FAKE: An Enemies to Lovers Standalone Romance

by Sarah J. Brooks

  FAKE

  Sarah J. Brooks

  Inhalt

  Title Page

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Special Invitation

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Preview: Unexpected Surprise

  More about Sarah

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Copyright © 2020 by Sarah J. Brooks

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Special Invitation

  Hey Sweetie,

  do you want to get THREE romance novels sent directly to your Facebook Messenger inbox? Simply click here and I will reach out to you personally!

  With love and talk soon,

  Sarah

  Chapter 1

  Kylie

  I wasn’t a wallflower; I’d always been the first one to the dance floor. I loved to party; I loved to love, drink, get down, do crazy things, wear very little ... at least that’s what everyone was supposed to believe. So, sitting alone on Valentine’s Day at the St. Marks Brewery and Tavern wasn’t a wallflower move, it was a full out escape plan. I needed to breathe. My last “date” was trending so hard on all social media platforms, I was beginning to suffocate.

  Kylie Morgan breaks it off with Dane Wynters after just months of dating.

  Kylie is seen with a mystery man.

  Kylie Morgan leaving Starbucks with a new boyfriend.

  My modeling agency kept the rumors swirling ... all I had to do was show up. Dane Wynters was actually gay ... his public relations company was working a whole different angle there. I really liked Dane; we had a lot of fun while we were “dating” so the pictures online of us goofing off and traipsing around Manhattan were real. The relationship wasn’t ... and never had been, not once. I hadn’t actually been in a relationship ever. At twenty-three I’d had a few dates with people I thought might have been fun. Usually, they wanted the wild girl my agency had the world believing I was ... and I just wasn’t that person. I liked quiet nights, books, playing video games, a good craft brew, and hiking. My idea of having fun was a long night talking about solving the world’s problems. My being a nympho sex goddess, scantily clad runaway whore was just business … my one-night stands with playboys and media influencers were all for the press.

  For whatever reason, Valentine’s Day was hard for me. I shouldn’t have cared, but it was the loneliest time of the year because it reminded me of how few people actually knew me at all. I was adored by everyone and loved by just a couple of my closest friends. Only my roommates knew the real me. St. Marks was right down the street from the apartment I shared with them. It was a cool loft we could barely afford. While I had a lot of money, I knew that modeling wasn’t going to carry me forever, so I saved most of what I made.

  Avery and Madison did the same. We played, had fun, spent money on things we liked but shared a loft together to make things more manageable. I didn’t trust too many people, but my posse? They were my world.

  “KYLIE!” Avery screamed into the phone, very drunk. “Where are you? You’re supposed to be here; the music is pumping! People are practically humping on the dance floor.”

  “I met someone. Can you believe it after all this time? It’s really new, so we’re just going to lay low. We’re at St. Marks getting a few beers, nothing too radical. You and Maddy have fun. I’ll see y’all sometime tomorrow.” I was ready to hang up, hoping my bluff would work when she interrupted me.

  “What? Are you serious? Kylie this is epic! You found a guy?” Avery’s voice raised two octaves.

  “We are definitely not at ‘epic’... it’s more like interesting with a dash of fun.” I giggled appropriately ... I just had to get her off the phone, then I’d be safe.

  “Maddy and I’ll come over there then. This party blows without you ’cause no one is here to see us.” I could picture her ‘rolling her eyes’.

  “I’m sure as soon as they get to know you …” I tried to encourage her as Avery, who was gorgeous and actually had turned down several modeling contracts to focus on her fashion career, had her own troubles with men.

  “And when people realize you’re not there ... they move on. It happens all of the time, Kylie.” She seemed mad for a moment.

  “Really, don’t come,” I just blurted out, panicked she and Maddy might actually show up at the bar.

  “See you soon,” Avery threatened, and I knew there was a very good chance, in fact, a better than very good chance, she and Madison were going to just show up at the bar.

  I panicked. Now my quiet Valentine’s Day to myself where I could wallow in my own tragic pity was perfectly ruined. I was really looking the part of the forlorn and loveless too. I had on a pair of ripped baggy jeans, a beanie, and a rando University of Oregon shirt I got at a thrift store. I was pretty sure not one person at that bar knew I was Kylie Morgan. Now I was going to have to blow my cover to get my roommates off my back.

  They were being bold and invasive, yes, but they perpetually had my back. Their capes were forever flying. We’d been that way since grade school when Avery noticed that the only other really pretty girl in school was suffering the same plague of the unwanted attention she was. Madison was so cute ... adorable cute, that saved her. Avery and I were a little too sexy for seventh grade. We became a three ... the three ... the only three we needed. We went everywhere together, and because of this not only survived middle school but high school and college as well. They were my family. My real family ... who knew? I bounced from one foster home to the next, and at the age of eighteen, I was free. I only had one request and that was to stay with my posse. I didn’t care about what foster family I went with, so I ended up in a group home for girls. It wasn’t horrible ... mostly, until it was.

