the soft bedsheets, I look behind me, but I still can't see him clearly.
I can feel him, though. Damn, can I feel him.
I shudder as he trails kisses up and down my spine. My heart races; I can’t tell where his lips are going to land next, and it keeps me guessing.
“You’re so wet you’re staining the bedsheets, kitten,” he says as he puts his hand over my pussy. “You’re enjoying this, aren't you?”
“Yeah,” I answer breathlessly.
Running his fingers between my folds, he continues to kiss my back.
With my hands restrained and my legs spread by Ethan's powerful thighs, all I can do is hold on as my body shudders from Ethan's skillful manipulation.
“Fuck, I love it when you do that.” I faintly hear Ethan unzip his pants, and I realize he's no longer restraining my hands. It only takes one of his fingers right on the hood of my clit to keep me still now. It's crazy how even the lightest touch from him affects me so much.
When he gets on top of me, his chest on my back, he's already naked. I can tell because his hot, hard cock slips between my thighs. He slides back and forth along my slit, teasing me as he grabs my hair and bites the back of my neck.
“Ethan,” I moan, spreading my legs wider for him. I clutch the bedsheets, letting his strength and sensuality overwhelm me.
“Tell me what you want, kitten,” he says, nibbling my earlobe.
“I want you inside me.” I don't know what comes over me, but I’ve lost all of my inhibitions. Now there's only one thing on my mind, one thing that I want. “Please, Ethan, I want you inside me.”
“As you wish,” he whispers. He lines the head of his cock against my opening and spears inside me, burying himself to the hilt. Unlike the first time, now he enters smoothly, aided by my overflowing wetness.
I whimper and quiver when as he slides in and out of me with his thick, hard cock. He thrusts at an angle so he's hitting me at my sweet spot.
“Fuck, kitten. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long. You’re so damn sexy.”
“Do it,” I sigh.
“Do what? What do you want?” Ethan asks urgently.
“Do it. Come inside me. Don't hold back.”
Ethan goes quiet, even though he keeps thrusting into me faster and harder. “And here I thought you couldn't talk dirty to me.”
“Fuck me hard, Ethan,” I moan desperately, ignoring his teasing. I want to be used. I want him to satisfy his lust with my body. Like a mantra, I repeat, “Fuck me hard and come inside me.”
Ethan gets up to his knees. I miss his weight and his warmth on my back. But by the way he’s roughly grabbing onto my waist with his powerful hands now, I know he's about to get serious.
He pins me down against the bed and pulls me back onto his cock. Soon, I’m crying out into the mattress, my body shaking uncontrollably as Ethan growls and slams into me again and again, until his whole body stills all of a sudden—only his cock continues moving, twitching and spurting inside me.
He leans his sweaty body on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight. He grabs my hair again firmly, although with no urgency this time. He whispers, “You little minx.”
I smile and reach behind me to stroke his thick, dark hair. My smile grows even wider when he sighs with contentment and drops his head on the bed.
“Don't ever leave again,” he says.
“I won't,” I blurt out before I can think.
When my brain starts working again, I realize with surprise that I mean it. It's not just the happy brain chemicals from my orgasm talking.
“I love you.” Ethan gazes softly into my eyes, looking strong and vulnerable at the same time.
“I love you, too,” I say.
Epilogue
Megan—One Year Later
“Megan, did you really use to think that being incarcerated meant being burned alive?” Penny asks, grinning at me mockingly as her little feet sink into the sand.
“Mom, what have you been telling her?” I ask, half-shouting so she can hear me. She's smiling in the sun as she gets closer, her skin still wet from having been in the resort swimming pool. She looks happier and more beautiful than I’ve seen her in years.
“Just some old stories,” she says.
“‘Incarceration’ and ‘incineration’ sound similar,” I say to Penny, shrugging.
“And to think I take grammar and vocabulary advice from you,” Penny says, shaking her head.
“Hey, that was a long time ago. I must've been, like, six,” I protest, getting defensive despite my attempt at staying cool.
“Twelve,” Mom corrects me.
“Hey, whose side are you on, Mom?” I ask. “Wait. Twelve, really? Damn.”
“Yes, honey, really,” Mom says, smiling as she turns around to follow Penny, who’s already laughing and wandering off toward the water.
When I turn to look at Ethan, he's grinning at me from his wicker lounge chair, which is identical to mine. “So did you think people got arrested and then burned alive?”
“Hey, I just used to misspell the words, okay? I didn't confuse the meanings.”
