Dillon: A Fake Marriage Shifter Romance (The Johnson Clan Book 4)

by Terra Wolf

  I jerked my neck sideways. “How the hell should I know? What could be so wrong if you were?”

  “What would Julie do to me?” she asked.

  “Julie!” I snorted. “What’s Julie got to do with this?”

  She lowered her eyes again, and the glass window came down between us. “Forget it.”

  “I will not forget it,” I ranted. “What, I might ask, does Julie have to do with this? What does Julie have to do with anything?”

  She fixed her eyes on me, but those eyes chilled me to the bone. I barely recognized her. “Julie said if I did anything to sully your reputation, she would nullify the contract. She would withdraw all the compensation you’re paying me to marry you. She would take away all my spending account money—everything—gone.”

  “So, what?” I shot back. “You’re not pregnant, so what difference does it make?”

  She threw up her hands. “Forget it. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  I flung myself back in my chair and scowled at her. She looked sideways at nothing. She didn’t even look at her menu.

  I made a show of studying the entree section. “What are you going to have?”

  She wadded up the napkin in her lap and threw it on her plate. “You know what? I don’t feel very good. I’ve got a stomach ache. We’ve put in our appearance for this week. Can’t we please go home early? I want to go to bed.”

  My mouth fell open. “You want to go home? But the night hasn’t even started yet.”

  “I know.” She stood up. “Can’t we please just go? I don’t want to be here right now.”

  She didn’t wait for me to get up and escort her. She just walked straight out the back door of the restaurant, leaving me no choice but to follow. She had to stand on the sidewalk in the fresh night air while we waited for the limo to come around and pick us up. She trained her face into the breeze and wouldn’t look at me.

  I stared at the back of her head. What in the world was wrong with her? Everything went so great this last month, and she changed overnight. Now she gave me the cold shoulder. When I took her hand, her fingers hung cold and limp in my grasp. None of the warmth infused her touch and the inner light that used to shine out of her no longer radiated in my direction.

  My bear’s anxiety grew. What was going through Bianca’s mind? I had to know. What started as a business arrangement had quickly grown into something more. I could feel my bear’s pull toward her, unlike any other woman I had ever been with. I wanted to hold her again, calm the tension that was obviously present, but the only return I got was the cold shoulder.

  She didn’t linger when she got out of the limo. She usually hesitated to hold my hand so we could enter the penthouse together. Now she marched to the elevator cocooned in her frigid isolation. When the elevator opened in the penthouse foyer, she made a beeline for the bedroom.

  I hung back to see what she would do. When I got to the bedroom, I met her coming out of the bathroom in a large white terry cloth bathrobe. She clutched the lapels together under her chin. She wound up her hair in a loose knot on top of her head, crawled into bed still bundled in the robe, and pulled the feather comforter up around her chin.

  I toppled onto the bed next to her. I bent close to murmur in her ear. “Hey, baby. Come over here and let me make you feel better. You know I can give you what you need.”

  She closed her eyes. She turned over on her side, so she presented her back to me. “I can’t tonight. I’m too tired. I just want to go to sleep. Sorry, baby. Have a good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She didn’t move again. I reclined back on the pillows and scowled at her bunch of hair sticking out from under a mountain of down. I couldn’t see any other part of her. Why was she acting so weird all of a sudden?

  I might think she came down with a cold or something, but the way she acted around that reporter made me wonder. She only got weird when he mentioned the pregnancy rumor. Something fishy was definitely going on, and I’d be blamed if I sat back on my hands without finding out what it was.

  12

  Bianca

  I sat at my dressing table and studied myself in the mirror. I made sure to hide the pregnancy test I took three days ago. Finding the spare time to sneak away from Dillon to buy the thing and then take it back to the penthouse proved a much bigger challenge.

  Now I couldn’t do anything but sit here and stare my problem straight in the face. The rumor was true. I was pregnant. I could only hope that the rumor about twins wasn’t true as well. Now how in God’s name could I break the news to Dillon?

