by Jamie Knight
“We should go through it, hey?” he said, surprising me out of my dirty thoughts.
“Sorry, what?” I asked, somewhat distracted.
“If we're going to do the fake fiancée thing, we should go over the details. You know, to really be able to sell it,” he explained, shifting even closer.
“That's a good idea,” I agreed, shifting my chair so I faced him directly.
I smiled to myself, realizing that maybe this legal aid position might be truly wonderful. And the job would be even better if Jacob and I ended up in the same office. I had actually been really scared by the idea of going into the working world after so long away. My legal career had sort of begun and ended at the university — something that really only added to my apprehension. But meeting Jacob was turning my fear into excitement.
Jacob really did seem like the kind of guy I would like to get to know better. I honestly hadn't had any romantic, let alone sexual interest in anyone since the messages from my soldier pen pan stopped. And even then, it had taken a long time to get there after what had happened to my fiancé. I was beginning to think I would never be really happy again. It had been so long since a man had touched me, I wasn't entirely sure if I could stand it should it ever come up again. Literally and figuratively. Though I was willing to give it a chance, should the opportunity with Jacob present itself.
“Would you be available to join me for dinner?” he asked.
“Yes, absolutely!” I said with a bit too much enthusiasm.
I figured if nothing else, the plan to play Jacob's fake fiancée would give me a chance to get used to talking to men again.
“Great,” he said, amused by my excitement.
“I'm available tonight,” I said.
“Hey, me too, what a coincidence,” he said with a roguish smile.
“I don't have much money,” I confessed.
“Me neither. We sure seem to have a lot in common,” he said.
“Indeed.”
“I'm sure Hayley would help us out with that. If we ask real nice, of course,” Jacob said.
I knew that my best friend had married a very wealthy man, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of that. “I'm not sure about that. Hayley does enough for me already,” I confessed.
“I know the feeling,” he agreed.
“It doesn't need to be fancy, just somewhere moderately nice, preferably with booths.”
“That certainly narrows it down,” he said, without a trace of sarcasm.
“There's the Frying Dutchman,” I suggested.
“Can't say that I'm familiar.” He raised one blonde eyebrow.
“It's a newer place in West Hollywood. Delicious steak if I do say so myself. Nothing is over fifteen bucks, though.”
“Sounds perfect,” he said, smiling in a way that made my pussy tight.
“Okay, everyone, back up we go,” Jim Howell said, coming into the cafe like a boss, and we followed him back to the training room.
Without really planning it, Jacob and I sat together at the back row of tables. I let him go first, choosing where he was most comfortable, taking the spot right next to him. I was close enough that I could smell his cologne. Crisp and pleasant. Not what I would have expected from someone as manly as he came across.
The man was well over six feet tall and muscular in a bulky way, as shown by his light fitting, short-sleeved polo shirt. His pants were similarly snug. I realized it would likely be difficult for him to find clothes that fit. A train of thought which lead unsuspected and unbidden to condoms and if he could even wear them. Going by the rest of him. His cock would be absolutely huge.
I was suddenly inundated by fantasies of Jacob fucking me bareback. Me on all fours, him slamming into me from behind. I covered my mouth to cover a gasp, crossing my legs over my tightening pussy, which was also getting wet. There was no two ways about it, I was definitely into Jacob — at least in the physical way. I just had to do my best to not screw things up with my long-acquired awkwardness.
***
I seriously considered wearing the same dress for dinner that night. Jacob really seemed to like the look of me in it, though the Dutchman wasn't quite that fancy, and I would likely turn some heads. Peeling myself out of the little black thing, I had a shower to clean off the stress of the day. Putting on new undergarments, I stood in front of my open closet, looking for something else to wear. Having already decided that something simple but sexy would be the way to go. He liked my form, that much was clear, but I also wanted him to see me the way I actually was. The little black dress being the opposite of characteristic for me. Though, to be fair, sweatpants and a stained hoodie, what I tended to wear, didn't exactly ooze sex appeal.
