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The Billionaire's Fake Fiancée

Page 7

by Simone Rivers


  She’s hot and wet and tight and so fucking wet, and I think she might be the best sex I’ve ever had. No scratch that, she’s definitely the best sex I’ve ever had. There’s something different about sex with Jane than with other women, something deeper, and I’m not just talking physically. She ropes me in, and I can’t think, can’t focus. The only thing mattering is the two of us here together.

  Each grind of her hips brings me closer to my end, and I desperately want to feel her come on my cock again before I end things, needing to feel that rush again. I slide one hand down her front and roll my thumb around her clit, and she moans and lets her head fall back, supporting herself with her palms on my thighs. She really starts moving then, hips grinding and swiveling down on me, and each thrust brings me closer and closer.

  The room is filled with a mixture of her moans and mine, and before I know it she’s coming again, and the sweet, fluttering heat around my cock pushes me over the edge, and she drags me down with her.

  “Fuck!”

  A slew of curses fall from my lips as I spill myself into her, and she falls forward with her hands pressed to my chest, her lips crashing into mine in a desperate, gasping kiss. I can feel her heartbeat against mine, and she whimpers and whines as she starts to come down, chest heaving she slumps forward. I wrap my arms around her and hold her there, slowly catching my breath and trying to come down.

  “You know,” she says with a chuckle, still breathless, “I think you were right, this was better than dinner out.”

  That catches me off guard and I laugh, Jane laughing right along with me as she rolls off of me and onto her side next to me. I pull her in close, so her back is to my chest, and I place playful nips and kisses to the back of her neck, my hand draped over her middle. We lay like that for a few minutes, and it’s not long before I feel her relax completely against me, drifting off to sleep and making me smile. I’m not far behind her, and I drift off to the sounds of the city in the background and the feel of her breathing against mine, lulling me into a deep sleep.

  I wake up in the morning to the sounds of shuffling and soft footsteps. Confused, I reach to the other side of the bed for Jane only to realize that the bed is empty. I squint and force my eyes open as I sit up, realizing that the noises I heard were her getting her clothes back on and gathering her things, clearly trying to duck out before I woke up. I’ll be honest, it hurts a little bit, and I sigh and pat the bed, shrugging my shoulders at her.

  “What gives? Come back to bed, it’s so early.”

  “I’ve really got to get going. there’s a lot to do today, and I need to get ready.”

  “Oh, alright, sure.”

  I’m not about to sit here and beg her to stay—that would be humiliating and it’s not my style—so I just nod and offer to call her a car, which she politely refuses and says she already called one. She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and then jets out the door, leaving me sitting there still half asleep, wondering what just happened.

  We had a great time last night and she obviously enjoyed herself—four times in fact, if I counted correctly—and there was no mention last night of her wanting to leave. I get up and decide to get myself ready for the day and have a shower, trying not to focus on the fact that I was just left high and dry with no explanation why. This isn’t me. I don’t get hung up on women and I don’t care for them to stay in the morning.

  So then why is this bothering me so much?

  16

  Jane

  I love every minute I spend with Riker, but I need to get home to my daughter. I don’t know if he understands or not. Riker is amazing. He makes my heart flutter in ways I never expected. I don’t know if he’ll understand, though, that I am a parent first and foremost. I hope he does, but I guess that has yet to be seen.

  I can’t wait to see her. Riker has a press conference later in the day as a couple, but I really want to spend some time with Nia. I’m practically bouncing in the car. The ache for her in my heart only grows with each mile we get closer to her. I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel a tug back towards her whenever I’m far away. And I have been far away too long.

  I practically run to the door when I get home. Everything else fades away, and my vision tunnels looking for Nia. I worry for a moment, thinking I’ll have to search room to room, making me wait even longer to see her. But, as I walk in, she comes running in from the other room with a grin plastered across her beautiful face. Her babysitter follows gives me a little wave from behind Nia. I hear that magic word.

  “Mommy!” She exclaims.

  We both rush towards each other, and I kneel down to meet the hug she’s opening her arms for. I squeeze her tightly to me and she squeezes back. I bury my face in her beautiful curly hair. Her hair smells like coconut. But, more importantly, she smells like home. Everything else melts away as my heart centers again. Riker, Manhattan… as nice as it all was, it’s now a distant memory.

  “Nia, I missed you so much!” I say to her, trying to express in words how much my heart longed to be here. I never want her to think that she isn’t my top priority.

  “I missed you too, mommy,” she says. I briefly wonder how much time I have for moments like this. Soon enough, she’ll be a teenager, and she’ll become too cool to hang out with mom. I push the thought away.

  I hold the hug for a moment longer, savoring the feeling. I pull away and smile.

  “Now, I think it’s time to relax,” I tell Nia with a laugh. I nod to the babysitter. “Please, feel free to take a break. I hope this one didn’t give you too much trouble!”

  “You know she doesn’t, Jane. Nia’s a good kid,” she says with a laugh. She gives us another wave before disappearing into the other room.

  Nia smiles up at me, and my heart melts. “So much happened while you were gone, mommy!” She exclaims. She drags me over to her dolls and gives me the latest rundown on their epic adventures.

