Fake Fiancé

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Fake Fiancé Page 3

by Jessa James


  “He’s a hard sell,” I told her. Beneath the soft lights of the restaurant, she looked even more beautiful. Full lips, high cheekbones, pale blue eyes. But she had something most of the other women I’d been with didn’t. Brains. She was attractive and smart.

  “You don’t have the kind of track record that inspires confidence. Don’t worry, I know the score.”

  For once, I felt a little ashamed of my history with women. I wanted Chloe to like me. Hell, for some reason I wanted her to respect me.

  “That’s why you’re going to have to play it totally straight until people actually believe that you believe it yourself. I don’t think it will be easy for you.”

  She was right. Unless I seriously wooed Chloe Hansen this plan didn’t bode well, but if I wanted Tommy to renew my contract I had to play the game. Hockey was the most important thing in the world. The reality was that I could chase pussy or play hockey but not do both.

  It was a hell of a choice. She represented the corporate bigwigs and I hated the idea that she might understand my weakness for women. No, she knew it, especially after Johnny’s little visit.

  I brushed her concern off. “Don’t worry about me. You might not know me or believe what you’ve read about me, but I’ll play my part.” I felt like I needed to keep up my edge, my tough exterior. I wasn’t ready to have any woman, no matter who they were, breaking down my walls.

  She studied me for a minute. “All right. I’ll believe you. Besides, I’ve got three months to find out for myself. But this isn’t a joke. Once the word is out that you’re seeing me, especially after our engagement, the press will be watching us both like hawks. I’m an unknown, and it won’t be as intense for me, but they’ll be expecting you to backslide. You’ll see reporters lurking, waiting to catch you with another woman. No matter how smart you think you are, you can’t sneak around and get away with it.”

  “Despite what you think, I’ve never cheated on a woman,” I emphasized the words clear and slow. “And losing the chance to play hockey isn’t worth the risk of shagging some bimbo,” I said.

  “And it was before now?” she asked.

  Good point.

  I shrugged. “I’m reformed, remember?”

  “Good, but you better be prepared for some of these reporters to try setting you up.” She took a sip of her wine.

  I frowned. “Set me up how?”

  “Any number of ways.” She ran her finger over the rim of her glass and I watched the motion. My cock twitched, eager for the same motion over the crown. Good thing I was sitting down. I wouldn’t be able to hide my hard-on.

  “They might pay a woman to try and get you to cheat on me and when you do…well, if that happens your career is going down the tubes.”

  Shit. She was right. It may have been the first thing we truly agreed on.

  “Game day is the worst,” I told her.

  She arched one tapered brow. “Why?”

  “That’s when the women are all over us—the players. They swarm when we leave the security area and go out to the parking garage. They’re after autographs, but many want a hot night and the press know it.”

  Games always got me worked up, and the rougher the game…well, Winnipeg played as hard as we did and that was great for me and the fans. But afterward, I’d want to get laid because the rush hadn’t worn off. I’d gotten used to having lots of women around who wanted to oblige and game day was easy pickings. I kept condoms in my locker so I could stuff some in my pocket when I left. I always knew they’d be waiting outside for the team. Some would stuff a phone number in my hand or in my pocket. Many would rub their bodies against me and make wonderful, filthy suggestions. Giving one of them a call from my car and telling her where to meet me was never a problem.

  Some were trouble though.

  A few weeks back there’d been a curvy brunette with shoulder-length hair and lush, sensuous lips who’d walked beside me all the way to my car, whispering in my ear that she’d do whatever I wanted right there in the parking garage. I might be a little wild, but I didn’t do public fucking, so we’d gone to a party. A wild party the cops busted.

  Turned out, the groupie was holding drugs. She’d wanted to go to the party to deal. She got busted and the lot of us were taken downtown to give a statement. I wasn’t charged with anything, but the press got word I’d arrived with the drug-dealing brunette and by reading the tabloids you’d think I’d been convicted of dealing.