Settling on a pair of Doc Marten Air Wairs left over from my college days when I was trying to be edgy for a week; a knee-length plaid skirt and a cute pseudo-Victorian top with lace around the cuffs of the short sleeves, I clomped into the kitchen for a pre-date drink.
I was down to two bottles. Both of them Guinness, so that was something. Popping the otherwise immovable lid with the bottle opener built into the manual can opener, I took a long sip, holding it in my mouth, letting it work its way slowly down. I was going to be taking the bus anyway, so it didn't matter. Though I still didn't want to be too smashed before I got there. Made it far too easy to say the wrong thing. I had had just gotten my jacket, getting ready for the long, cold wait for the seven-fifteen bus when the buzzer rang.
Chapter Five
Jacob
There was something about Charlotte. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I knew that I liked her. It wasn't just her looks or her curves. Though I would be lying if I said I hadn't noticed her breasts. I was fairly certain that one would have to be a blind monk not to notice her figure. Even so, it was more than that. There was something else.
As I got ready to go to dinner, I had a bit of a spring in my step, which was something that hadn't happened in a really long time. I got out the closest thing to dressy clothes I still owned and went into the hotel room’s bathroom, starting up the shower. Using my right arm braced against the wall as support, I stepped over the side of the tub.
It was apparent that my thinking about Charlotte was having a physical effect. My cock was at full mast and throbbing. Leaning back against the cool, tiled wall, I wrapped my hand gently around the bulk of my shaft and started to carefully stroke. My mind drifted back to the training and Charlotte in her little black dress.
In my imagination, I fantasized about doing what I wanted to do to her. Stroking my hand gently through her hair, actually making her tilt her head back for more and exposing her smooth neck. Unable to resist, I imagined diving in like a vampire, licking and nibbling at her supple flesh, making her moan with delight. Slipping a hand down her neck, tucking it into the front of her dress, I gently cupped her breast, feeling the warm weight of it.
She pushed her dress down at the front, letting her beautiful tits free, her nipples already hard and sensitive. Working my way down her neck with soft kisses, I imagined going down over her chest and taking one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking lightly. Charlotte moaned deep and long, putting a hand on the back of my head. I continued to suck gently while caressing my hand up her inner thigh. Charlotte opened her legs as my hand approached her crotch, giving me easy access to her tight little pussy. Softly swirling my tongue around her nipple as I gently sucked her hard, little bud. I also massaged the outside of her pussy in light circles making her gasp and moan with pure delight.
When the sexy woman was ready, I stood her up and bent her over the table. Hiking up her dress, revealing her gorgeous ass, I imagined sliding Charlotte's panties down, and her stepping out of them, fully exposing her pussy and ass to me. I stroked my hard cock even harder as I imagined getting on my knees behind her and, taking her by the hips, burying my face into her pussy. Charlotte nearly screamed with joy, pushing back ever harder into my face so I might get my tongue even deeper into her pussy, bring
ing her to a body-shaking orgasm.
Giving her a moment to calm down, gently stroking the small of her back, I pressed the head of my cock against her tight little pussy and pushed slowly in. I managed to get about halfway into her pussy before she let out a soft cry. Backing off a bit, I took Charlotte by the hips and started to slowly move inside her. She shifted slightly with each of my thrusts.
Stroking myself even harder, working my cock to the edge of orgasm, I imagined picking up speed, pumping her tight little pussy. Charlotte moaned grateful hymns to the heavens as I pounded her to the gates of ecstasy.
I came harder than I had for a while into my hand in reality and deep into her pussy in my daydream. The Charlotte in my head nearly falling over as she trembled with orgasm, her knees actually buckling. Cleaning up, I scrubbed down, getting all clear and fresh for what might actually be my first date in nearly six years. No pressure.
With some help from Hayley who had come over to the Hotel as soon as I called, we were close that way, I got into the outfit she had picked out for me as soon as I had told her that I had a date with Charlotte. Hayley going so far as to tie one of her husband, Liam's, neckties on me.
