Pretend I'm YoursA Fake Marriage Romance

by Ella Miles

  I wake up suddenly as I’m thrown from another nightmare about my father’s death. I try to wipe the tears streaming down my cheeks, but I can’t move. I’m pinned to the hotel bed by a hot stranger’s arm.

  His arm feels nice, stretched across my body—that is, until I realize we are both naked. Completely naked. Not I’m-wearing-underwear-and-a-bra kind of naked. No, I’m completely naked. He is, too. I know because his leg is draped over me, and his erection is pressed against my hip.

  I lie in the bed, frozen, not sure what to do. I don’t want to wake him, but I can’t stay here in bed all day. Although it does feel good to be wrapped in a hot stranger’s arms.

  I know how this goes though. As soon as he wakes up, I’ll awkwardly try to get dressed while he tries to find the best way to kick me out as fast as possible. I can’t handle that—not today, not ever.

  Maybe if I just slowly slip off the bed, I can get out, get dressed, and slip out of the hotel room before he even wakes up. Then, I can avoid the awkwardness that is bound to happen if he wakes up. Then, I can go back to my own bed and forget this ever happened—except, after a night like last night, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget. I’ve never orgasmed so hard in my life. My only regret is, we didn’t actually have sex. So, I have no idea why Killian is completely naked.

  I gently begin moving his arm off my chest, already feeling the cold the second his arm falls to the bed. I wince, afraid he is going to wake up, but he doesn’t. I wipe the tears off of my face. Now, I just have to get out from beneath his leg. I try to shimmy off the bed, but I can’t. His leg is holding me in place. I try lifting—

  “What are you doing, princess?”

  I glance over at Killian. His eyes are still shut. His five o’clock shadow has grown slightly overnight.

  “Um…” I swallow hard. “I need to pee, and I have a meeting in five hours that I need to get to.”

  He leans over and softly kisses me on the lips. “I’ll order breakfast then.”

  He moves off of me and gets out of bed. I watch his bare ass as he walks to his suitcase. He pulls out a pair of jeans and slips them on without putting underwear on first. I curiously look at this man. His body is even better than I imagined. I just wish I could have seen the front of his body.

  He leaves me alone in the bed.

  Weird. My experience after almost one-night stands is that the guy wants you out fast. If not that, then I would assume he would be looking for sex. But Killian did neither of those things. Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive?

  I shake my head. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. Today will be the last day I ever see him, but it still stings. It hurts that he doesn’t even want to have sex with me.

  I get dressed quickly, but linger in the bedroom because I’m embarrassed. He has seen me naked and done untold things to my body while I barely even touched his.

  Maybe he wanted a blow job, and I didn’t even offer?

  Maybe he has a girlfriend?

  Maybe he was drunker than I thought and has a hangover?

  Maybe he’s into guys?

  When I hear the door to the hotel room open and shut, followed closely by the smell of bacon, I can’t hide out in the bedroom any longer. My stomach growls loudly as I open the door.

  Killian, still shirtless, is pouring coffee at the small table. He stops and looks at me as I enter the room. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t have to. His eyes say everything—that he’s attracted to me, that he wishes I were naked again and back in bed—but something is holding him back from doing what he really wants. I just wish I knew what that was.

  I let my eyes drop to his body as I make my way over to the table that is large for a hotel room, even for a suite. From the looks of his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out but not in the obsessed-with-the-gym sort of way. Just in the I-care-about-my-body-and-want-to-be-healthy-and-look-good sort of way.

  My mouth is gaping, I realize, as I stare at his body. “I, uh…your body…you look good,” I say, trying to make up for why I’m gawking awkwardly at him.

  He chuckles at my broken words. I quickly bite my lip to keep it from falling open again and saying anything more embarrassing.

  “I didn’t know what you would want for breakfast, so I ordered two options. There is a healthy or a I-want-to-die-happy option.”

  I take a seat opposite him and grab the plate with the pancake, eggs, and bacon. His eyes grow wide, but he doesn’t say anything.

  I smile. “It wasn’t what you thought I would choose?” I slightly raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to respond.

  He frowns, shaking his head. “No.”

  That’s when I look at the plate in front of him. A majority of the plate is fruit and vegetables along with an egg white omelet. He’s not drinking coffee, only water. He’s a health nut. Maybe I shouldn’t have shown my true colors in front of him, but I don’t really care. After breakfast, I will never see this man again.

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  I bite into my pancake, the food immediately settling my stomach.

  “Hungry,” I say.

  I dig more into my meal so that I don’t have to talk. I don’t know what you are supposed to say when having breakfast with a man you almost had sex with. And he doesn’t seem like a huge talker anyway. So, maybe he will just enjoy the silence.

  “When did your father die?”

  I was wrong. He’s a talker. I stare awkwardly up at this stranger, not sure I want to confide in him. But I need to confide in someone, so why not him? He’s already told me that he doesn’t want me to get attached, so he’s not looking for anything beyond whatever happens this morning.

  “He died four days ago.” I don’t look at him. I just shovel more food into my mouth.