  That was when I’d learned that the people who signed the checks were more concerned about my image than I’d ever been. That was why they brought in Chloe to act as my keeper.

  For tonight, for the next few weeks anyway, that meant being out with her.

  “I’ll attend every game,” she said. “I’ll have security let me in to meet you when you come out of the locker room. I’ll be with you when you walk to your car. In fact, you won’t drive. I’m arranging transportation from now on.”

  I sighed. That would work…unfortunately. I’d have to pretend that I was going to score with my fiancée, but in truth, there was a chance I’d have blue balls for three months.

  Still, I could I let my eyes wander over Chloe’s body without harm, and I did now. I tried to snap out of it. I didn’t want to appear like I was daydreaming or picturing her naked. I was, but Chloe didn’t need to know that. I couldn’t get a handle on her yet. I didn’t know her hot buttons, but the reality of what I’d agreed to do was sinking in. I couldn’t imagine not playing for the Blizzards, not having my contract renewed. Tom knew I’d do anything to make that happen. But I hated that Chloe was running the show and had me by the balls.

  All eyes would be on me and I didn’t have any leeway to screw up. This was my one chance not to fuck it up. I’d gotten myself into this mess and I had to do as Chloe said to get myself out of it. The thought made me sweat. I had so much riding on whether this worked. I just hoped Chloe knew what she was doing. She claimed to be the best at her trade, and I was ready to see her in action.

  While I was tense throughout dinner, she acted totally at ease. I just had to wait and vent my frustrations and pound my aggressions out on other people. On the ice. It was one of the only jobs where that type of behavior was actually acceptable. That paid me the big bucks.

  We were interrupted a couple of times during dinner, first by Randall, a teammate who wanted to meet Chloe. Randall played right wing. He was good, but I couldn’t say I liked him. Even more, I didn’t like the way he looked at Chloe, like he thought she was completely fuckable and wasting her time on me.

  “You’re out of your league, Blake,” Randall, whispered as he left. “You should hand off the play.”

  “Fuck off,” I replied. My blood boiled but I bit my tongue and kept my cool, even though it was eating me alive to do so.

  Chloe heard him. That knowing smile was back on her pretty face. I watched the glow of her blue eyes and saw that she met my gaze levelly. Her self-confidence made her even hotter and I looked her over again, letting my eyes savor the curves of the bare tops of her breasts that her low-cut dress showed teasingly. Fortunately, I knew Randall wouldn’t have a shot with Chloe since she was busy being my fiancée for the next three months. My cock pulsed knowing no one else would have her.

  Next over was Bert Walker, who wrote a column for the Chronicle. He was a sports writer, but he mostly wrote gossip. He liked to cover the scene, writing about contracts and business shit. That was his excuse for coming by, but there was going to be a piece about my date in the next edition instead, I was sure. “So, I guess Tom isn’t thrilled about your recent publicity,” he said, not even introducing himself. I had to do it for him. The dude had never been good with subtlety.

  “He’s over the moon about it. It’s attention, Bert.”

  “Nothing he can sell in this market, Blake. It’s a new age, era of the corporate, polished superstar, wouldn’t you say, Ms. Hansen?”

  She smiled. “Mr. Walker, most women will always have a thing for b
ad boys, even if it’s fantasy. Advertisers know that. It might not sell four-wheel drive pickups, but if they want to get to the soccer moms they can’t ignore it.”

  He laughed. “Point taken, Ms. Hansen, point taken.” And then, having learned what he wanted to know, or just gotten some quote he could use, he left us.

  “Tomorrow’s story will be about how the hot PR lady likes bad boys,” I told her.

  She cocked her head and gave me an amused smile. “That fits our storyline nicely, doesn’t it? This dinner is working rather well.”

  I watched the rise and fall of those lovely breasts. I wanted to cup them, test their weight, watch as her nipples hardened beneath my thumbs. Suck on them until they were cherry red and she was close to coming.

  I cleared my throat. “So, what happens after dinner?”

  “Besides dessert?”

