Fake Marriage to a Baller: A Wilder Brothers Romance

by Aria Scott

  I needed something strong. “A shot.”

  “A shot of what?”

  I asked for the first thing that came to my head. “Buttery Nipple.” I felt my cheeks flushing. Where did that come from? I couldn’t even remember ever having had one.

  The bartender didn’t even blink. A few minutes later, I was holding the shot. I downed it right away. It turned out to be a layered concoction that tasted like butterscotch. “I’ll have another.”

  The bartender nodded and then began preparing another. I glanced around the room, knowing that I was actually searching for Chase – hoping that he’d come rescue me like I was a damsel in distress.

  I spotted him in the crowd talking to a scantily clad woman who was slinking up to him. I felt a stab of betrayal. Or was it jealousy?

  So now I was jealous of Chase’s other women. I could tell that he’d fucked them. All this faking was making me insane.

  The bartender slid the new shot my way and I quickly downed it. I needed the alcohol to help me through this. How did that happen? Why was I letting it happen? I was using alcohol to help me hide my feelings – dangerous feelings.

  Before I could contemplate what those feelings were exactly, an older man slid beside me at the bar. “Why are you hiding out back here?”

  His friendly smile put me at ease. “I’m not hiding out. Just taking a breather.”

  I studied the man as he ordered a drink. He was wearing a well-fitted three-piece suit with a paisley tie. His steel gray hair was neatly trimmed and his face surprisingly unlined for the sixty-plus years I guessed him to be. He was quite handsome and he held himself as upright as a five-star general.

  He turned to me with his drink in hand. “You look a little overwhelmed.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I suppose I do. We do things differently in Oklahoma. I guess I’m not used to such fancy affairs.”

  His laugh was pleasant, not ridiculing or mean. He took a sip, scrutinizing me over his drink. “It must be difficult then, being the center of attention tonight.”

  I chuckled. “No, I’m not the center of attention. Chase is.”

  He arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

  “No. Not at all,” I gently objected. “I don’t mind Chase being the one in the limelight.”

  He nodded his acceptance. “Not many women would mind letting their fiancé outshine them. Kudos to you.”

  The shots were warming my belly and soothing the rough edges of my nerves. I felt myself relaxing and even enjoying the non-threatening conversation I was having for once.

  I sighed. “I just wish I fit in more with Chase’s friends.”

  “I consider it a sign of good character that you don’t fit in more.” He knitted his brows. “Frankly speaking, you weren’t at all what I was expecting.”

  I winced at his words. “You weren’t expecting the country bumpkin from Oklahoma, huh? I’m just in way over my head with all this Miami flashy fashion and such.”

  “They say, ‘If the whole world was blind, how many people would you impress?’”

  He swirled his drink around in his glass, while I thought over his wise words. “I must seem very superficial to you, worrying about my appearance.”

  “You shouldn’t be selling yourself so short. You look gorgeous. I’m sure there are many jealous women here tonight wishing they had your sense of style. You’re more subtle about your – uh, charms, which is even more intriguing to most men.”

  He was a smooth talker and I couldn’t help it – I felt myself glow with his compliment. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”

  After a moment of contemplation, he dispensed some advice. “Give his friends a chance to meet you. They are probably just intimidated by you. No doubt you seem quite sophisticated to them.”

  “Me?” My laugh was doubtful. “I think you flatter me too much.”

  “You’re quite refreshing, Aubrey.” He took a sip. “Don’t ever change.”

  “You must think I’m very naïve. I’m not, you know.” My voice had a defiant edge to it.

  “No, maybe you aren’t.” He paused for a moment. “I can clearly see what Chase sees in you. You’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him. But, tell me, what do you see in Chase?”

  Suddenly, I found myself babbling. Telling this stranger how Chase was helping me with the rescue shelter and how wonderfully he treated me. I wanted to prove to him how worthy Chase was and how much he cared for me. Was I trying to prove it to him or to myself? I was too drunk to know the difference anymore.

