by Penny Wylder
Heath is gone when I get back to the apartment. I go into my room where there’s a tall mirror. I want to see the dress without Arora there judging me and being suspicious. Even though the dress is for a fake wedding, I want to feel right wearing it. I get it on, but there are so many different buttons and hooks in the back that I can’t do it myself. Still, just holding it up against me, looking in the mirror, it feels all wrong.
I close my eyes and sigh, frustrated. When I open my eyes again, I see Heath’s reflection in the mirror. It gives me a start. He looks equally as stunned. He’s staring at the dress. I look back at my own reflection, trying to see what he sees. The only thing that feels right about this whole thing is Heath. That’s when I realize that my feelings for him have tipped past the point of no return. For me this has become more than a working relationship and it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed him, or started giving him a massage. I shouldn’t have put my mouth on him last night.
I shouldn’t have done any of those things, but I can bring myself to regret it. I now know why the dress doesn’t feel right. It’s because I don’t want it to be a dress for a fake marriage with Heath. I want what he and I have to be real.
But it’s not real and it can’t be. I’m here for a job. Heath doesn’t want me. Mandi’s words swirl around in my head about how I’m not good enough. I’ll never be the kind of girl a guy like him goes for. I don’t have the wealth or the status. I’m bad for the image he seems to care so much about.
“You look incredible,” he says.
I feel the pressure of tears behind my eyes. I can’t cry in front of him.
“I have to go,” I say, but when I try to leave, my feet get tangled up in the train and I fall to my knees. I’m not hurt, but I stay there anyway, fighting tears and this new emotional sandbag I’ve brought on myself.
Heath comes to me and kneels by my side. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks when I cover my face.
“I hate this dress.”
“Why? You look beautiful. You’re the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen.”
His words aren’t helping. They make me want to cry even more. I laugh to keep from crying. “This is all so stupid,” I say under my breath. I don’t think he heard my words. If he did, he doesn’t ask what I mean by it.
I reach back behind me to try to undo the buttons. This dress wasn’t as hard to put on as it is to take off. Once I undo the buttons, I realize the zipper is stuck. Jesus Christ, is this a dress or a straightjacket? It’s starting to feel like both.
“Let me help you,” Heath says, and wiggles the zipper until it comes loose. He unzips it and pulls the dress off my shoulders.
He then helps me to stand up. When I do, the dress slips down and pools at my feet. I’m not wearing a bra, or anything else except a pair of thong underwear.
His gaze starts at my feet and slowly—very slowly—takes in every line, every curve of my body until our eyes meet. He looks at me with unfiltered lust. He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s hard and I do nothing to hide my nakedness from him.
Taking a step forward, he takes my shoulders and turns me away from the mirror to face him. His eyes are bright with want and something more than just lust, maybe. Or maybe I just want him to feel the same way that I do so I’m imagining things.
He caresses my shoulders and moves his hands down my arms. It tickles and feels amazing at the same time. Then he kisses me. Not a sweet, teasing kiss. It’s the kind that demands all of my attention, and lets me know he’s not messing around. This kiss speaks more than words ever could and makes promises about what’s to come.
His lips move down to my neck. I tilt my head back, giving him as much room as he needs. His tongue is so soft and warm. I start to imagine what it would feel like on other parts of my body. That thought sends a shiver through me.
“Are you cold?” he says.
I shake my head. “The opposite.” I pull my fingers through his hair. “I’m so hot right now. I want you.”
His lips crash against mine and our mouths tangle in a passionate kiss. His hands wander to my breasts where he cups them and pinches my nipples between his fingertips. The sensation flares through my nerve endings until I feel every part of me lighting up. I moan and deepen our kiss. When we part, he wastes no time locking his lips onto one of my breasts while his hand discovers the other one. He suckles and bites, giving both pleasure with tinges of pain, just enough to make things interesting and keep my body at attention.
His hands explore every part of me meticulously as if he were trying to memorize me by touch. He parts with my breast just long enough for him to take off his shirt. I don’t get the chance to admire his cut chest before he latches back on, but this time on the other breast that hasn’t received its fair amount of attention.
My pussy aches for him. I don’t know how much longer I can bear to not have him inside of me. But then again, what he’s doing to my breasts is fucking brilliant, and I don’t want him to stop doing that either.
I help him out of his pants and boxers and slip off my panties. Now we’re both naked and on the same playing field. He pulls in a sharp breath when I grip him. Then I slowly begin to stroke.
“I want you inside of me,” I beg.
He pulls his mouth away from me. When our eyes meet, there’s no longer any hesitation there. “Not yet.”
“But—”
“Get your dildo,” he says.
I look at him, shocked. “How do you know about my dildo?”
His lips form a teasing smile. “I came in here to check on you this morning. You were asleep. I saw it on your dresser.”
I’m too turned on to be embarrassed. I walk over to the night stand, grab it out of the drawer and come back to him with it. The way he’s looking at me, I know I’m in for the ride of my life.