  I hated to look him in the eye with this elephant in the room. He knew something was wrong. He went out of his way to be extra nice to me—like he wasn’t nice enough already. The better he treated me, the more care he took to give me everything I wanted, the worse I felt. I wanted to kick myself for not trusting him, but what could I do?

  One year of marriage. That was the contract. Now along comes a baby. That changed everything. What would the PR team do? What would Julie do? Would they sue me for everything I didn’t have? Would Dillon be upset? I racked my brain and tried to think if there was anything in the contract about a baby. Dillon had never mentioned birth control. Somehow, that minor detail got forgotten in the chaos of planning this disaster of a marriage.

  Dillon came into the bedroom. I caught sight of him in the mirror. He looked better than ever in his tux. He waltzed up behind me and laid both hands on my shoulders. He nuzzled into my ear, and the same old quivery excitement squeaked down my body and then in between my legs.

  That was the real problem. Being pregnant made me hornier than ever. I didn’t want to keep doing it, but I had to. He worshiped my curves. He sucked my breasts until I couldn’t stand it. He fucked me night and day, and I could never get enough.

  However, despite all that, I couldn’t talk to him. I couldn’t share the joys of living with him when I carried this secret around. It weighed my shoulders to the ground and crushed the life out of every waking minute. I took refuge only in those blessed moments when we came together for rabid, wild, screaming sex.

  We couldn’t get into the limo without him slipping his fingers up my skirt to push my body towards ecstasy. We couldn’t sit down at a quiet booth in the back of some restaurant without him kissing my neck, and whispering all of the naughty things he wanted to do to me in my ear. I couldn’t lounge in bed next to him watching TV without catching sight of his package lying under his pajama pants. I would slip my hand under the covers, and the rest would be history.

  I couldn’t help cringing at the scene. I played my part. I smiled and kissed him in front of the cameras, not because I got paid to do it, but because I really loved kissing Dillon. I didn’t care who saw me kissing him. I was proud of him and proud to kiss him. Showing up in public on his arm, with his rocks on my hand and his money in my bank account filled my heart to overflowing with pride. He decorated my life better than any diamond. He was a diamond. Too bad it would never actually last.

  He nibbled my earlobe, and I pressed my head against his mouth. “Mmm.”

  His strong hands scooped up my breasts and heat coursed through my body. “You should get dressed. We’ll be late.”

  I purred into his embrace. “Then we’ll be fashionably late. Isn’t that what we want?”

  “I want everyone to see how stunning and sexy and beautiful you are,” he growled.

  I covered his hands with mine and guided their movements in circles over my breasts. I eased one hand down between my legs to stroke my panties. “Just a little while longer.”

  He fingered the wet cotton teasing me slightly. “You’re so wet right now. That’s the way I want you. I want you aching for me all night. I’ll finish you off afterwards when I can take all time in the world.” He pulled his hand away and gave my ass a hard pinch. “Now get dressed. That’s an order.”

  I smacked my lips. “Yes, Sir.”

  He shot me a grin in the mirror. “Good girl. D
o as you’re told, and I might reward you later.”

  I grinned back. “Goody. I can’t wait.”

  He strode out of the bedroom, and my heart sank. I had a long night at a fancy gala for Shyft investors to get through before I could look forward to another night of guilt-ridden sex. Deep down, I knew I had to tell him. That’s all there was to it. I couldn’t live like this any longer. If he threw me out, at least I wouldn’t have to live with this racking tension all the time.

  I pulled my satin gown over my head and settled the shimmering folds around my hips and bust. I pushed my breasts up into place to show off my cleavage. Just handling my own breasts made me so raging hot I couldn’t stand it. I should sneak off to the bathroom and give myself a buzz with the vibrator Dillon used on me sometimes. Then I could face this evening with my head screwed on straight.

