Single Dad's Virgin: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Penelope Bloom

  At the same time, Aubrey stirs in my bed, sitting up and pulling the sheets protectively to her chin. “What was that?”

  “Just stay here,” I say. I pull down metal shutters on the window in my room and move to the door. “No one can get in here without the code. I’m just going to go make sure Sophie and my mother are okay.”

  “No,” says Aubrey. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Fine,” I say. In truth, I’ll feel better having her within arm’s reach until I figure out what is going on. “Let’s go.”

  We sneak from my bedroom toward the living room. I signal for Aubrey to hang back while I survey the broken glass and look for an intruder. All I find is a brick with a note taped to it. I kneel, avoiding the broken glass to pull the note free and read it.

  You should have just listened to what I had to say. I only wanted to talk. Let me convince you to take me back. You’re making a mistake being with that rich asshole. Talk to me, baby. I’ll never give up on us.

  -Jake

  I hand the note to Aubrey, letting her read. The look on her face says it all. Disgust, horror, sadness.

  “I never knew he was capable of something like this,” she says quietly.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I say, hugging her.

  “My crazy ex-boyfriend is breaking your windows now and sneaking around your house at night. How can I not worry?”

  “Let me do the worrying. I’m going to keep him from ever laying a hand on you again.”

  “How?” she asks, head still nestled into my shoulder.

  By removing his fucking hands. “I’ll think of something. C’mon, I just want to go make sure Sophie and my mother are okay. I think he’s gone. It’s just a broken window and a coward who is afraid to show his face.”

  I enter the code to get through the locked doors to Sophie’s wing of the house and find her waiting just outside the door, eyes wide with panic.

  “Daddy!” she says, rushing into me and hugging me. “What happened?”

  I stroke her hair, hugging her back. “It’s nothing, Soph. Let’s get you back to bed.”

  Sophie takes my hand and lets me lead her to bed. She may be growing more independent in a lot of ways, but my little girl has always had trouble with sleep. When she was a baby I spent hours and hours soothing her back to sleep some nights. She scares easily, and still needs me to come help her sleep at times. The funny part is when I’m away on business the caretakers always say she sleeps fine.

  I guess it’s her way of bonding with me, and I’ll never complain.

  I tuck her into bed and kiss her forehead. Aubrey hangs just a few steps behind me, watching with a faint smile on her face.

  “You okay?” I ask, sitting on the edge of her bed and stroking her hair.

  “Was it a home invasion?” she asks, eyes showing no hint of humor.

  “No,” I say. “Just a bird. I guess it was sick, because it crashed right into the window and broke it. We’ll have to get it fixed in the morning.”

  Sophie nods knowingly. “Ah, okay. I saw a documentary about that on TV. The birds have a magnetic sense and if it gets messed up they can do all kinds of weird things. It could also be a sign of the apocalypse. I think the birds will be the first ones to go.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, trying not to grin.

  “I love you, Daddy,” she says, eyelids already starting to close.

  “I love you too, baby,” I say, getting up quietly and motioning for Aubrey to follow me out.

  We check on my mother next, who is snoring so loudly we don’t even need to open the door to her bedroom.

  Once we’re back in my room, I head for the couch, but Aubrey stops me by tugging on my arm. “You can sleep in the bed,” she says, not meeting my eyes.

  “I’m not going to have you sleeping on the couch. Take the bed, it’s fine.”

  “I mean you can sleep in the bed with me,” she says. I can see her cheeks burning red even in the near darkness of my bedroom.

  I quirk an eyebrow.

  She sighs. “I’d feel safer,” she says, voice nearly a whisper.

  I nod, grabbing my pillow from the couch and slipping into bed beside her. Just feeling her weight shifting around on the mattress beside me is enough to get my cock stiff. She’s only wearing an oversized t-shirt and presumably panties. Judging from the way her nipples were visibly stiff as we tiptoed through the house, I’m fairly certain she’s not wearing a bra, either. I feel a little guilty about it, but I strip off my shirt before sliding under the blankets. I probably shouldn’t try to make things more tempting for her, but my now-raging hard-on has other ideas.