8
Heath
I rub her clit and finger her silky pussy, making sure she’s good and ready for the dildo I hold in my hands. Her juices run down my fingers, into my palm, and down my wrist. She lets out the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard.
“Bend over,” I say.
She starts to bend over.
“No, in front of the mirror.”
She stands in front of the mirror and watches me with sultry, hooded eyes. I take her by the hips and turn her so her ass is facing the mirror.
“On your knees,” I say.
She smiles and I can tell she likes where this is going. She kneels down and bends over until the side of her face is against the carpet.
“Can you see yourself?” I ask. My cock pulses at the sight of her splayed and open to me. I love that she’s so confident and there’s not on ounce of self-consciousness while being exposed and vulnerable.
She moves her head so she can watch. “Yes,” she says, panting.
She looks fucking amazing at this angle, and by the way she’s moving her hips to get the best possible angle, I think she knows it. Her pussy is satin-pink, wet, and slightly gaping, her asshole a perfect little knot.
I spread her folds apart, which causes her to drip on the carpet and I nearly come at the sight of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been with a girl who’s gotten this wet before.
She moans. “Fuck me, please.” When I put the head of the dildo against her opening she begs for it. She gasps when I slowly push it inside of her. It’s halfway in when I finally meet some resistance. She moves her hips and it goes further in and her moans fill the room. I work it in and out of her, enjoying the show of filling her up.
I kneel behind her and suck on her clit while the dildo is inside of her and listen to her chant, “Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes.”
“I want you inside of me,” she says.
I want to fuck her more than anything, but when we do, I don’t want it to be under the weight of this fake marriage.
“Not until the wedding night,” I tease.
“I thought you wer
en’t old fashioned.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Then I want you in my mouth,” she says.
She rises so she’s on her hand and knees. She grabs the dildo from me and starts working it inside of her with one hand while keeping her balance with the other. I stand in front of her. She opens her mouth and I slip the head of my cock between her full wet lips. I smooth the hair away from her eyes. She looks up at me, watching my face as she gives me head. She does this thing with her tongue where she swirls it around the head and the sensitive under side that makes it nearly impossible to keep from blowing my load. It takes a small miracle to hold it in. I’m not coming until she gets hers.
I force myself to keep my eyes open to see the show, but my body just wants to give into this amazing sensation.
If this were real. If we were real, this could be our life. I could be fucking the most beautiful, fun, amazing girl I’ve ever met on a regular basis. She would be mine.
The sounds of her moans change, becoming desperate. She works the dildo faster, her hand a blur in the mirror as she fucks herself. I know she’s close. So am I. She’s an expert at this, and I still can’t believe I’ve lasted this long.
One more thrust into her mouth and I explode.
Her whole body starts to shake, and I watch, enraptured as she’s racked by orgasm contractions. The dildo slips out, covered in her cum, her pussy raw from friction. She turns over and lays on her back. I lay next to her, utterly spent.
We’re both out of breath, but quiet and content. It was incredible. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman I’ve actually cared about, that I’d forgotten how amazing it could feel with the right person.
“You’re incredible,” I tell her.
She gives me a lust-drunk smile. “So are you.”
I roll over onto my side and kiss her shoulder. I glance over at the dress piled on the floor in the corner. “Why do you hate the dress?” I ask.
She glances over at the white pile of lace and satin and cringes.
“I guess that’s probably not how I should be treating a dress that cost a fortune, but right now I’m having a hard time convincing myself to care.” She looks at me with those beautiful eyes and sex-flushed face. There’s still beads of sweat dotting her forehead. She shrugs. “It felt wrong, picking it out, since this is all fake.”
Even though I’m very aware that our arrangement isn’t the real thing, it still burns to hear her say it. I try not to let it affect me, but it’s impossible. The smile I’d had plastered to my face just moments ago slips away. Now I couldn’t force a smile even if I wanted to.
“It’s fine,” she says quickly, and I know she sees the change in me. “I’ll wear it and do the job.”
I stare up at the ceiling. “If you’d like a different dress, feel free to get it. I’ve left my black card on the kitchen counter for all of your needs while you’re here.” I stand up and put my clothes on. I can’t be here right now. “I have to get back to work.”
I leave without another glance.
9
Heath
Sitting at my desk, there’s a pile of work in front of me that needs to get done, but I can’t concentrate. Sylph’s words haunt me: ‘It felt wrong, picking out the dress, since this is all fake’. Maybe the marriage is fake but it isn’t all fake. At least it’s not for me.
But maybe it is for her. I keep asking myself, if this is just a job for her then why has she been intimate with me? The only answer I have come up with is because she must have feelings for me. But now I wonder if maybe she just enjoys sex. I can’t fault her for that. I too enjoy sex. But with Sylph it’s more than that. Now I’m starting to realize it may be one sided.
I shouldn’t have walked out on her the way I did. She’ll think I’m mad.