  When I’m caught up on all the latest aspects of their romances and courtroom drama (I think for a moment that my situation with Riker could be one of these stories with her dolls), I take one and begin to play out the next chapter. I try to be as involved as I can with Nia. She doesn’t have any brothers or sisters, so I know I’m it as far as playmates often go. She has her little friends, but at home, the buck stops with me.

  I get up to get a glass of water, and I pass by my discarded purse on the way to the kitchen. I hear a buzz from inside the bag. Shit. I rush over and dig my phone out of my purse. I have plenty of missed calls from Riker. How could I have forgotten? I pull up my messages and start to draft a response apologizing for being away from my phone. Fake marriage or not, that was unprofessional. But I can’t regret the time I spent with Nia.

  Before I can finish the message, however, there’s a knock on the door. My heart flutters. I walk over and open the door, feeling a bit floaty as I do so. I see Riker. My head starts to spin. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. My personal and work life have collided in ways I could have never expected. They don’t teach you how to tell your daughter about your fake marriage to your client in law school.

  “Riker!” I exclaim, unable to form many other words.

  “Jane,” he says with a smile. “Sorry to bother you at home. You weren’t answering your phone, and you left so suddenly.”

  “I’m sorry. I was with Nia.”

  “Yeah, of course. I understand. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. I can’t have my fiancée running away from me too soon.” He laughs.

  I start to feel better about this whole thing. He understands, and we both know where we stand. I know she’s just a little girl, but maybe we can make this work. In spite of myself, I’m feeling hopeful about this situation.

  “Would you like to come in?” I ask. He looks surprised at the offer.

  “Sure. Of course.”

  I step to the side, and he enters my home. It isn’t as fancy or extravagant as what he’s used to, I’m sure. But still, I se
e a smile crawl across his face. He likes it! I smile, too, and my confidence in the situation grows.

  “Follow me,” I say.

  I lead him into the room where Nia is continuing to play with her dolls. I want to grab his hand and interlace his fingers with mine, but I tell myself that this isn’t the time.

  Nia looks up and looks back and forth between Riker and me. She’s confused, but she gives him her patented Nia charm and smiles.

  “Hi!” She says brightly. “I’m Nia.”

  Introducing herself first. Nice move. I’m proud, but where did this kid come from? I think I was in my 20s when I reached that sort of confidence.

  “Hi, Nia,” he responds. “I’m Riker.” He holds out his hand for her to shake.

  Nia looks incredibly pleased to be treated like an adult. I’m impressed too. She giggles as she shakes his hand. She’s taken with him already. I can tell.

  “So, what’s going on here?” He asks, gesturing to the dolls.

  She starts to fill him in on the ongoing drama between all of her dolls. She has such an imagination. I sit on the couch and watch them get to know one another. They’re getting along so well. I’m happy, but I’m also worried. Should I be letting this happen? It’s my job to protect her, but no parenting book has prepared me for this. I know I need to keep her away from the press and the cameras, but what about Riker? He’s so sweet, but what do I really know about him? Do I want her new father-figure to be someone I met in a courtroom?

  I check my phone as they play.

  It’s time to go. I reach out and tap his shoulder.

  “It’s time to go,” I whisper, not wanting it to be true.

  He nods and smiles at Nia. “It was nice meeting you, Nia,” he says.

  “I liked meeting you too, Riker!” She exclaims. I know she means it.

  Riker gets up and steps aside to give me a moment with my daughter.

  I kneel back down in front of her and pull her into another hug.

  “I have to leave again, baby. I’ll miss you.” I want to cry as I say the words.

  She hugs me back. “It’s okay, mommy. I’ll miss you too.”

  She’s wise beyond her years. I breathe out a sigh of relief as I feel her acceptance for me to go and do whatever it is I’m doing with Riker.

  I give her a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Nia. Be good.”

  “I will, Mommy. I love you too.”

  I force myself to pull out of the hug. Real-life beckons. Our babysitter reappears and takes my place on the floor with Nia. It’s hard to leave my daughter, but I have to take this opportunity. I blow her another kiss, and she happily waves at me as I walk away with Riker.

  17

  Jane

  The last thing I want is a press conference. I’ve done more than my share as an attorney, but they’re usually brief and impersonal. Facts only, with a bit of a slant to gain sympathy for my client, but they’re never about me. Not me personally.

  And now this. Riker says it will be fun and exciting, but I see it as a chore. He’s the one who will look better afterward. The bad boy settling down, taking responsibility. Right. But for me, anyone with half a brain will wonder what a girl like me is doing with a guy like him.

  And whirlwind romance? With a man infamous for his sexual exploits and love ‘em and leave ‘em attitude? I have a young daughter. What kind of a mother am I?

  And Terry’s all for it, of course.

  “It will make everyone look good,” she says. “The firm, Riker, and you. Press exposure is the icing on the cake if you handle it right.”

  “And what, exactly, do you consider ‘right’ in this case?”

  “Make it about him, not you. Don’t refer to his past behavior, just play up the fact that he’s family-oriented and waiting for the right woman to settle down with. And you knew the minute you met him you’d found your man. You can do this.”