  I lay on my back, feeling wide awake as I watch the ceiling and feel her shifting restlessly beside me. After only five minutes, her breathing grows more regular and heavy. I can’t believe a woman like her is a virgin. She has the sweet face of an angel and the body of goddess. Knowing no man has claimed it before makes me want it so desperately it hurts. I think of how tight she would be around me, how shocking all the new sensations and pleasures would be for her, about how fun it would be to teach her and train her to be my perfect sexual partner.

  Fuck.

  If this goes on any longer, I’m going to wake up with the worst case of blue balls a man has ever endured. I quietly grab a tissue from the nightstand and reach down to pull my briefs out of the way. My hard cock springs free, pushing against the sheets and blankets. I grip myself, working my hand up and down my length as I imagine how good she would feel around me, picturing her face as she rides me, looking down in surprise at how fucking huge my cock feels inside her.

  I imagine her lips against mine again, remembering the way they tasted so insanely good, and how her full tits felt when they pressed against my chest while I hugged her. I think of--

  Aubrey rolls over in the bed and her arm drapes over my waist, directly on top of my rock hard cock. Her thigh slides over my leg and I realize the t-shirt she’s wearing has ridden up. I feel her warm slit pressing directly against my leg, only the thin barrier of her panties between us.

  I am completely motionless as I listen to her breathing. It’s still regular and heavy. She has no idea, she’s just asleep. But fuck. I was so close to cumming already and now her soft skin is resting on my cock and her pussy is pressed to my leg. I have no choice but to stay still and endure until she changes positions.

  Except she moans softly and her leg moves just the slightest bit higher and her hips push into me just a little. I suck in a breath, bracing myself as her arm pulls closer to her body, bringing her hand just centimeters from my cock. My heart pounds in my chest as I realize what’s happening.

  She’s dreaming about something sexual, and her contact with my body is fueling the dream and vice versa. The right thing to do would be to wake her up, and fast, but how can I? If I wake her up right now she’d be mortified. She’d realize she was about to hump me in her sleep and I’d have to explain why my cock is hard enough to split diamonds.

  She moans again, hips pressing more firmly into me this time. Her arm pulls back farther and now her small hand is limp on top of my cock. With painful slowness, her fingers wrap around me until she grips my length, hips now working against me in a slow rhythm. I feel the heat between her legs and her wetness against me.

  I’m so fucking turned on it’s a testament of willpower that I don’t jump on top of her right this second and fuck her for all she’s worth. But she’s asleep. This isn’t real. I shouldn’t be fucking enjoying this.

  Her hand starts to move against me, stroking me up and down as her hips grind harder into me. Her moans come more freely now, and her breath is hot against my neck. I lay completely still, closing my eyes against the mounting pleasure, knowing how incredibly fucking wrong it would be to cum from a handjob she gave me while she was asleep. But Goddamn. If this keeps up, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

  Just when her thighs clench around my leg and I can feel the heat of her wet pussy against me, she fr
eezes. I turn my head to look at her face and see her eyes wide open. She recoils from me like she’s been bitten, turning her back toward me. “Please tell me I’m still dreaming,” she whispers.

  I chuckle. “It’s possible.”

  “Oh my God,” she groans. “Please promise you’ll pretend this never happened. I’ll do anything.”

  “Deal. Go on a date with me.”

  There’s a long pause. “To convince people we’re really engaged again?” she asks.

  “No,” I say. “Because I enjoy spending time with you and I want to take you out. Or I could spend the rest of my life reliving the time you humped my leg in your--”

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll go on a date with you. Just please pretend this never happened. I just--yeah,” she says, falling silent.

  I grin, closing my eyes and let sleep come, even though I know I’m going to have the worst case of blue balls in recorded history in the morning. It was worth it.