Sighing, I know there’s nothing I can do about that now. There’s only a few more hours until I have to go meet up with my family.
10
Sylph
Heath’s family hates me. It’s been several days since we met them for dinner and they haven’t made any effort to meet up with me or get to know me since. I guess I should be thankful for that because they are awful. Not his mom, and I guess not his dad, really, since he didn’t really say much throughout the dinner, but the twins are the worst. I knew Arora was going to be a handful after dress shopping with her, but when she and Theo get together, they are a freaking tornado. The way they deliver underhanded insults is a true talent because while they’re tearing you apart, it feels strangely like a compliment and I never really felt the digs until later when I laid in bed and thought about them.
Heath was mostly quiet through dinner with his family, only speaking up on occasion to tell the twins to back off. If he was wanting to sell the relationship between us, he was doing a poor job of it. He did nothing but brood the whole night, then, when we got home, he went straight to his room and didn’t come out the rest of the night. I’d wanted to knock on his door to see if he wanted company, but had the distinct feeling his broodiness had something to do with me.
It’s Friday evening and close to time to leave for the rehearsal. I go to Heath’s room and knock on the door. We haven’t really spoken since we had dinner with his parents—not in any real way. Not like we had been before that.
He opens the door, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet from his shower. There’s still a few specks of shaving cream on his chin and the sides of his face. He wipes them off with a hand towel as he stands there waiting to hear why I’ve knocked.
I take several deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Why am I so nervous right now?
“Hi,” I say.
The corner of his mouth twitches into something like a smile. “Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.”
He steps aside, letting me into his room. I walk in. The air is humid. There’s condensation on the mirrors. He must have taken a hot shower with the door open.
“What’s up?” he asks.
He sits on the bed and pats the empty spot next to him. I sit.
“I shouldn’t be nervous about today, right?” I ask.
This will be the first time since that awkward dinner that I will spend any real time with his family.
“Of course not. I’ll be right there with you.”
I shake my head. “But you won’t. You haven’t been here with me since we fooled around in my room. I did something wrong. Or maybe I said something, but ever since then, you’ve changed. I just … I want you back. The way you were with me. I don’t think I can pull this off without you.”
I hadn’t realized how tense he was in my presence until I see his shoulders relax. He reaches for me and puts his hand on my cheek, brushing his thumb across the line of my jaw. I feel myself melting into his touch.
“I promise, I’m here for you.”
“Then kiss me.”
He hesitates. It’s only for a second but it’s there. He leans over and gives me a soft peck on the lips. But I want more. I want to feel him all over me, inside of me. I want the comfort of his weight on top of me. I try to deepen the kiss, but he pulls away.
Standing up, he says, “I should finish getting ready. We’ll have to leave soon.”
I suppress a groan and leave the room.
We get to the venue where the wedding will take place. It’s a hotel, but not like any hotel I’ve ever seen. It looks more like a castle. The wedding will happen on the back lawn which is stunning. The grass is perfectly manicured with an incredible view of the ocean. Surrounding the area where the guests will sit is a botanical garden. Everyone will be bathed in the floral scents of tea roses, gardenias, and canna lily. In the middle of the garden is a long staircase that makes a slight decline from the reception hall down to a circular path that wraps around a large cherub fountain.
With all the twinkling lights sprinkled over every shrub and sugar maple tree, it’s like a fairytale. If this were real, if it were truly my wed
ding, it would be a dream come true. But it’s not. Someday, when Heath finds the woman he wants to marry, this will be her reality.
I glance at him and find that he’s watching me. Looking at him, I feel a profound sadness and I’m on the verge of tears.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head and swallow the thickness in my throat. “Nothing. It’s just all so beautiful it’s overwhelming.
“You look sad,” he says.
I hate lying to him, but what am I supposed to say? That I’m falling in love with him and I wish all of this were real? He’d probably fire me on the spot. No, I can’t tell him how I really feel. It would ruin everything.
So instead I tell him, “Not sad, just nervous.” Which, the last part is true.
He looks almost disappointed, like he wanted me to admit I was sad.
Everyone starts to show up. I don’t know who any of these people are. I wish Mandi were here so I would at least know one person. She’s been avoiding me. I know she is, but I can’t figure out why. I’ve even tried to ambush her in front of the apartment, but it’s as if she can sense me and ends up not showing up.
People seem to be suspicious that I don’t have any family in the wedding party or friends in the crowd. I don’t really have any friends outside of Mandi, and there’s no way I could tell my parents about my fake marriage. They wouldn’t play along. They’re always worried about me not having any money and they would see this job as me getting desperate. They would want me to come home. And while they would never come right out and call me a failure, I would feel like one. Before leaving home they begged me not to move away, but I insisted I could make it on my own. I want to prove that I can. Which is why I can’t tell them anything about this fake wedding. I start to wonder if there’s also a service that provides fake families along with fake brides. There should be. I’ll have to pitch the idea to Mandi if I ever see her again.