  I was mid-sentence when I felt a hand on my elbow. “Aubrey, there you are!”

  It was Chase. After singing his high praises for the past ten minutes, I just about wanted to jump into his arms. But he was secretly giving me some kind of look. God only knew what he was trying to get across.

  “Sweetheart,” I gushed. “We were just talking about you.”

  Chase seemed a little nervous. He turned to the man. “Mr. Clarke. I see you’ve met my fiancée?”

  “Yes. You’re quite the lucky man, Chase. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you two alone.” The nice man said good-bye to me, gave me a wink and then left.

  Chase whirled to face me. “Do you know who that was?”

  I giggled. “Clark?”

  “John Clarke.”

  I shrugged.

  “The team owner! What exactly were you two discussing for so long?”

  I took Chase’s hand and pulled him close to me. I leaned my head against his chest and breathed in his clean male scent. “I was telling him how much you love me.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  My hand slid down his back and grabbed his ass. I had wanted to do that for a long time. “Just a little.”

  Chase captured my wandering hand with his own and trapped it safely between us. “This is an important night for me. Why’d you drink so damn much?”

  A touch of anger burned through my buzz. I said hotly, “Well, you weren’t paying any attention to me. You left me to the wolves.”

  Chase squeezed my hand, warning me to be quieter. “I’m sorry about that. You looked like you were doing just fine though.”

  “Please, I don’t fit in here and those bitches know it.” The accusations spilled angrily out of my mouth. “They were snickering behind my back and mocking the way I looked. They thought my dress was so...hillbilly,” I spat. “And what made it worse was the way you were eye-fucking every last one of them.”

  He tensed. “That’s not true. Your insecurity about this is out of place, Aubrey. I told you that you were way off base with this jealousy thing.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but infuriatingly, he silenced me with a finger to my lips. Just then I noticed that some of his football friends had joined us.

  “Hey, there he is! The man of the hour. How about we line up some shots?” One of his friends was already signaling the bartender.

  Chase smiled, but shook his head. “Have a couple for me, fellas. I’m going to take the little lady here out for a walk on the beach. Seems she’s missing my attention, if you know what I mean.”

  Amidst the teasing banter, Chase’s friend slapped him on the back. “You sly dog, you.”

  Chase grabbed my hand and quickly pulled me out of the banquet room, before I could even say one word to deny his bold claims.

  The fresh air was sobering. I could see by the clenched set of his jaw that Chase was angry. We stopped for a moment so that I could slip out of my towering high-heels before he continued pulling me along. He waited until we moved out of the reach of the romantic outdoor lights of the Papillon d'Or and stepped onto the soft sand of the beach before he spoke. “I hope like hell you didn’t blow it with John Clarke.”

  I tried to pull my hand out of his grasp, but Chase wouldn’t let go. “Is that all you care about -- John Clarke?”

  Chase was exasperated. “He’s the whole reason we’re doing this, Aubrey!”
<
br />   I opened my mouth to argue, but quickly shut it. He was right. I had been too drunk to even realize who I’d been talking to and I couldn’t even recall if I’d said anything stupid or not. I could have blown the whole thing for all I knew.

  “Chase, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t lie like this, and I can’t pretend anymore. It’s just not going to work.”

  Chase’s voice softened. “Look, we’ve been doing really well so far. This engagement party was a tough test. It was really stressful, but we made it through. We’ve got to ride it out. Please don’t give up on me. Let’s give it one more try, Aubrey. Please.”

  I remained quiet. With my free hand, I pulled the hairpins from my expensive up-do and let my hair tumble down over my shoulders. I focused on the continuous crash of the surf against the beach and let the sound soothe my frayed nerves.

  I knew this crazy scheme meant a lot to Chase - football meant the world to him. I didn’t want to give up on him. It wasn’t really the money that important to me anymore. I really wanted this to succeed for his sake.