  Avery’s family was my go-to for the holidays, and Madison’s family took me on vacation with them. So, the fact that my posse was heading over to the bar most likely very drunk and bored waiting for me to show up to a party I never intended to be at, was no surprise at all. Now, I either had to cower before them and fess up to making up the date or make a deal with someone at the bar to stand in for me. There wasn’t anyone I could call; my girls knew every one of my fakes. So, I scanned the bar for a guy I could beg to be my boyfriend for a minute. I was Kylie Morgan, the hottest supermodel of all time ... or so Time Magazine said ... I could do this. This whole night was supposed to be me getting away from a
ll of that, but who was I kidding?

  I could do it; I bucked myself up. I only had to stay with him long enough to convince the posse I didn’t need their intervention or any further inquisition. I scanned the single tables around the room looking for the perfect ‘date’. At one table was a dapper-looking man in a golf hat who might have been in his late nineties. My heart panged a little seeing him sitting alone nursing a beer. It got a bit lighter when the waitress came by and gave him some love. He must have been a regular. From what I could gather of the conversation, he always came in on Wednesdays and ordered one Guinness. He probably didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day.

  The next single table had a gorgeous woman wearing a sapphire satin dress. Though there were rumors about me having a preference for women as I’d been seen kissing a few, they weren’t true. My kisses with women, most of them with other models, had all been staged to look like I was sexually fluid. I actually wasn’t into women. It made me laugh a little because the woman sitting alone at the table in front of me was really hot. Perhaps it would have made things easier if I was into girls. By the way, she was looking at her watch, though, she was waiting for someone who must have been late. I moved on.

  The only other single occupant at a table was a man who seemed to be a bit older than me wearing a very expensive suit. His fine wool outfit and designer Italian leather shoes screamed money, money, money. Usually, that was a run for the hills as fast I can moment for me because money meant lots of people in your business. For the purpose of just getting this over with, money would have to do. He wasn’t bulging with muscles but had the kind of physique that held up a designer suit really well.

  Because his back was turned to me, I couldn’t see his face. I didn’t really care what his face looked like; this was only going to be for a minute just to throw my roommates off my trail. I fully intended to return to my little booth in the corner and watch the rest of the basketball game they had blaring across all the screens. I didn’t really even like basketball much, but as I was sitting there with my craft-brewed IPA, I had gotten into it. My heart started to race with nerves at the thought of engaging in conversation with a stranger, but the thought of being beaten down by my roommates for ‘not getting myself out there’ again, was insufferable. I pulled up my ratty ass jeans and made my move.

  “Hi,” I started. It was innocent enough.

  The guy was a little startled when he looked up from his phone but not more surprised than me. His fine sculpted features and rugged five o’clock shadow had my insides clenching. He looked at me with seductive light brown eyes and a knowing smirk, and I almost lost my ability to speak His short-cropped hair was spiked and styled to perfection, and I could smell the faint aroma of Versace Eros in the air.

  “I am so sorry to bother you.” I’m sure I was gushing, damn, I knew I was gushing. “I’m Kylie Morgan.” Stupid, I’m stupid.

  “I know who you are,” his deep baritone voice raked over my vagina ... damn.

  “Really? And I thought I was being so clever with the beanie and the ill-fitting jeans …” Ugh damn, I was so far off my game …”

  “You’re pretty unmistakable in whatever you wear ... or don’t,” he added as if he were undressing me with his words. “I saw you come in. Do you need anything?” Now he sounded irritated.

  “Yeah, actually I do. It’s kind of embarrassing …” I bit my lip and tried to breathe as my heart bounced like a ping pong ball in my chest.

  “More embarrassing than walking up and interrupting my evening?” If his voice hadn’t had a trill of amusement in it, I would have thought he was being incredibly rude, but then again, he was probably someone prominent; I just couldn’t place him. I did just walk up on him and suddenly I lost my nerve.

  He must have seen the hurt expression on my face. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  I took the chair across from him and swallowed a gulp of air. I had no idea why he was freaking me out so badly; I’d been around so many handsome men, too many. I had to pull my shit together.

  “What were you going to ask?” Again, his voice was a graveled purr, and I imagined him breathing in my ear as he gently stripped away my clothes.

  I pressed my knees together to stop the rioting going on in my pussy. “I need a date.” Yep ... that came out all wrong.

  Luckily, he burst into laughter.

  “Says the woman who is dating … what, three men right now? I can never keep track.” Does he keep track? That moment slammed me hard.

  “I’m not really ..” I stared at his amber eyes which looked like gemstones in crystal clear water, and then it hit me ... Alec Blair.

  I was sitting with Alec Blair. He was a little rougher and tumble than the cover of Forbes magazine depicted, but it was him ... all billions of dollars of him. I think he saw the shock register on my face because his smile widened.