  I squared my shoulders and gave myself one last look in the mirror. This couldn’t continue. I made up my mind that I would tell him after the gala. After we came home, after we took off our clothes and crawled into our own bed, when it was just him and me together in the quiet and the dark—that’s when I would tell him.

  Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t blow up. Maybe he would kiss me and tell me it was all going to be all right. Maybe, just maybe, he would forgive me for keeping this a secret from him.

  He came back to get me, and he whistled through his teeth when he saw me. I flapped my hand at him. “Shut up.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back to admire me. “You have so got it going on. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

  I blushed. “But only for another eleven months, right?”

  As soon as I said those words, I regretted it. He doubled over like I punched him inthe guts. He grimaced and turned away. “Yeah.”

  Eleven months? Eleven months from right now? In nine months from now, I’d be stuck with a kid. I would be a mother. I would be tired and grumpy and without a job yet again. I would become just another mother trying to hold it all together.

  I knew all about that. I saw it every day of the week. I knew dozens of fashionable, successful women who got married, got pregnant, and found themselves living very different lives than the ones they led before.

  I wouldn’t be going out to fancy restaurants every night of the week. I wouldn’t be attending galas like this one—at least, not as often. I would be stuck at home, changing diapers, breastfeeding, doing my best to stay sane. That’s the best any mother could hope for.

  I didn’t want to think about that, but I couldn’t stop myself. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, the words kept repeating in my mind. I was a mother. I was already a mother. My life already changed. I became a different person with a new set of priorities.

  What about Dillon? What would he turn into when he found out he was a father? Maybe he would settle down for real the way his PR team wanted him to. Maybe he wouldn’t have to put on an act by marrying a stranger.

  Once he got rid of me, he would find someone he really loved, someone he really wanted to be married to. He would find someone at his level, someone as successful as him in her own right. He wouldn’t hook up with any desperate would-be waitress from the south side.

  He probably couldn’t wait to finish this contract. I noticed him cursing at his phone when he searched for clubs and restaurants his team allowed him to take me to. He must long for the days of freedom when he could go anywhere he liked, tie one on with the best of them, pick up a fast chick, and bang the daylights out of her.

  I was nothing but a live-in lay to him. He wouldn’t want to give up that freedom to raise a kid. Who in their right mind would?

  He took my hand once more, and we went through the same routine of riding the elevator to the street where the limo waited for us. Dillon didn’t finger me and paw my dress down or gnaw my nipples to distraction. He stared out the window at the city scrolling by. He brooded and rubbed his thumb across his mouth.

  When the limo glided to a stop in front of the gala hall, we entered the streaming crush of bodies all dressed in tuxes and evening gowns. I flashed my brightest smile, and Dillon put his arms around me to pose for the cameras. He even kissed me. Then he escorted me inside, and we vanished into the crowd.

  13

  Dillon

  I worked through the crowd. I talked to people I knew and even arranged a few advantageous business deals on the side. I made my way to the bar and got myself a Scotch and soda, along with a glass of Chianti for Bianca.

  I took just as long winding my way back to her as I took to leave. I found her standing in a clutch of three other women. None of them could hold a candle to her. I took my place at her side and handed her the glass.

  She waved it aside. “Not tonight.”

  The other women laughed, and the woman nearest me laid her hand on my arm. “Don’t you know pregnant women shouldn’t drink? She has to look after those twins.”

  The circle erupted in giggles. Bianca blushed.

  “That’s okay,” I told her. “I’ll get you something else.”

  “No, thanks,” she replied. “I don’t feel like it.”

  I frowned. “Why not?”

  “I just don’t feel like it.”

  My bear grumbled. I couldn’t let this go on one more minute. I had to find out what was bothering her. Three days of living on a knife edge would drive anybody around the bend. I took her elbow and led her away from the group.

  I whispered in her face. “What are you doing? Don’t you realize you’re only fueling these rumors by not drinking?”