  He pulled me further along the moonlit beach. Just ahead was a row of little white tents of some sort lined up. A length of the gauzy white material facing the ocean flapped gently in the breeze.

  “What are those for?” I pointed to the tents.

  “The cabanas? The hotel spa gives ocean-side massages during the day in them.”

  I tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the cabanas. “Let’s go check them out.”

  We reached the closest one and I slipped inside past the flapping entrance.

  The structure was fairly simple. Four wooden posts erected in a square to hold the white curtained walls in place. The small space might have seemed claustrophobic if not for the roof which was open to the elements. I could see the full moon high in the sky and thousands of twinkling stars. The ocean breeze was strong enough to slip through the gauzy retreat and chase away the insufferable humidity.

  I laid my hand on what I assumed to be the massage table in the center of the cabana. “It doesn’t feel very luxurious.”

  Chase chuckled. “That’s because it’s covered with plastic. They probably cover it for the night to keep it protected from the weather.”

  I began trying to remove the plastic. “Help me take this off.”

  “I think the masseurs have all left for the day.” Chase teased.

  I glanced up at the sky. “I just want to lay down for a second and stargaze.”

  Together, we peeled off the plastic. From what I could see in the moonlight, the table looked like a custom built wicker creation. I hopped up onto it and leaned back on my elbows, so I could check out the star studded sky. Alcohol may have lowered my inhibitions, but to be truthful, I knew exactly what I was doing. I may have been acting the complete innocent, but in reality, I had it in my head to seduce Chase.

  I understood that my desire was foolish, that I’d probably get hurt, that he’d go back to Laurie, Shontelle, or any of the other countless women in his life, as soon as he got his contract nailed down. But my drunken self didn’t care. All I could think about was how safe I felt when his arms were around me. How amazing it felt when he kissed me so well, so passionately, that butterflies tumbled nonstop in my stomach and all I could think about was having him inside of me.

  Yeah, I knew I’d regret this, that he’d rip my heart in two. And yet, that boozy haze weighing down my inhibitions insisted if I didn’t have him at least once, and experience all of the pleasure I suspected could be mine if I finally surrendered to him, I’d regret that even more.

  “Mmmm. I’ll have to remember to book a massage someday,” I murmured.

  Chase spread his hands questioningly and half-joked, “Well, I’m no professional, but I could give it a try. If you’re -”

  Before he could finish, I cut in. “Yes! My shoulders are so sore. It must be all the stress.” I slid off the table and presented my back to him. “Help me with the zipper?” My heart was beating rapidly in my chest.

  Chase hesitated. “Your zipper?”

  “How can you massage my shoulders properly through this dress?” I gathered my hair off my back and held it off to the side of my neck. “Can you see it in the dark?”

  “Oh, I’m sure I can manage.” Chase slowly pulled the zipper down. When he was finished, I slid out of my dress and let it fall to the sand at my feet before turning to face him.

  I heard an animalistic growl in the back of his throat as he admired me. I was wearing a matching lacy bra and thong underwear set that left very little to the imagination. Even in the moonlight, I could see the lust burning in his half-lidded eyes, as he devoured the sight of me nearly naked. What I really wanted was his hands running all over my body, not his gaze.

  “Help me onto the table?” I asked innocently.

  His voice sounded tight. “How do you expect me to massage you when you’re looking like this?”

  I giggled. “Don’t be such a prude! I’ve got bathing suits that are skimpier than this.” I didn’t really, but I couldn’t let a sudden attack of morals on his part ruin my seduction plans.

  “Oh no you don’t. Not anymore.” He tried to keep his voice light and joking, but I detected a note of strain behind it. “No way I’m letting you walk around in public like this.”

  I turned from his searing eyes, smiling to myself, and climbed onto the padded massage table. “Well this isn’t public. It seems very private here.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Chase slipped off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

  I wiggled around on the table, no doubt calling his attention to my mostly bare ass, until I settled into a comfortable position lying on my stomach.