“Okay,” Ethan says, laughing as he moves his hair out of his face. I can't help but notice the wedding band on his finger—a mark that he's all mine. I still can't believe my luck sometimes.
Without thinking, my fingers rub my own wedding band. Not long after I moved back into our apartment, we decided to start wearing our wedding bands again. No pomp, no ceremony.
One morning, I just came across the rings in a drawer and said that we should start wearing them again. Ethan was happy to oblige.
“Are you sure you don't want a real wedding, kitten?” Ethan asks, as if he can read my mind.
This is not the first time he asks about having a “real wedding,” like a vow renewal and a reception. We’ve already had the paperwork taken care of the first time we got married in his office, so we won't have to repeat that.
“Yeah.” I’ve been telling him I’d rather use the time and money to travel as a family, which is why we’re here now.
“You know we can afford to have a family vacation and a wedding, right?” Ethan asks.
I laugh. “Yeah,
I know you have truckloads of money.”
“‘We,’” Ethan says, correcting me. “Whatever is mine is yours now. It has been one year, kitten. When are you going to realize that?”
“I don't know. Sometimes I just can't believe how lucky I am. Everything still seems like a dream.”
“It's okay. We have all the time in the world,” he says with a smile.
“Yeah.” I return his smile. We may not have exchanged any real vows, but I don't doubt for one moment that Ethan plans to stay in my life forever. “Real wedding” or not, he’s the love of my life. He's the person I want to grow old with.
What's a wedding for, anyway? I’ve seen too many dysfunctional marriages to believe in the institution. A marriage certificate didn't stop my dad from leaving.
We’re a family. Just another American family in the Caribbean, enjoying a vacation.
Right now, we’re just Ethan, Megan, and Penny. Oh, and my Mom—she’s the matriarch now that she has a step-grandchild.
Mom has never had the money to travel before, so I was ecstatic when Ethan said there's enough room for her in his—I mean our—private jet. She makes a great babysitter; it warms my heart to watch her play with Penny.
True to her words, Mom has been spending more time in the city, staying over every couple of weeks, giving Ethan and me some opportunities to be alone.
Mom has been making comments, comparing my relationship with hers. It's slowly dawning on her that she can do better than Frank, that she can hope for a healthy relationship like the one I have with Ethan.
I’m hoping this vacation will give her some space to think and make plans.
She's always welcome in our home, of course. But she’d probably want to keep her home and kick Frank out, and that’ll take some time. Luckily, we have Ethan’s team of lawyers on our side. Oops, I just did it again—our team of lawyers, I mean.
The legal team should be able to resolve things pretty quickly, even if they are getting busy with the upcoming case against Lucas Murdoch. At my urging, Ethan has been taking the complaints of people who were wronged by Primaland and having his lawyer prepare a case on their behalf.
Previously, he was worried that countering Murdoch’s attacks against him would incite him to do something worse and affect Penny in some way. But after lengthy talks with Penny, he realized that she’s old enough to understand what's going on, and she fully supports the lawsuit.
Taking care of Lucas Murdoch will take care of Ashley as well. Without his money and the might of his PR team behind her, there won’t be much she can do.
Hopefully, everything will go smoothly and we’ll be able to help everyone—my Mom, as well as Lucas Murdoch’s victims.
I think this experience has made Ethan more mindful of how his giant corporation can affect small, local businesses. Despite his shareholders’ protests, he has decided to scale down on his expansion plan so his team can conduct extensive research and make sure to take local communities into full consideration.
But whether we succeed or not, the main thing is that our little family is happy—including Mom, even if she's still technically living with Frank, at least for the next couple of months.
We’re happy, healthy, and we stick together.
After going through a few tumultuous years, I’ve learned not to take things for granted. There are always going to be problems in life—sometimes big and sometimes, thankfully, small. But with Ethan on my side, I feel like I can do anything.
Honestly, I haven't said this to anyone, but I'm even thinking about maybe having a baby with Ethan.
Wait, don't get excited yet. I said maybe. In the future.
I still want to focus my energy on my career right now; in fact, I’ve just gotten a pretty good internship at a broadsheet newspaper right here in San Francisco.
It's just that I’d never found the idea of parenthood to be appealing. But then I look at Penny and I think, maybe it wouldn't be so bad; maybe it would be pretty cool. Just accepting it as a possibility is a big step for me.
“What are you thinking about?” Ethan asks, looking at me with that smile that makes my knees go weak. Luckily for me, I’m reclining on a lounge chair on the beach, relaxed as can be.
“You,” I answer honestly. “And our future together.”