  By the time I wake up, Aubrey is already out of the bed and the sheets where she was laying are cold. I frown, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I hear voices coming from the kitchen and stumble out in nothing but my briefs. I stop dead in my tracks when I see who it is.

  Julianne is in my fucking kitchen. She’s sitting at the table while Aubrey sets a plate of eggs in front of her. Sophie and my mother are at either end of the table, eating and quietly eyeing Julianne. Except my mother isn’t quiet for long.

  “Did that turn out how you wanted?” asks my mother, pointing to Julianne’s obvious nose job. “It ended up pretty pointy.”

  Julianne appears to be trying to control herself for some reason and only takes a deep breath, forcing a smile. Her smile widens when she sees me standing shirtless in the doorway. Aubrey fumbles the plate she’s carrying and nearly drops it.

  “You cleaned up the broken glass?” I ask, ignoring the fact that my fucking ex-wife is eating breakfast in my house for some reason.

  “Broken gl--” starts Julianne.

  “Yes,” says Aubrey.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” I say, moving to her side and gripping her around the waist. I plant a quick kiss on her lips like it’s the most casual thing in the world, and grin when I hear Julianne blow out an annoyed breath.

  “Oh. You’re here,” I say, looking at Julianne like a cockroach that just scampered onto the table.

  “Yes. My lawyer was going to serve you with papers to tell you, but I wanted to come and tell you myself. I thought you deserved to hear it from the mother of your child,” she says, shifting her eyes to Aubrey to see if her phrasing sparked a nerve.

  Aubrey looks unimpressed, and she actually goes as far as placing her hand on my abs. She cranes her neck to whisper in my ear. “I didn’t salt her eggs.”

  I bark a laugh, looking at Julianne, who clearly doesn’t enjoy being out of the joke. “This is funny to you? Well, I’m glad. Because I might have felt bad taking your daughter from you if you actually gave a shit.”

  “Language,” I snap.

  “What?” asks Sophie, who looks up from her plate for the first time.

  “Don’t worry about it, Soph. I’m handling it.”

  “Handling what?” She demands.

  “I’m with the pipsqueak, Liam,” says my mother. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  Julianne throws her head back and laughs with exaggerated enthusiasm before clapping her hands together. “Oh, this is rich. He hasn’t told you all? You didn’t wonder why that woman wanted to come in your house and look around?” Julianne makes a very obvious effort to put on a sweet, motherly face and softens her voice to talk to Sophie. “Honey, mommy is going to get you back. Don’t worry, you won’t have to live in this cess pool for much longer.”

  “I barely know you,” says Sophie. “Daddy? What is she talking about?”

  The way she looks at me tears at my heart and I have to clench my teeth from saying something I shouldn’t in front of her. “I’m going to figure out a way to stop this, Soph. Don’t worry.”

  “He can’t stop it, honey,” says Julianne. “Mommy is going to get you back.” She looks at me defiantly, quirking an eyebrow in a way that says, unless…

  Unless I pay her what she wants. Unless I give her the final push down this path of greed that has nearly destroyed her. Unless I wipe away any possible hope of my little girl ever knowing the woman who gave birth to her cares about her.

  “Message delivered,” I say coldly. “Now get out of my house.”

  Julianne stands. “Happily. These eggs are terrible, by the way,” she says to Aubrey. “Your fiancée should learn how to cook. And honey,” she says, kneeling to try to kiss Sophie’s forehead. “I’ll--”

  Sophie interrupts her by forming a cross with her knife and fork. “The power of Christ compels you,” says Sophie dryly.

  Julianne makes a distasteful face. “Charming. Well, I’ll see you all in court soon.”

  Her heels click out across the marble on her way out, leaving us all in an annoyed silence until my mother decides to break it. “You know, Liam. I’ve heard you can order a hit on a person for as little as a hundred grand. Want me to ask around?”