  Was she insinuating something? Was that a hint? This girl was fucking with me for sure. I raised an eyebrow at her.

  Chloe looked like a decadent, expensive and delicious dessert and I found myself imagining easing that dress down, baring her breasts and letting the slinky dress fall to the floor, leaving her in just her panties and sky high heels. If I got her into bed, so worked up she was begging me to fuck her, maybe I could keep my sanity. It might work out, letting the world think she was leading me around by the nose for a while if I was running things behind closed doors.

  She tipped her head. “After dinner you take me home.”

  I looked at her mouth. Her lips were curled into a cool poise of a half smile, half smirk. Her face was more relaxed than it had been in the office, more sensual.

  “I should go in,” I agreed. “If we’re supposed to be a couple, I wouldn’t just drop you off.”

  “You wouldn’t?” she teased.

  “Here we are, in love…damn right I’d go in.” I put my forearms on the table, leaned in. “Like you said, you never know if the press will be watching.”

  “They won’t see much through closed blinds.” Ah, she wasn’t into public sex. That was fine with me. When I got her naked, I didn’t want anyone else to see her. Her body, her cries of desire, would be mine.

  “They’ll see me go in.” I shrugged. “If I announced an engagement to a girl they thought I hadn’t even slept with…well, we’d be better off trying to convince them I’d gotten religion overnight.”

  No matter what she did, she couldn’t erase my past.

  “That’s true,” she said.

  She didn’t seem to mind me looking her over or having me in her apartment and I wondered if that was what she had in mind. She was killer smart, but this was a job to her. I was a job. Not a one-night-stand. Or a three-month-fling.

  “Meeting Randall and the writer was an excellent start. We’ve established ourselves as a couple and we need to keep it up from now on.”

  I wanted to tell her the thought that popped into my head: Around this woman my cock would always be up.

  “So, when we get to my place, you’ll come in with me. You should stay a while, probably leave in the early morning.”

  She wasn’t the kind who fucked on the first date. That was obvious. But we had three months. I sipped my wine and wondered if she had some kind of wild streak she kept hidden, maybe I could bring it out into the open once we got to know each other better. She couldn’t be an ice queen, not with that body, not with that self-confident smile. All I needed to do was find the key that unlocked her, got me between those luscious thighs. That would at least give me something to do, some kind of desirable goal to chase until the damn contracts were signed.

  Chapter Five

  Chloe

  Once back in my apartment, Blake settled on the couch as I got us each a drink. I tried not to show how much my hands were shaking as I gave him his beer. I was feeling surprisingly jittery, unsure of how this night would unfold now that we were back at my place, and alone. Not that I was going to let anything happen. This was work. Nothing more.

  “Stay put,” I said as I pulled the blinds, making sure to leave them open a crack.

  He narrowed his eyes, still not liking taking orders. I’d brought him a beer. “Where are you going?”

  “The script calls for me to change into something more comfortable.”

  “The script?”

  “You were right about the press. We already have an audience. I assume it’s reporters that followed us from the restaurant. They smell a scoop.”

  “How would they know anything?” he growled.

  “My guess is that as soon as Bert Walker called in his story he decided to pick up some extra cash by tipping off the tabloids about the all-star hockey player’s new girlfriend.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  I was surprised by his anger. He didn’t seem to have a problem with tabloids when he’d been at that party with the drug-dealing brunette.

  “Well, more power to him. That was exactly what we wanted. I expected to have more time to prepare, but that’s okay.” I dared a glance out of the partially opened blinds. I couldn’t see anything other than the blanket of nighttime darkness, but I knew they were there and that made my heart race. I was used to writing the script, not being one of the performers, especially with the leading man being a guy like Blake.

  He raised his glass. “Well, here’s to something more comfortable.”

  As he leaned back, I went into the bedroom and changed out of my heels and tight dress and into a robe. It didn’t show anything, but it was sexy and I had panties on, just in case, although I wasn’t sure what I was concerned about. Yes, this was work, but I was a woman. Did I want to impress Blake and not just the media?