  “That’s what I thought,” he says, his voice sounds sad, withdrawn. “Were you close?”

  “Yes, he was the only person in my family who even remotely understood me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says after a long pause.

  I give him a weak smile as I glance up from my food. He seems genuine. I nod, but words like that never make me feel any better, no matter how genuine they are.

  A few seconds pass as we both make huge dents in our breakfast plates. Neither of us speaks. I barely even breathe.

  “I’ve never lost anyone like that. I can’t imagine the pain you are going through…”

  “It’s not something I ever thought I would go through. And I’m not sure how I’m going to get through it right now. The pain is unbearable. I just know that I have to find a way…for him.”

  He nods and waits for me to say more, but I don’t.

  “His death is what you’re running from,” he says.

  I stare off into the distance. Is that what I’m running from? His death? I think for a moment. No, it’s not his death I’m running from. It’s my future.

  “No,” I say firmly. “I’m running from family obligations that have been sped up now that he’s gone.”

  His mouth turns upward into a slight smile. I have no idea why my statement would make a man who hardly ever smiles, smile.

  “Now, that’s something I can understand.”

  I run my hands through my hair, trying to read into that sentence’s meaning. What family obligations could a man almost in his thirties have? He can’t still be following his parents’ orders, like I am. That could only mean one thing…

  “Oh my God! You’re married, aren’t you? You probably have four or five kids at home that you’re responsible for.” I push away from the table and begin searching the hotel room for my purse, but I don’t see it. Shit, I silently curse. I’ll just have to leave and get a new ID and credit cards later. I don’t care about the cash I will lose. It’s not worth staying around to find out that I was the other woman—even if it was only for one night.

  “Whoa…slow down there, princess.” He grabs my arm so that I can’t move. “I’m not married,” he says slowly, like if he talks slower,
it will somehow make his words more believable. “And I sure as hell don’t have four or five kids.”

  He cocks his head to the side, like he thinks I’m crazy. Maybe I am. I swallow hard, watching his desire grow in his eyes as he looks at me.

  “You’re not married?” I ask hesitantly.

  “No,” he says, smirking at me.

  “You don’t have kids?”

  “No.”

  I stare at his lips until they move so close to mine that I can barely breathe. His hands move up to tuck my blonde hair behind my ear. I shiver at his touch. He doesn’t kiss me though. He just hovers, obviously wanting more but denying himself what he wants for some reason.

  I don’t know what comes over me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that this man has already kissed me, and I already miss his lips. I don’t know if it’s the fact that his desire for me is so obvious that I can basically feel his heart beating fast beneath his chest because of me. I don’t know if it’s because today is the last day I get to choose who I can and can’t kiss.

  Whatever the reason, I kiss him. I grab the side of his neck as I do, so he can’t pull away. My kiss is defiant and carnal. It’s wet and deep and everything a kiss should be—except this time, when I kiss him, he barely kisses me back. Maybe I’m doing it wrong? But I know I’m not. I can feel his erection growing as it presses into my stomach. So, I don’t stop.

  It only takes a few seconds more until he is kissing me back with just as much hunger as he was before. I smile against his lips as he does. Maybe we will be having sex after all.

  Our kisses quicken as we both become more and more desperate for more, for promises that have been left unfulfilled since last night. We stumble backward until my body is trapped between him and a wall behind me. It feels nice to be possessed in such a way. When he lifts my body, I wrap my legs around his waist and moan because it’s exactly what I wanted him to do.

  I don’t stop kissing him as we he carries me back to the bedroom. I don’t stop until he roughly throws me onto the bed.

  I smile as he stares at me with those intense eyes that say so much when his mouth doesn’t. I watch as they turn from lust-filled to empty. I run my tongue over my lip, trying to look sexy, but the moment has passed, and I have no idea why.

  “You should go,” he says.

  My eyes widen, but I don’t ask why. I’m not going to beg someone to sleep with me when he obviously doesn’t want to.

  “Okay. Just help me find my purse.” I must look disappointed as I stand and gather myself from the bed.

  “Don’t. Don’t think that. I want you. I’m desperate for you…” He looks down. “I just can’t. I’m not going to be the guy you lose yourself in because you are running away. When I fuck you, it will be because you want me as much as I want you right now.”

  I laugh nervously. “I thought we were done after today.”

  He looks at me even more seriously, if that is possible. “No. Today is just the beginning.”

  I try to smile, but I can’t. This man is insane. No, he’s bipolar. One minute, he can’t keep his hands off of me, and the next, he’s a knight in shining armor. I just wish I knew which was a facade and which was the real Killian.

  I walk out of the bedroom and back into the living area. I hear Killian following me, but I don’t turn to face him. I just walk.

  “Here,” he says, holding out my purse.

  I take it from him. I see he is also holding my phone in his hands. He types something in before handing it to me as well.

  “I put my number in your phone.”

  “What makes you think I want that?”

  He cocks his head to the side as he stares at me. “You will. I have a feeling you will want it really soon.”

  God, this man is arrogant, but his confidence is alluring. I could use an ounce or two of his confidence, if only for just a day. Maybe then I wouldn’t be marrying a complete stranger in six months.

