by Eva Luxe
It was like having the Italian chorus and orchestra directly behind you. The engines oozed power and speed. Not that I bought it for that, I rarely went over fifty in this car. Rather, I bought it for the history of the car, and out of respect of how and why it was built. Enzo had a good grip on cars it seemed.
I began my leisurely drive down into the city. For some reason it was still on my mind that I could turn back and turn down this meeting, date, whatever Benson called it. But then I remembered the banker, Mr. Johnston, and the loan the bank wanted back before things got out of hand.
Then it was Mr. Gallock and the promise of millions before us. Things were lining up, almost as if to say that I better take this chance or else.
I was almost inside city limits when a car sped by me. They were a bunch of teenagers, begging to befall the same fate I endured a few years ago. Their speeding car rounding the corner gave me a heart attack. It was too close to hitting me.
Beeeeep, beeeep!
Cars beeped from behind me, shaking me out of my trauma induced panic attack.
“Fuck,” I cursed, rubbing my forehead. I drove off, and in minutes, found myself staring at Madame Rousseau’s Building of Amour. A tad gratuitous with the French, isn’t she? I thought.
I had the valet park my car and limped inside.
“There you are! Right on time.” Eliza greeted me with open arms, sashaying down the steps to meet me.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Rousseau.”
She took me by the arm and led me down a black hall, lighted by only sparkles and specks of lights on the ceiling and walls.
“Nice work here…” I wasn’t sure how to compliment the walls without sounding cheesy.
“Thank you, dear. It was my idea ever since the building was built. Custom built,” she corrected herself.
We turned a few corners, and ended up coming out onto a grand dining hall that shared the same elegance as the rest of her building I’ve seen so far.
“Wow, impressive. That’s a lot of crystals you have going on here,” I said, noting the chandeliers that hung above and the crystal glasses and plates on the tables. The tablecloths themselves were a rich velvet lined with black, and the seats looked plush.
“She’s right over there.” Eliza pointed, and began to drag me off to meet her.
Stopping a few feet from her, Eliza hung back. The place was dimly lit and all I could see was a silhouette shrouded in darkness.
“I’ll be right here,” Eliza said, as if trying to sound reassuring and encouraging. “Go get yourself acquainted, and once you’re comfortable, call me over and we’ll speak more about the arrangement.”
Eliza released my arm and floated off to another table to sit down. The girl waiting at the table had her back faced to me. I could still barely make her out in the dim light. All I could tell at first was that she had a lovely neck. Her short blond hair was in a flip that reminded me of the style that someone I used to know… someone dear to me… used to wear hers in.
As I approached her, my heart began to beat harder. I had no idea how any of this would turn out. I had no idea I’d ever be buying a temporary wife, but, here I was.
“Excuse me,” I said, getting her attention.
She turned around, and my heart leapt out of my chest through my throat and ran the other way.
“Wendy?!” I gasped.
Shit.
Her eyes went wide and she jumped out of her seat.
“Sam!” She looked around. “Wait, you’re my date?” she asked, her mouth hanging open.
“Y-yes. I…” I was lost for words. Or rather, they were clogging my throat like a clogged drain. There were so many things I wanted to say to her.
“No, I— I can’t do this. Not with you!” She walked around me, her now curvaceous hips swaying side to side in that deliciously tight dress.
Eliza got up from her table. “Stop, Ms. Monroe. You cannot walk out on Mr. Reign here. Or else you’ll forfeit working with me.”
Wendy’s shoulders dropped. “What?”
“Monsieur Reign is a good man,” Eliza took her by the shoulders and brought her back to me. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes though. “Please. Give him a chance.”
Now that she was closer, I had a better look at her. Damn, she was perfect. Her breasts were a bit fuller than I remembered them being, in that dress, her hips were gorgeous, and for the first time, my cock got a little irritated in my pants.
Her eyes flickered at mine, and trailed down to my cane.