  When I walked into the living room, I caught a flicker of interest in Blake’s face. That irrational, maddening warm feeling between my legs lit me up again. This was annoying. I’d handled bad boys before, but most of them weren’t nearly as sexy as they thought and I found them totally resistible. Blake Collins was just as taken with himself, but something about the chemistry between us was dangerous and different. I was drawn to him by some unstoppable force. I wasn’t sure if he felt the same connection but I would find out soon enough. The game meant I had to look sexy when I was with him, pay attention to him, be close and generally try to appear smitten…that all added to the real heat I felt and I was afraid that over time my actions would turn into real feelings. I already knew I had lust in the bag, whether I wanted it or not.

  Walking into the living room and feeling his eyes on me, I felt naked and exposed. Vulnerable. I took a deep breath and smiled, feeling awkward for the first time since our encounter began.

  We were playing roles, but me? I had two. I was sure every actress worth her salt had moments of insecurity while playing a part, or at least that was what I tried to tell myself. I had to make most of the world think I felt for Blake and let lust dictate my actions. I had to make them think he’d bedded me and I’d fallen in love with him.

  He had to play his part in that, which probably wasn’t too hard since he had women flinging themselves at him all the time. I also had to make Blake think I was only acting when I stared at him with longing and need, that I was solely keeping a professional attitude about him. My mind was playing ping pong with itself over these roles and I was exhausted already—and it was just the first night.

  I did want the conceited jerk, but I couldn’t afford to let him know. I craved his touch. I hadn’t felt that kind of desire for a man in a long time. I hadn’t slept with one for over two years, and the last time had been a disaster.

  I focused my attention back on the role. Shadows near the window told me that the reporters had discovered the crack in the blinds. As much as their presence outside of my apartment window totally creeped me out and made me feel violated, I had to stay focused here. I knelt on the couch beside Blake and ran my fingers through his soft hair, then looked at the window more obviously and looked shocked.

  “Oh my God! People are looking in.” I jumped up and ran to the win
dow and closed the blinds completely.

  Blake laughed. “Now what?”

  I picked up my phone. “I’m going to report a peeping Tom,” I said, tugging my robe as closed as possible. “After the police come and we make our statements, you should go home.”

  He leaned back and I saw the bulge in his pants. “Do I have to?”

  It was exactly the right thing to do. I knew it was. But as I called the police and heard them promise to send a car around, I wanted him to grab me and throw me on the floor, yank the panties off my hips and fuck me silly.

  Just thinking of it made my knees grow weak.

  “Yes, you do,” I said, but I was burning to have him inside me. I had to follow the plan, even if I wore the batteries out on my vibrator in the process.

  Chapter Six

  Blake

  “You have a simple part,” Chloe had said. “Just suck it up and get it done,” was her advice, accompanied by that half smile that I found both infuriated me and turned me on. She didn’t like that I had balked at the idea of the press conference to announce our engagement.

  “It’s making too much of it.” I wanted it to seem real. I mean, who the fuck threw a press conference after they got engaged? It just wasn’t normal, sports star or not, but apparently my opinion didn’t mean shit to Chloe.

  She was adamant. “Look, if I was getting engaged to you for real I would insist on a press conference. As your PR person, I’d tell you that love stories are pure gold. As your girlfriend, I’d want to put all those bimbos who chase after you on notice that you are no longer in play.”

  Ultimately, I had to admit she was right. Still, I walked into the hotel with an uneasy churning in the pit of my stomach that made me feel a lot like I used to just before a game when I was first in the pros.

  Okay, I had stage fright. As much as I hated to admit it, the limelight wasn’t exactly my favorite thing. I loved the attention of sexy women, sure, but when it came to the media being in my face all the time, I honestly hated it. I’d gotten into hockey when I was a kid because I loved the game. Sure, I became good enough to make a career out of it. Sure, money and babes were definite perks, but it had never been about the fame.

 

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