  I walk to the door. He follows.

  I open the door and stand in the doorway. “Thanks for the wine and—”

  His lips crash with mine before I can say anything. He’s promising more, I realize. With his tongue pushing further into my mouth, he’s demanding that I call him.

  When we finally break away, my breathing is fast, much too fast. I touch my hands to my chest, trying to calm my breathing. I stare at him for a second longer before turning to leave without a word.

  “Don’t run anymore. You’re stronger than you think.”

  I pause at his words, but I don’t turn around. He doesn’t follow me or say anything else.

  He’s left me his number to call. And I will. I’ll call. He knows it as well as I do.

  I walk into the elevator alone. I touch my fingers to my lips that are still tingling from his kiss, a kiss I want more of. Maybe he’s the answer. He’s smart, probably a businessman. He’s older and responsible. There’s not a tattoo or piercing on his body—at least not one that I noticed.

  What if I found someone capable of running the company on my own? What if I found my own love? Then, I could marry who I wanted while still making sure the company would be in good hands.

  I just have to find a way to convince Granddad. I need to find a way to buy myself some time. And introducing Granddad to Killian might just be the way. I could show him that I am capable of dating strong, intelligent men.

  Killian might not be the best choice, but right now, he’s my only choice. And, maybe, he might be the right choice.

  I step foot back inside the Felton Grand. Even though I was just in the hotel earlier when I was with Killian, this is the first time since my father’s death that I’ve really let myself take in the casino. Before, I was busy focusing on the game. And after that, I just let Killian rush me to his room as fast as possible. Now, I’m walking slowly, taking in everything.

  I notice the gentle calming sound of the expansive fountain at the entrance to the hotel. I see the light that twinkles off the water from the large crystal chandelier overhead.

  I walk through the long hallways filled with shops and restaurants. The hallways are calm. It’s early, and only a few people have woken up to enjoy breakfast at one of the many restaurants. I smile as I look up and see the details of the arched ceiling overhead. When I was a kid, I used to lie on a bench in the hallway and just stare up at the beautiful ceiling.

  I walk to the casino floor. I take a deep breath. I feel my father all around as I walk past the flashing lights of the slot machines. This is where my father spent most of his time—here on the floor of the casino, mingling with guests and making sure everything was running smoothly.

  I walk off the casino floor to a door that says Employees Only. I flash my card in front of the door and watch as the light changes from red to green before I open the door. I enter and take the stairs up to the second floor.

  I take a right and head down to my father’s office that is at the end of the long hallway. I take the key out of my pocket and unlock the door. I push it open, and the smell immediately overwhelms me. It smells like expensive cologne and cigarettes. It smells like my father.

  I miss you, I think as I walk in and close the door behind me.

  Tears fall fast as I make my way over to my favorite couch on one side of my father’s office. I let them. I cry. I let everything out. I let go of the pain. I let go of the guilt. I leg go of all of it. It all comes out.

  When the final bits of pain and guilt have washed away, all I’m left with is anxiety over speaking to Granddad. I begin pacing back and forth in the large office that was my father’s while I wait for my grandfather to arrive.

  I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

  I try to keep my eyes on the ground instead of looking at the numerous things that remind me of my father.

  I don’t have to look up to know that a picture of me and Dad is sitting on his desk. I was five, riding on his shoulders. There’s another of the whole family sitting right beside it.

&nbs
p; I don’t have to look up to know the most comfortable couch on the planet is leaning against the far wall. I have fallen asleep on it countless times while reading a book, waiting for Dad to take me out to dinner.

  I don’t have to look up to know a huge stack of every magazine I have been in is piled in the corner.

  I don’t have to look up to know a picture of my first modeling job when I was twelve is in a frame on the wall.

  Instead, I try to rehearse what I’m going to say when my grandfather gets here. Granddad, I love you and respect you, but I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions in the best interests of myself and this company. I’ve already found someone that I think would make a good candidate, and I would like you to meet him soon…

  I keep repeating the speech I practiced all night, but my mind quickly goes back to Killian. I bite my lip, remembering how his lips felt on mine, how he pulled every emotion out of me. I tuck my hair behind my ear, remembering how his touch there sent shivers all over my body. My heart speeds up as I think about how I had the most explosive orgasm of my life with his tongue buried inside me.

  I try to stop thinking about him, but I can’t. I haven’t called—yet. It’s only been a few hours since I saw him, but I have a feeling that I’ll be looking for something comforting after this meeting, and I will need someone to talk to. No, I’ll need someone to help me forget. I’ll text him this afternoon. It won’t hurt to ask if he is free.

  “You’re on time,” Granddad says as he walks into the office.

  “Yes,” I say as I stop pacing. I immediately lose any thoughts of Killian. I know my face is flushed, so without having to look up, I walk to the corner of the room where there is a container of water. I take one of the white plastic cups and fill it with water before walking slowly back to my chair that is pointed at the desk.

  I slowly sip my water, trying to drain my face of its overly pink color, while stalling from giving my speech. I’ll wait just a few minutes longer. No need to rush the speech and get it wrong.