  “Not really asking for a date?” His eyes sparkled when he teased.

  “I had no idea who you were,” I confessed, shaking my head, feeling like an idiot.

  “Ah, and here I thought you’d come over because you knew exactly who I was.” His voice crossed a snide line ... but I let it pass, the moment was becoming unbearably awkward very quickly.

  “I came over because my roommates are on their way from the Dana Planet party. I blew them off and said I was with a date, now they’re coming to check on me. I was really just hoping you were a random guy …”

  “To sleep with?”

  “No, I don’t sleep with guys.” Nope ... that’s not what I wanted to say.

  “Girls then?” His eyes narrowed and glazed over with a weird kind of lust.

  “Oh, God no … I mean, no ... just a regular no, it’s fine for whoever …” I was starting to pant.

  “Why don’t you just ask me what you were going to ask.” He settled back in his chair with a breezy kind of ease, and I gripped the armrest, trying not to pass out.

  “Can you pretend you’re my date just while they are here and then, when they leave, I’ll let you get on with whatever you were doing, and I’ll just have another beer and lament about how pathetic this whole situation is,” I said at the speed of light. “They should be here any minute.”

  “Isn’t it a little dangerous to pretend you’re dating me?” His lustful look was replaced with an alluringly dominant one.

  “Dangerous?” I gulped.

  “Well, I’m also in the news. Rumors will spread …” His smirk had me all kinds of crazy.

  “Not my girls, they won’t say a thing, I promise. I’ll do clean up on my end with them. It will all be under the table. We’ll have an amicable breakup, no big thing, we weren’t that into it and then I’ll be off the hook for the year for having put myself out there.” I flashed him a gorgeous smile, my signature.

  “Sounds like fun.” His demeanor changed entirely. “What are you drinking?”

  Chapter 2

  Alec

  What an odd turn of events. I had no real interest in Kylie Morgan, no more than anyone else would who had read the nearly nonstop media rubbish about the world’s most adorable playgirl. She was a woman on a meteoric rise to total and complete domination of the planet’s male population. There wasn’t likely a man alive who hadn’t seen her tiny nipples perking up the Ralph Lauren red carpet number she wore to the Met Gala ball. The back plunged deep to her buttocks and the front dipped to her navel leaving her tiny tits to hold the rest up. She was quite literally sex on a stick.

  Her face was beguiling in an otherworldly manner, and her aloofness had men clamoring to know her. She’d had a string of high-profile boyfriends and a few questionable kisses with women. The bumbling mess before me though wasn’t the Kylie Morgan the world saw. She was gorgeous; there was no mistaking that, but sweet and nervous. I wanted to eat her alive.

  I was almost as famous, for more mundane reasons as a billionaire playboy whose face was worthy of GQ magazine. I had my fair share of high-profile women. In fact, the reason I was at the
bar that night was to avoid one I’d just dumped. Not wanting to suffer Valentine’s Day with her and expecting that she might stalk my house for one last romp in the name of the couple’s holiday, I chose not to be present. I knew Greg, the owner the St. Marks, a dive bar with lofty aspirations, and he promised he’d keep me under wraps ... and then Kylie showed up.

  No one paid us much attention as I knew they wouldn’t. These people were the salt of the earth. They had more interest in the basketball game and finding out what the latest trend in auto parts was than whether a billionaire and a supermodel were hooking up.

  “I was drinking the Cupid’s Cup IPA. It’s this month’s brew.” There was that smile again.

  God, she had an incredible set of teeth. The rest of her was hot, in a skinny model, perfectly fuckable kind of way, but her mouth ... every time she spoke, I just thought of what that mouth would look like sucking hard on my dick. I was almost obsessed with knowing how deep her throat would go ... not many women could handle me, but with her experience, I wondered.

  I waved my hand for Greg. I’d invested in the place years ago, and it was a pretty damn good investment. Greg was a solid businessman, and I always drank for free; not that I cared, but it was a perk.

  “I see you have a guest.” He smiled a too-big grin at Kylie, probably wanting her autograph or some ridiculous nonsense.

  I decided not to offer her name.

  “I’ll have another Scotch, and my friend here wants the Cupid’s Cup,” I threw out flatly.

  I was an asshole. I liked being an asshole and had no intention of ever trading in my shitty personality. I got away with it; I was that good looking. In business, I’d butcher people and they still clamored to know me to close that deal. In bed, I fucked hard. I wasn’t above a few whips and bindings, and when I came, it was on my terms anywhere I damn well wanted it to go. Women always called back.

  So, Kylie was going to be an easy one to score. All I had to do was decide if I wanted to fuck her. I mean, I wasn’t opposed to my dick getting some mainstream vagina, but from what I assumed, Kylie’s fields had been plowed by many a hoe. I wasn’t sure that was my scene.