She pulled away from him. Was he trying to lecture her about her parents? Please. She knew them much better than he did, thank you very much.
She cleared her throat. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s not do this.”
“Oh, so now you’re on board with the not talking thing?” He rolled to his back, folded his arms behind his head and smirked. “Typical fake girlfriend behavior.”
Anger surged through her, red hot. “This relationship might not be real, but I will kick my fake boyfriend’s ass. Consider yourself warned.”
His smirk widened, which only pissed her off even more. “Consider me scared, if it makes you happy.”
“Cooper.” She curled her hands into fists. Where the heck had this fight even come from? Oh. Right. She’d asked him about his feelings. How stupid of her. “This conversation is over.”
“Fine.” He turned his head toward her. “But have you ever considered it’s in your mind—all these troubles you think exist with your family?”
She tilted her chin up. “Are they in yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe your advice applies to your own dad. Maybe if you talked it out with him, you’d see he loves you and isn’t trying to hand you something on a platter. That he isn’t trying to offer you a consolation prize for disappointing him. Maybe he just wants to give his life’s work to his son, crazy as it might sound.”
“That advice does not apply to me,” he said through clenched teeth. “I simply want an even playing field. I’m not lying or making up a fake life to make him happy. I’m not the one being close-minded about reality.”
She flinched. He wanted to attack her where she was weak? Bullshit. “Why does the ground always have to be even? What’s so wrong with using something to your advantage if it’s presented to you?”
“It’s just not how I roll.”
“Yeah.” She studied him, taking in the stubborn cut of his jaw. “I got that loud and clear.”
His nostrils flared. “Let me guess. You think it’s stupid and that I should just ‘talk it out’ with him? As if that will fix the problem of me not taking something I didn’t earn out of principle?”
“Who says you didn’t earn it?”
He tugged the blankets up over his body. “Being my father’s son isn’t a fucking job qualification, Kayla. And I have other debts to pay. Now drop it.”
“Maybe he’s offering the position to you because he feels you’re the right man for it. Maybe he admires your work and dedication. Did you ever think of that?”
He glared at her and rolled over, giving her his back. “My father is not your father. Now go the fuck to sleep, sweetheart.”
She punched her pillow, fidgeting to get comfortable. “Sleep tight and secure in your ignorance, darling.”
He stiffened even more but didn’t rise to the bait. When she realized he wasn’t going to fight back, she rolled over and glared at the dark room. She’d been right to avoid love and commitment like the plague.
Even fake relationships sucked ass.
…
The next morning, Kayla lay in the bed, staring at the sunlight forming shapes and shadows on the hotel ceiling. Last night had been…weird. The fight had been way too intense and…well, real.
Since when did fake relationships start having real fights?
Maybe they were getting too caught up in the charade and just needed to laugh it off this morning. Do a reset or something. She rolled over and rested her hands under her cheek, watching him as he slept. He looked so peaceful.
She knew he wasn’t.
He was haunted by his memories, and there was nothing she or anyone could do to help him. He had to let go of those nightmares all by himself. And he had to forgive himself. She only wished she could make it easier. They’d come together because he’d been trying to save her.
But he needed saving, too.
His lids fluttered open, and his bright green gaze met hers. His light brown hair was sloppy and standing up on ends, and he had a major five o’clock shadow going on. His tattoos stood out against the white sheets on the bed. He was even super-hot first thing in the morning.
Not. Fair.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him. “So, that fight was…interesting, huh?”
His lips twitched. “To say the least.”
“Why were we arguing when this whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing is fake, anyway?”
“I have no clue.” He curled his arm around her waist and rolled her underneath him, his eyes back to being warm and carefree. Thank God. “But you know the best part about fake fighting?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “What would that be?”
“The real make-up sex you have afterwards.” He grabbed her leg and bent it at the knee, his cock brushing against her with deadly precision. “You ready to make up, sweetheart?”
“God, yes.”
She tugged him down and kissed him, her tongue finding his. His hands roamed everywhere, exploring her body as if he was memorizing every single curve. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his muscled back. Man, she loved how hard he felt.
How invincible he seemed.
She had a feeling he liked showing that image to the world…even if it wasn’t entirely accurate.
He nibbled his way down her neck, her chest, and then clamped on to her nipple. He sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, as he ran his fingers down her stomach and over her hip.
Her insides quivered. Begged for more of it—lots more. And he gave it to her. He rolled her over onto her stomach, then slid lower, his hard body moving down hers with teasing slowness. She curled her fingers into the mattress and held her breath. He kissed down her spine, and then over the curve of her butt.
And then, oh God, then he slipped between her legs and lifted her hips so he could go down on her from behind. She cried out and buried her face in the pillow, loving the way he made her feel. It was such a vulnerable position, but with Cooper?
There were no words.
His fingers flexed on her hips, and then dug in just enough to hurt a little bit. She whimpered and pressed back against him, so close. And then she soared over the edge, her whole body going tense.