“Fine,” she whispered.
Chapter 6
Wendy
Sam… was an asshole.
I wanted to call him that right to his face. But instead, for the sake of this job and working with Eliza Rousseau, I played the quiet girl and sat back down in my seat.
“I’ll leave you two alone now. Get along now,” she insisted, walking back to a table a few tables away from us. There had to be about four more couples in this large dining room.
Sam hobbled over to his seat and sat down. He looked at me as if I were a ghost.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“No, nothing. You look gorgeous is all.”
Hmph, he complimented me… I glanced at his cane again and cleared my throat.
“What’s with the cane. I saw you limping…” I was the heartbroken one, so why did I feel bad about asking him about his cane and limp? I was treading on thin ice around him for no apparent reason.
“Oh, car accident.” He said, eyeing a glass full of champagne that had been waiting for him. He sipped it and closed his eyes for a second. “Drunk driver, went into a coma for about six months…” Sam pursed his lips and inhaled.
“Six months?” I took a gulp of my champagne too. “Wow, that’s terrible. What happened to the driver?”
“Dead. My sister really fought to keep me alive. Just as they pulled the plug, I came back…”
Oh damn, every piece of resentment I had for him churning in my gut began to simmer down and die out. Six months… they were even unplugging him so he could die?
“Good old Willow,” I said. She had always been so nice to her brother, even when he hadn’t always deserved it. And then, I asked, “Has your recovery been better than they expected?”
I winced, yelling at myself for asking him so many questions. Still, I couldn’t help but be curious.
“I guess so.” Sam shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “Doctors said I wouldn’t walk again. But intensive therapy proved otherwise.”
A small light beamed on his face with a quaint smile. Age had done Sam some good. Real good. He was cute before, in an immature youthful way. But now, this wasn’t a cute boy sitting in front of me; this was a handsome man that was mature… and a bit broken.
“I’m glad you’re up and walking,” I said, fiddling with my wine glass.
“Thank you. I’ve been doing well ever since. I even own my own business. Which brings me here.”
Okay, it was time to get down to business. Sam’s face shifted to that of a serious look—
his eyes tinted and his eyebrows furrowed. It sent chills straight to my core, buzzing me with a tease of arousal.
“About that…” I trailed off, lost in the scent of his cologne. Damn, it was spicy, expensive and low key at the same time.
“Yes, I need a fiancé. A woman to marry. A wife.”
I leaned back in my chair, “W-what?” I stammered. Time to drink the rest of this champagne down with one gulp.
Sam chuckled. “A temporary wife though. There’s a business engagement I need to get over with. Once that is done, we can part ways… if you like.”
If you like? Those last words echoed in my head and I was lost for a moment.
“So, I need to marry you and play the good wife for some business thing you have going on?”
“Ever heard of Reign Corp?” he asked me, sipping his drink.
His eyes were glued to mine, and I didn’t know how to take it. Well, my pussy
did, and it was clenching its appreciation, trying to get my attention, as if I didn’t already know what it thought it needed: to be taken for the very first time by this hot billionaire I used to be smitten with. But, other than that… my feelings were as mixed as a bag of apples and oranges.
“Reign Corp? That’s you?!” I held onto the table as if I were going to be flung across the room.
“Yes.”
I folded my arms and thought about it for a moment. He was wanting to fake marry me. Talk about life getting weird.
“What’s the payment?” I asked, snapping into business mode myself.
Eliza waltzed over: the money mention was her cue.
“About that,” she began, “the payment for you is one point two million.”
“What?!” I shrieked, clasping my hands over my mouth in embarrassment. The other couples that were being set up looked over at our table and my face grew hot from being so loud.
“But, darling, it’s only paid after the agreement ends,” Eliza added. “However,” she pulled out an envelope, “should you accept, there is a small bonus of eight grand in here to help tide you over.” She looked on to Sam. “I’m sure if there’s anything outstanding you should need, Sam will take care of it.”