  She yanked her elbow out of my hand. “I just said I don’t feel like it. What are you going to do—dump it down my throat?”

  “Of course not, but you have a job to do here, the same way I do. You have a part to play.”

  “Yeah, and I’m playing it. I’m doing a damn good job, too, if you ask me, so don’t turn into a jackass by telling me what to do. I’m not your wife, and if you touch me again, you’ll regret it.”

  My bear’s grumbling turned to a roar. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I’ve had enough of it. We were having a pretty good time before this happened—whatever it is. I sure wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Nothing’s bothering me, so back off and leave me alone.”

  “You’ve given me the cold shoulder for over a week, so don’t give me that crap about nothing’s bothering you. Do you think I’m too stupid to see what’s right in front of me?”

  “Given you the cold shoulder, have I?” she shot back. “Since when have I ever given you the cold shoulder? Was I giving you the cold shoulder just before when you felt me up in front of my mirror? Was I giving you the cold shoulder last night when you made me cum all over the place? I’ve never given you the cold shoulder, you ungrateful prick—not ever. I’ve bent over for you every time you’ve touched me. I’ve fucked you to kingdom come every night since I first met you.”

  I started to argue back then I froze. I stared into her face alive and vibrant with righteous vigor. Her eyes flashed, and the color mounted to her cheeks. I let the air hiss through my teeth. “Christ, I want to touch you right now.”

  A glimmer flashed across her face. “Yeah? What do you want to do right now?”

  My eyes popped as I watched her sashaying away through the crowd. Her voluptuous ass slithered under her gown, and a stab of molten fire scorched through my guts. My bear roared so loudly with passion. I needed her right now. I needed her like I couldn’t believe.

  No woman ever talked to me like that before, especially not in public. I glanced around the hall. People packed the place from wall to wall. Where could I get her off to? Where could I hide her where no one could see?

  I hunted through the crowd for any secret place. People stopped and talked to me. I made a good show of socializing, but I couldn’t stop my mind roaming around. Where, oh where, could I duck into a private place and slam the shit out of her? One quick load, and I could go ba
ck to the party.

  I strolled here and there. I worked my way all the way back to the entrance when I saw it. The coat check. The coat checker took people’s coats and hung them on racks. When one rack filled, he wheeled it into a side closet and left it there. He brought back an empty rack to fill. He never gave the filled racks a second glance. Ten coat racks stacked that closet.

  I headed back out to the gala floor. I waded through a sea of people, but I couldn’t find Bianca anywhere. What if something happened to her? I would be sunk—not because I couldn’t pound her. I faced the dreadful realization last week when she first started acting strange. I didn’t want to pound her just to unload my sexual tensions on a fine body and leave. I wanted her. I wanted only her. No one else would satisfy me anymore. My bear hungered for her.

  I caught sight of her near the bar. Six or seven men and women surrounded her, all laughing and talking. She beamed at them one by one. She countered their jokes and made them laugh even louder. One young man leaned close and whispered in her ear. She shot him a wicked grin and swatted him on the chest.

  My blood boiled. That guy was hitting on her, and she flirted back. I couldn’t allow that. She was mine. I would show her and everyone else she was my wife. My bear roared, “Mine!” I marched up to the circle. Her eyes widened when she saw me. Her lips parted to show her white teeth.

  I took her hand and drew her away. She waved over her shoulder and called out, “I’ll be back!”

  Not if I could help it, she wouldn’t be back. I would make her weep in ecstasy. I would do her until she couldn’t walk. Then I would take her home and do it all over again.

  I towed her to the entrance. I waited until the coat check guy turned his back. Then I pulled her into the closet. She gasped once, but she didn’t say anything when I shoved her behind the racks. Furs and coats of all kinds closed around us.

  Bianca stared up at me with those big eyes of hers. Her skin glowed its luminescent sheen, and her lips glistened when I moved in to kiss her. I didn’t have to say it. I said it all before, and she understood. This was my moment. She was my prize.