She felt him pull away from her and she heard the sound of a condom wrapper ripping. And when he positioned himself behind her, lifting her on to her knees, she held her breath and waited. Waited for him to rock her world all over again.
He didn’t disappoint.
He surged inside of her, burying himself completely. She pressed even closer to him, loving how much he filled her. And then all hell broke loose, because he was moving inside of her and need took over, not allowing for anything besides him.
And this.
Her entire body tightened and grew intensely sensitive, and he moved inside her smooth and hard. She came again. Explosively. Unexpectedly. No one else had ever given her multiple orgasms like this. After a few moments, she crashed back down to earth in time to feel him come inside of her. He gripped her ass so tight it hurt, but then he collapsed on top of her with a shudder.
And it was then…right then…that she realized something crazy. This wasn’t strictly fun, carefree sex anymore. He made her feel better, in the bed and out of it. He made her happy. Like, long-term-share-my-hopes-and-dreams kind of happy.
What the heck was she supposed to do with that?
They both rolled to their sides so that they faced one another. He had a smile on those lips she loved so much—full dimples and all. “That was the best fake-make up sex ever.”
“Agreed,” she said, keeping her tone light even though she was panicking inside.
He reached out and toyed with her hair. “If that’s what I get for fake-fighting with you, then I just might love fighting with you from now on. Want to go again?”
There was that word again. Love. That word on his lips did strange things to her heart. Like making her want to hear it for real.
Oh, God. Had she really just thought that? Please, no.
“Kayla? You okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Uh, yeah.” She forced a laugh. It sounded maniacal. “Why would you ask?”
“Because you’ve been quiet for three minutes.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “Just…staring at me.”
Her cheeks went red hot, but she forced a smile. He wouldn’t know. He could never know. “Well, in my defense you’re quite fun to look at.”
“Yeah?” His lips twitched. “Back ‘atcha, sweetheart.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” He lightly ran his hands up and down her sides, making chills dance over her body. “Are we busy?”
“Um, let’s see…the family dinner is tonight, but the rest of the morning and afternoon are wide open. Susan wanted to be able to sleep in and relax the day before the wedding, instead of all that rehearsal dinner crap the night before. That’s why we did it last night instead of tonight.”
“So we have a few hours before we report for duty?”
“Yep.” She rolled to her feet and headed for the bathroom. “Why? What do you want to do?”
He followed her, then leaned against the doorjamb, right next to the spot where she’d watched him take her in front of the mirror. Had that been only yesterday?
“How about if you show me the town? Your old haunts, or maybe your old school?”
She cringed. She’d hated high school…falling perfectly into the majority statistic. About seventy-three percent of kids hated high school. The only ones that didn’t were the cool kids. “Hmmm… That sounds awfully real. Why would you want to see my old school?”
“Because you went there,” he said, his voice soft. “Please?”
“Cooper…” she said, drifting off. And when he looked at her, all warm eyes and hard abs and sexy lips…who was she to say no? “All right. We’ll do it.”
“Fuck yeah. Let’s do this,” he quipped.
She closed her eyes for a second at the onslaught of feelings those words brought about. And then she sucked it the hell up and got in the shower.
Wondering how she was going to get him out of her life now that she’d already let him in.
Chapter Fifteen
The tall high school rose above them, extending into the overcast sky. What had started out as a sunny, bright day had quickly changed over to fog and drear. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were in for a storm. A big one. He wondered what Susan would think about that. She’d probably been hoping for clear skies—not clouds and downpours.
But hadn’t he heard someone say that rain was good luck for a wedding?
“What are the odds for bad weather tomorrow?” he asked, turning to Kayla. “You should know, right?”
She blinked at him. “Um, not really. I’m an actuary, not a weatherman.”
“Is there a difference?” He wrapped her hand in his, tugging her around the back of the building. “Both look at the facts and spew out statistics at the general population, right?”
“Well when you put it that way…” She grinned and looked up at the sky. Her graceful neck arched just right, and it made him pause. Since when had he been enthralled by a woman’s neck, for fuck’s sakes?
“I’m waiting.”
“I know. I’m thinking.” She shot him an annoyed look. “I’ll put it at a fifty percent chance of rain.”
“See? You even sound like a real weatherman.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s okay. Rain is good luck for a wedding, contrary to popular belief. So it’s a good thing.”
“I thought I heard that somewhere.” He led her toward the football field in the back. “So, tell me the truth. Were you on that field kicking your legs up and shaking your ass for all of the boys?”
She frowned at the field. “Not even close.”
“Really? With that ass,” he palmed her backside through the jeans, “and with that body,” he trailed his fingers over her hips. He loved the way they curved so gracefully. “I’d have put my money on you being a cheerleader. Maybe even chief cheerleader.”
“Well, you would have lost.” She gave him a small smile. “Sadly, I was pretty much the furthest thing from a cheerleader.”
“Hmm.” He tapped a finger on his chin. “The jock?”