“Indeed, Ms. Rousseau. Nothing but the best for her.”
Sam locked his eyes on me again, and I felt butt naked. His eyes… the way they undressed me, made me wet and twitchy. Dirty thoughts filled my head.
“Deal,” I said. My pussy clenched its anticipation once again, this time even more eagerly.
Eliza gave me the envelope and sat some papers down for us both to sign. The rules were straight, and protected both of us.
Over one million dollars would be mine. The eight grand alone was phenomenal, but the one point two million? That was what would bring happiness back to Dad and me. Finally, an opening at the end of the tunnel.
***
Sam escorted me out to the front of the building. We exchanged numbers and I opened up my Uber App.
“Do you need a ride home, Wendy?” he asked.
The valet drove up in a silver matte Ferrari, and my jaw just about hit the ground. I was always a car person; so was Sam. That was one of the most outstanding things that we had had in common. But back then, we would only look at cars and talk about which ones we wanted to buy one day. He was the only one of us who had managed to make that happen.
“Come, I’ll drive you.” He limped over to open the passenger door for me.
“Well,” I stuttered, looking at my Uber app.
Come on, it’s a Ferrari! I told myself. You’ve always wanted to ride in one. Plus, he’s going to be your fake husband. Might as well enjoy the real perks of a fake marriage, right?
“Sure!”
I slid in and he shut the door. Once he was inside, he drove off. He wasn’t speeding, but the way the car performed felt fantastic. I gave him my address and he popped it into the GPS. Now we were ready to roll.
“Wow. So, you got your dream car after all,” I said, looking around the car. We were so close to the ground. And the way the engine hummed like an angry beast behind us was exhilarating. “Bet turn ins scare the hell out of you.”
“Lift system fixes a lot of that,” he explained. “Plus, as soon as I knew I was able to, I rushed out to get this… in your favorite color.”
I smiled, choosing not to say anything. Then I kept my focus out the window.
People whipped out their phones and gave Sam a thumbs up. An attention catcher, he was always the one people liked.
And the only one I had ever liked…
“Here we are,” he said, pulling up to my shabby apartment building.
“Thanks. Call me tomorrow? I don’t know how all of this is supposed to go down.”
“Me neither,” he said, with a shy grin. He peered at me and then made a small move forward as if he wanted to kiss me. I would have let him, despite my better instincts. But then he stopped. “But, yeah, that sounds like a good next step. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Chapter 7
Sam
I had been about to kiss her. But I was sure she would reject me, and rightfully so. I didn’t want to make things even more awkward then they already were. So, I got out of the car and went to open the door for her.
“You’ll definitely find out more once I figure some more things out,” I reassured her once I opened the door for her, my eyes glued on her the whole time. I didn’t want to let her leave. But I also didn’t feel as if I had the right to make her stay. I was paying her to be my fake wife. Not paying her for her time or affection.
She got out the car, her hips moving around against the fiber of her baby blue silk dress. My cock wanted me to lift it up and peruse the rest of her body just to see how much she’d matured.
“Your dress is beautiful, by the way. It looks perfect on you.”
Wendy bent down, cleavage and all showing. “Thanks,” she said, before noticing she was giving me a good view of her breasts. “Oops, sorry. Giving you quite a show, huh?” she stammered, standing up with her hand over her cleavage. I laughed and somehow my eyes settled on someone watching us.
I couldn’t make out their features too much. But they were staring our way. Since it was pretty dark out, I tried peering better into their direction, and stuck my neck out trying to make out who they might be.
“Something wrong, Sam?” Wendy asked me, as I hobbled slightly on my cane.
“Take my arm, I’ll walk you to your door,” I said, holding my arm out. She looked at me cautiously and then must have decided it wouldn’t hurt. “I don’t know if there are any bad guys lurking around here.
She laughed, but then look
“Hmm, sure. You know, I can fight too.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
Her apartment building was part of four buildings and it was quite dated.