Ethan takes my hand and strokes the back of it with his fingers. Our gazes lock, and I know he's thinking the same thing: everything is perfect just the way it is, and we can’t wait to grow old together.
The End
Single Dad’s Fake Bride is also available in the Billionaires and Bad Boys Box Set, which contains SEVEN stand-alone (but related) romances and a bonus exclusive, never-before-published novelette, featuring the seven couples from the stories included in the box set:
Guilty
Stripped
His Virgin
Billionaire Protector
Virgin Fiancée
Single Dad’s Fake Bride
The Billionaire’s Bride
Bonus Novelette: After the Happily Ever After…
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Preview: After the Happily Ever After . . .
A Short Story
Megan
I hate my job.
And it’s not just because of the regular problems like low pay (although they pay me peanuts), over-packed schedule (although I feel like I work from the time I wake up and don’t stop until I go to bed), or demanding boss (although my editor expects perfection from underpaid writers).
Ugh. I hate my job even more now.
It’s a huge improvement over what I used to do, though, so maybe I’m just whining.
At the beginning of my writing career, I used to work at this magazine that wanted me to dig up dirt on Ethan and that was how we met. Of course, then I learned what an amazing person Ethan was, and I fell for him. Obviously, I didn’t want to write an exposé about him anymore.
But the magazine still ended up publishing an article about our relationship using the information I’d already sent them—without my permission.
I know, I know. It’s hypocritical to criticize them for doing something I once would’ve gladly done to get ahead in my career.
But I had reasons to hate Ethan at the time, however misguided. I was carrying out a personal vendetta against someone I thought was a monster. I wanted to stop him from hurting anyone else.
Joke’s on me because I fell in love with him instead. And now, after four years of our “fake marriage,” we’re still going strong.
On the other hand, the career I used to care about so much . . . I don’t like it as much anymore, even though I write serious articles for a serious publication now. As wise people say, the only constant in life is change.
And that’s why I’m wondering if it’s time for another change. A big one. The kind that would turn our lives upside down.
“We still have time, right?” Ethan asks as he pops his head through the doorway.
Sitting at the vanity table, I twist to look at Ethan.
Time for the kind of change I’m thinking about? Yeah, I guess we have plenty.
I’m about to open my mouth when I realize there’s no way Ethan could’ve read my mind. He’s my husband and my soulmate; he’s my best friend, and nobody knows me better than he does. But he’s no mind reader.
“For what?” I ask.
Ethan frowns, concern flashing in his eyes. “Do you even remember what you’re getting ready for?”
I stare at the brush and compact powder in my hands. That’s right, I’m not about to attend yet another B-rated movie premiere and interview a bunch of
“stars” whose names I’ve never heard. Lately, I’ve been zoning out at random times.
“Yeah, of course, I remember. I was just testing you,” I lie, grinning. I can’t talk to Ethan about what I’m thinking about. It’s not the kind of thing to bring up casually.
“Liar,” Ethan says as he enters our bedroom and walks toward me.
Does he know? My heartbeat speeds up as he approaches, even though he can’t possibly know. I haven’t told a soul.
I glance at him in the mirror while I squeeze some glue onto a strip of false lashes. I’m afraid if I look directly at him, he’ll know what’s on my mind.
“You’re lying.” Ethan comes up from behind me and wraps his strong, muscular arms around my shoulders. He kisses my temple. “You work too much, Megs. You haven’t been paying attention to anything else.”
I let out a silent, surreptitious sigh. That’s a relief. He thinks I’ve been thinking about work.
“I know,” I say, wiggling free from Ethan’s warm arms and leaning forward, closer to the mirror, so I can put on the lashes. “I’m sorry. Kerry just keeps dumping more and more work on me.”
“It’s the weekend. You should take it easy. Otherwise, you will burn out,” he says.
“I know.”
I recognize the signs, and it’s already starting to happen. There are days when it’s a struggle to even get out of bed in the morning, just because I know what I must face at the office.
At the same time, even when I can afford to take time off, my mind’s always plagued by deadlines, word counts, and interview notes. Then, I end up working anyway. Ethan always has to drag me, kicking and screaming, away from my desk in my home office if he wants me to spend time with him and Penny, although it’s not like she spends much time at home these days.
“I love watching you like this,” Ethan says when I take another glance at him. He smiles as he takes a seat on our bed.
“I’m just glad you’re not one of those guys who yell at their wives when they’re getting ready.” I can’t help but return his smile, despite the heavy thoughts swimming in my head. Ethan always makes me feel better when I get home from work, no matter what time it is.