“Puh-lease.”
“The math-a-lete?”
“Closer.” She headed toward the field, her gaze on the bleachers. “I did like numbers, but that’s not a shock, I’m sure.”
“All right. I give up. What were you?”
She sighed. “I was in the five percent of the adolescent population that stayed in orchestra throughout high school.”
He almost laughed, but didn’t. He thought back on their time together. She had a habit of tapping her fingers when she was nervous or irritated. And for some reason, he thought for sure she must play the violin. He had no idea why. It was just a hunch, so he went with it. “Violin?”
“Yep.” She smiled, but the smile looked sad. “I liked the music. And liked being in the orchestra. My part was always so clearly laid out. I knew exactly where I was seated and when to come in. It was comforting to a person like me.”
“I can see that about you. Do you still play?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged. “I do it when I’m stressed out or thinking. But I miss being in an actual orchestra. It’s the one place where I felt like I belonged. You know what I mean?”
He studied her. He might not have been a nerd in high school, but he’d never felt as if he belonged anywhere back then. Had never found his home, so to speak. Being a military brat, he’d never settled down long enough to really find a close group of friends or colleagues. Not until the military, when he forged some strong relationships with the guys around him. So he got what she meant way too well. He liked being needed. Liked helping others. But besides that…what did he have now?
Nothing. That’s what.
He was tempted to make a joke and laugh off the moment. Make light of the fact that she’d shared something about herself she probably didn’t tell many people. It’s what he normally did. It was him. But he couldn’t do it. Instead he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her lower lip. “I do know what you mean about belonging. But honestly? I don’t think I’ve ever found that security.”
She blinked up at him. “You have your career. Your men.”
“Yeah, but do I belong there? Do I feel at peace?” He shrugged, feeling restless. “I don’t think I could say that. I’ve never lost myself in something or someone so completely that everything else just faded away.”
Not until you.
He immediately shook the thought from his head.
She snorted. “I find that hard to believe. You seem to know exactly where you’re going and what you’re doing at every point in time.” She headed for the bleachers, her hand still holding his. “I know you like helping people, and I know you have a life plan that you stick to—and that’s half of what you need to get where you want to be in life. You know what you want, and you go get it. That’s awesome.”
“What’s the other half?”
“Sheer, stubborn determination to win.” She eyed him, a smile playing on her lips. “I think you’ve got that down, too.”
He laughed. “You think?”
“Oh yeah.” She opened the gate and walked into the stands. He couldn’t believe it wasn’t locked, but maybe they didn’t worry about that in North Carolina. “You’ve definitely got the stubborn part down to an art form. I mean, look at the way you took over and demanded to be my fake boyfriend? If that isn’t sheer determination, then I don’t know what is.”
“Nah. I just wanted to get in your pants.”
“Well, you succeeded.” She grinned up at him.
“That’s something I’ve always been pretty confident in,” he joked, tightening his fingers on hers. “My ability to woo a woman.”
“Yeah, I can see why.”
“Though, I n
ever went to the extremes with anyone else that I went to with you.” He roamed his gaze over her. She wore a grey wool jacket, a pair of jeans, and a white knit hat. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and she looked so damn pretty it hurt.
She chuckled. He expected her to say something sentimental or sweet, but she turned away, her cheeks going even redder. “You didn’t tell me who you were in high school yet.”
He blinked at the change of subject. “Uh…why don’t you guess?”
“Guess?” She strolled toward the area where the team sits when they’re not on the field. “I have a ninety-four percent chance of getting it right, based on what I know about you.”
He raised a brow. “Sounds as if you like those odds.”
“I do.”
“Enough to bet on it?”
“Hmmm…” She paused, as if she was worried she might be wrong. “What are we talking here? Money? Sexual favors?”
He scanned the surrounding area. There were no cameras, and they were definitely the only ones here. “If you’re wrong, you have to do any sexual favor I ask for.”
She laughed. “That’s all?”
“Yep.” He gestured toward the field. “Right here. Right now.”
She sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out. He could almost make out her breath in the cold air. “Seriously?”
“What’s the matter?” He spun her until her back rested against the chain link fence, then grabbed both her hands. He lifted them so they pressed against the metal on either side of her head. “Are you too scared your calculations are off?”
“God, no.” She bit down on her lip, her gaze on his mouth. “Fine, but I pick the favor.”
He groaned. “Deal. Go ahead and guess already.” He nibbled on the side of her neck. “Take all the facts you know about me and tell me what I was like in high school.”
When he lowered his head and nipped the spot where her shoulder and neck met, she groaned and arched her back. “You’re very take charge, and you came from a military family, so you probably moved around a lot. It wouldn’t have given you a good chance to develop the team camaraderie that most sports need to flow nicely, and you were always the new kid, so I’m guessing you weren’t in any sports. You don’t strike me as the musical type, so I’m thinking…”
Temporarily Yours (Shillings Agency) Page 10