“There aren’t any elevators…” Wendy pointed out, holding onto me.
“That’s fine. I can climb up some stairs. Don’t let the cane fool you,” I chuckled, flashing a smile at her. I glanced behind her to make sure no one was following us, but the coast was clear.
A dainty floral scent passed by me again. It was Wendy’s scent, and it had me spun around in circles.
When we got to her floor and turned around the corner, I saw a man hanging out of the door, smoking a cigarette with a white robe on. I lowered my eyes and stopped.
“Oh, it’s okay, that’s my Dad,” Wendy said, pulling me down the hall. “Hey, Dad!”
He was staring at us and puffed on his cigarette. He squinted his eyes and recognized my face.
“Is that… Sam?” he said, coughing on the end.
“Yes, hello, Mr. Monroe,” I greeted, holding my hand out.
He noticed my limp and cane as well. That was the main thing people noticed about me when they saw me. I was beginning to wonder if it’d ever change.
He gave me a good shake, holding the cigarette firmly tucked between his lips. He had a little stubble going on. A man in a robe looking like this only cued one thing; depression. I’d know, I went through the same phase.
“How’re you doing, Mr. Monroe?” he asked, a weak smile on his face.
“I’m doing okay, got in an accident, but I’m still recovering.”
He nodded his head and took another drag from his cigarette. “Good.”
“Well, goodnight, Wendy,” I said, kissing her hand.
Her father shifted uncomfortably. Uh oh, after all, that was still his daughter.
“Goodnight,” she whispered.
Nodding my head towards Mr. Monroe, I limped back down the hall to my car.
Once I was close enough to see it, I noticed there were deep scratches above my back tire. I got back into my car and power housed out of there. It had to be the first time I gunned it.
It had to be that man that was staring at us weirdly. There was no way I could keep Wendy there during our agreement. But now wasn’t the
time to bring that up.
***
“Fuck, why did it have to be her?” I sighed to myself as the last ropes of cum dripped over my hands. When I returned back home, I had a hard on that was beyond normal. I could’ve won a sword fight and cut a diamond with it. Reaching for a napkin I cleaned myself up and watched as my swollen cock began to rest and soften back down.
One more thought of her and it’d swell hard again.
My phone rang. This time it wasn’t a number I recognized. Not many people had my number.
Taking a risk, I answered. “Hello, who’s calling?”
“Mr. Reign? This is Mr. Gallock,” the man said on the other end, a slight giddiness in his voice.
“Mr. Gallock, a pleasure hearing from you!” I said, perking up. Benson must’ve slid him my number. After all the things he’d done lately, it wouldn’t come as a surprise.
“Yes, indeed. I was just calling to say I’m happy to be working alongside a strapping young man as he creates his family. Nothing like seeing the American culture lived out into its fullest!” he praised.
Fuck, now I felt how dire this situation was. Wendy was really going to have to play the part. I was hoping that wouldn’t be too hard…
“Of course. I hope to be the turn of the century. My fiance, Wendy can’t wait to meet you.”
“Oh, so that’s her name? Wonderful! Benson said she had a lovely name, but kept it a secret. What a good friend!”
And a devious, slick, sly one as well.
“Yes. Yes, he is. Was there something I could do for you Mr. Gallock?” I asked, tucking my cock back into my boxers.
“No, no, nothing at all for now. Just wanted to touch base with you and say hello before my official arrival. I’ll let you go now. It is night time and after your hard work I bet you’re famished.”
“Very!” I agreed. “Enjoy your night, Mr. Gallock.”
“I will! You too, young lad!”
We hung up and I found myself imitating his cocky accent. ‘Young lad’. Where did he grow up at? The country club?
I climbed off my bed and groaned when I saw the jacuzzi. My first hot bath was interrupted because of Benson’s foolishness. Maybe now I could get a good soak in and relax. After all, I had a lot to look forward too.