  I groan inwardly.

  “And remember, it will all blow over soon. People will forget, and you’ll go back to your life. You win? You’re a partner.”

  Partner. Right.

  The exuberant crowd milling around the room is giving me claustrophobia, and I’m not even out there yet. I’m in a small room to the side, peering out through a gap in the heavy curtains. We’re scheduled to start in fifteen minutes, and I’m having doubts. Riker isn’t even here yet. Where the hell is he?

  I kick off my strappy sandals and rub an ankle with the toes of my other foot. I keep the narrow slit as small as possible as I take everything in.

  An enormous fountain is the room’s centerpiece, and waiters balance small trays loaded with beverages and pastries. Someone is laying out food on silver trays surrounded by silver pitchers, glasses, cups, and silver utensils. Glamorous. Expensive. Of course. Who arranged all this? Riker? Or Terry?

  I sigh. Nia keeps popping into my mind, and all I want to do right now is hug her, play with her, love her. Go home and get under the covers with her and take a long nap. And here I am at this ridiculous press conference—

  “Five minutes.” I whirl around, but I don’t see anyone. Where did that voice come from?

  Where. Is. Riker?

  I peek out the curtains again and scan the crowd. It’s doubled, if that’s even possible. Cameras are set up in front of the long table where we’ll sit. A man in a tux is adjusting microphones, and a waiter places water glasses at each seat.

  “Hey. Let me in.” The curtain opens. Riker.

  I jump back and scurry to the dark corner of the room.

  “Shut that damned curtain, will you?” I hiss.

  “Sorry! Jesus, Jane. I was just talking with some people—”

  “You’re not supposed to be out there!”

  “Oh, so what. Relax. What’s the big deal?” He presses tightly against my back and wraps his arms around my shoulders. He’s so warm against my cold, clammy skin, and I lean into him. He runs his big hands up my stomach and over my breasts.

  “We’re supposed to look like we’re madly in love, you know. So, let’s play the part, shall we?” He nuzzles his lips on my neck, and I melt as his hands go lower.

  “Don’t. I won’t be able to—.”

  “One minute and you’re on!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He pulls his arms away and gently turns me around. “Are you okay?”

  I clear my throat. “Sure. Let’s go.” I stare in his beautiful eyes and will myself into some semblance of almost-wedded bliss. A woman in love.

  “Fifteen seconds!”

  “Come on. Let’s go.” Riker grabs my hand and leads me back to the curtain. I slip an arm around his waist, rest my head against his shoulder, and gaze up lovingly, knowing the cameras will start clicking the minute we step out.

  But why does he seem so tall? Does he have wedges in his shoes? I look down, and I see my own bare feet.

  “Oh, my God! My shoes!” I look around frantically and spot them a few steps away. But it’s too late.

  “And here they are! The soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Riker Lord!”

  The curtain disappears as I paste the smile back on my face. The camera flashes are blinding, and I can’t see anything but spots.

  “My shoes! My shoes!” I hiss, smiling but thinking Mrs. Riker Lord? Who said I would take his first and last name? I’m not even going to marry him!

  “What?”

  “I took my shoes off and—”

  Riker laughs and leans down. His arm slips under my knees, and he nearly knocks me over. I grab his shoulders as he lifts me against his chest and takes long strides to our table. I can’t help but laugh.

  “Put me down!” I protest. The crowd roars as they break into applause. Someone rushes to my chair and pulls it out as Riker gently puts me down in front of it. I smooth my snug skirt before sitting, and a waiter rushes toward me, my spike-heeled sandals swinging from his fingers.

  “Allow me,” Riker says. He kneels and caresses a calf, lifting it at the same time with his other hand. He slips the sandal
on and buckles it, then lifts my other leg and does the same. And after kissing my hand and bowing slightly, he takes his seat, beaming. And I beam right back at him.

  “Thank you, Riker.” My voice booms through the microphone. Shit. The crowd is still clapping, but the tuxedo-clad man, apparently the moderator, takes his place at the podium and speaks.

  “Thank you, everyone. Thank you for attending. I assume everyone has had a chance to pick up a press kit at the entrance, but if you haven’t, no worries. You can grab your kits on the way out, and there will be goody bags for everyone.”

  He smiles and gestures to the front of the room. And I realize this is one of the biggest press conferences I’ve ever seen. All the major TV networks are here and far too many reporters to count.

  “We know you’re busy, so we won’t keep you long. We’ll have brief introductions, which are hardly necessary, of course”—he pauses expertly to let cameras catch the laughter—"and then you’ll have the floor for Q&A. How does that sound?”

  The applause isn’t quite as loud this time around, and a few reporters fan themselves with paper.

  “Now, as you know, this is Riker Lord and his beautiful fiancée, Jane Gordon. Riker is well-known for his business success and philanthropic work here in New York. Jane is a successful attorney with one of the largest legal firms in the tri-state area, Ellis and Partners.”

  He turns to us. “You ready, kids?”

  I lean into the microphone, suddenly unafraid. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”

 

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