  “Mom...” I say sternly. As much as I despise Julianne right now, the last thing I need is for my own mother to talk about ordering a hitman to kill her in front of my daughter. Whether I agree with the way Julianne has lived her life or not, I need to keep my head on what’s best for Sophie. Except lately, I’ve been watching how Aubrey interacts with Sophie, even after Sophie decided to turn colder towards Aubrey after our fake engagement. Watching her has me think maybe she could be the perfect mom to my little girl, and maybe I could leave Julianne completely out of the equation.

  But there’s no way to know how this is all going to work out, and I can’t afford to burn bridges where my daughter is concerned. So for now, I have to stay the course and do everything I can to prove this household is the right household for Sophie and convince the lawyers and the judge that sending her to live with her biological mother would be a massive mistake.

  Sophie groans. “Daddy. Are you sure I came out of that woman?”

  I grin. “Who knows. Maybe we took home the wrong baby.”

  Sophie smiles. “You mean it?”

  I laugh. “Hey, I know this is hard to believe, but there’s a good person in there. Your mother just… I mean, I’ll be damned if she gets custody of you, but she can be a good person. Sometimes.”

  “Maybe they will write that on her tombstone after grandma orders her murder,” suggests Sophie. “Here lies Julianne, the mother and ex-wife who could be a good person. Sometimes. Okay, not really that often, but we’re sure it could’ve happened if she had lived longer.”

  I try not to grin. “That’s not funny, Soph.”

  “Then why are you smiling?” asks Sophie.

  Aubrey makes a noise and I realize she’s covering a laugh with her hand.

  My mother shows no hesitation about laughing out loud. “If I’m not around when she bites it, Sophie, let that be my dying wish to you. Make sure that is really on her gravestone or I’ll come back and haunt you.”

  Sophie’s face goes white. “Please don’t haunt me.”

  “Mom,” I say.

  My mother throws up her hands defensively. “I’d only haunt her a little bit, give me a break.”

  10

  Aubrey

  I start my morning as I usually do, with one main difference: I slide out of bed and try not to sneak a guilty look at Liam’s shirtless form sprawled beside me. I invited him to sleep beside me the night before last because I was honestly spooked, but when he took it upon himself to get into bed beside me again last night, I didn’t quite have the willpower to stop him. I did, however, manage to make it through the night without humping him in my sleep. At least as far as I know.

  My cheeks burn hot just at the memory. At least he’ll never know I was dreaming about sleeping with him. I slip into the bathroom, closing the door quie
tly to avoid waking him, smirking at the need to be quiet. I’ve never lived with a guy before, and all the little things make our fake engagement feel so much more real, like seeing his toothbrush beside mine on the sink. Having to put the toilet seat down after him, having him straighten things up behind me like the endless hair ties I leave lying around.

  Sharing my bed might be the best of all, though. I don’t care what we call this thing between us, I’ve never slept so well in my entire life. Just feeling the weight of him beside me in the bed, and the faint aura of warmth that comes from his body is enough to make me feel invincible. I feel like nothing can hurt me, and I’ve slept more soundly than I ever have before. Apparently I was even sleeping soundly enough to basically give Liam a handjob and get myself off on his leg.

  I lean over the sink, wincing and marveling at how the level of complete and total embarrassment the memory brings doesn’t seem to dull at all, no matter how often I think of it. Not thinking of it would be a hell of a lot easier if I hadn’t touched his… thing. I bite my lip. My hand couldn’t even wrap all the way around it. I don’t know how long it was either, because I yanked my hand back as soon as I realized what I was doing, but I think it was very big, and that particular fact is equal parts exciting and terrifying.

  Not that it’s ever going to be in me or anything, but if it was, I don’t know how it’d fit.

  I shake my head, looking at myself in the mirror. Listen to me. I’ve felt like a basket case ever since Liam came back. At first I never thought there was even the remotest of chances that we would ever be together. Then I thought he might be interested and I realized I couldn’t let anything happen. And then I somehow decided getting fake engaged to him was a good idea. I guess I can blame that on a combination of my fear of Jake and my weak-willed desire to get to be with him in a way that can end without the disaster of a real break-up.