  Chase’s strong hands began to work on the muscles in my shoulders. His hands being in constant contact with my bare skin did not have a relaxing effect on me. In fact, his touch only heightened my sexual awareness of him. I was getting impatient. When the hell was he going to make a move?

  “Oh this is heaven.” I murmured contentedly. “Just do me a favor and unhook my bra. It’s getting in the way of those magnificent hands.”

  Maybe I could help this process along a bit. Without a word, he unhooked it. I slid my arms out of the bra, pulled it out from underneath me and tossed it to the sand below.

  He made no comment. Instead, he resumed the massage. Slow and steady, he explored my back up and down and side to side. He worked on the small of my back for a few minutes, but never ventured any lower.

  Meanwhile, I was imagining all sorts of naughty things: his fingers “accidentally” brushing the swell of my breast, his hands massaging my thighs and then slowly inching higher, dipping closer and closer to my core. A tingling desperation was building between my legs. Desire was bubbling up within me. I had to fight the urge not to squirm under his hands as I mentally willed his fingers to stop being so damn proper and to plunge deep inside me already.

  Still, his touch was nothing but professional. It was beautiful torture.

  A few minutes later, his hands stopped. He stepped back from the table. “I hope that helped with the stress, darlin’.”

  Disbelief washed over me. “That’s it?” He hadn’t tried to improperly touch me even once. He had remained the complete gentleman even though I had stripped nearly naked and virtually offered myself to him.

  He shrugged. “I’m sorry if it didn’t satisfy you, I told you I’m not a professional masseur. Maybe you can call tomorrow and book an appointment.”

  I scrambled to sit up. “No, the massage felt great. It was wonderful. It’s just that I thought…” My voice trailed off weakly.

  His eyebrows shot up questioningly. “What did you think?”

  I felt heat creeping into my cheeks. Hopefully the moonlight was hiding my confusion. “Nothing,” I muttered. I crossed my arms awkwardly over my breasts even though he didn’t even appear to notice them.

  He bent down and retrieved my discarded dress, shook some sand out of i
t and then handed it to me without saying anything.

  “Are you still mad at me about the John Clarke thing?” I tried to hide my mix of jumbled emotions by studiously unfolding the wrinkled ball of material that was my dress.

  “No.”

  “Then why?” I whispered.

  “Why what?” He sounded so calm when I was feeling anything but. My physical passion had cooled, but it had been replaced by something just as fiery. What was it that gnawed so terribly within me? Bitterness? Regret? Disappointment? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Was it just the sting of rejection or was it something much deeper?

  The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Why are you rejecting me?”

  Chase’s expression remained unreadable. “Are you offering something, darlin’?”

  “Yes… No! Uh…” I just wanted the sand to swallow me whole at this point.

  “Why don’t you just come right out and tell me what you want?”

  If I told him the truth, I knew he might turn me down outright and I didn’t blame him if he did. I was playing silly games. I was confused. I wanted him, but I didn’t want to lose anything in exchange. I wanted my heart to remain untouched.

  I was so damned nervous; I thought my heart would beat right out of my chest. “I want you.”

  “To do what?” It was maddening how he was forcing this confession from me.

  All I had left was the truth. But, how did I answer? ‘Make love to me’ sounded too intimate. ‘Have sex with me’ sounded too crass. Instead, I blurted out, “Kiss me.”

  Butterflies danced in my belly as he took a step toward me. His actions were slow and deliberate; and by the time his lips met mine, I was trembling all over. His kiss was devastating. It affected me as no other ever had.

  He was neither gentle nor precise. His kiss was all-consuming as his tongue explored my mouth with a demanding need. He plundered savagely, taking what he wanted, and leaving me breathless and panting for more.

  My hand worked its way across his broad chest and curled around his neck, my fingers winding through the thick wavy hair at the nape of his neck. Without breaking our kiss, he pulled me in even closer to his body, crushing my breasts against his hard chest.