“This is ridiculous,” I said, as she put the little rabbit thought the hole.
“You look amazing,” Hayley consoled.
“Amazingly ridiculous?” I asked.
“Oh, stop it,” she said, smacking me gently on the chest.
Dressed up nicely and smelling like an Irish spring, I went out to the Saturn to go and pick up Charlotte. I tried to get myself psyched up on the way with some heavy metal music. Like I used to do before going out on missions. It helped get me into a confident headspace.
I had gotten Charlotte's address from Hayley. I wasn't sure if either of us had told her this, which could lead to something of a surprise. Finding her surname, Foster, on the intercom, I pressed the button firmly and hopped for the best.
“Hello?” Charlotte asked, on the other side, a tang of surprise in her tone.
“Hi, it's Jacob,” I said.
“Oh, hi, I-I'll be right down,” she said in a way that very much indicated that she hadn't been expecting me.
A few minutes later, she appeared, looking a lot less formal than I did. Our positions basically reversed from the training day. I quickly got the tie off before she got a good look at me.
I got a good look at her, and she looked amazing. A bit more modest in terms of the amount of skin shown, but still very sexy in a different sort of way. Her outfit still accentuated her assets, so to speak, but spoke more to her personality and creativity. She never looked entirely comfortable in the little black dress, now I understood why.
“Ready?” I asked.
“As I'll ever be,” she said.
“Joke?” I asked.
“Half-hearted attempt,” she concurred.
I opened the car door for Charlotte, trying my best to act like a gent, even Charlotte having to duck a bit to get into the sedan. Squeezing myself into the driver's seat, I started up. The loud music blared up right where it left off. I reached out to turn it off when Charlotte put a hand on mine, stopping me.
“No, I like it.”
I hit the button to start the track again at the beginning and pulled out onto the road, both of us head-banging as we went.
We could smell the Frying Dutchman long before we got to the doors. I had looked the place up out of curiosity. In addition to the apparent pun relating to the legend of Davy Jones, the place had, in fact, be opened by one Pieter Van Pelt. Who had come to L.A. with a degree from Delico Kookstudio, a relatively good command of English, some start up capital and a dream. Really inspiring when you thought about it.
The interior was nicer than I would have thought. Particularly given the reported prices. Not interior fountains and live string quartets, which I've never really seen the point of honestly, but it was clear that an interior designer was not only hired but actually gave a damn. The server — who looked like she was wearing with the nicest version of her own clothes — pulled out our chairs, put down two menus, and disappeared with no annoying chat about the specials. Something that had always somewhat annoyed me.
“That was wonderfully terse,” I said, looked in the wake of the server.
“No wasted time here,” Charlotte agreed.
I was more nervous than I should have been but was doing my best to hide it. One of the first things you learn in the service is to hide weaknesses. Or any other kind of emotion for that matter. Properly trained soldiers were among the most coldly rational people I had ever encountered.
Charlotte was nervous too. I could see it in her body language. Slumped shoulders. Shaking hands. Evasive gaze.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“Instinct. I am too, honestly. I have really had much contact with anyone recently. Pretty much just Hayley and my therapist. In terms of long-term exposure anyway. I've been feeling pretty isolated, really. It's honestly surprising how easy it is to talk to you.”
“I know what that's like,” Charlotte confessed.
“Really?” I asked.
I would have thought she would have a lot of people around her. She was so hot and understanding and smart. Everything I could ever want or need in a lover or a friend.
“Yeah. I guess I've been isolating myself, too. I'm pretty sure Hayley asked me to come work at the firm to get me out of the house. It never really felt the same since my fiancé was killed in action in Afghanistan.”
“You too, hey?” I asked, this sounding very much like something my sister would do.
“She did the same with you?”
“Sure did. Not that I'm surprised, really. She has always been looking out for me.”
Charlotte smiled and took my hand. There was a spark of electricity between us. I knew we were there to set up a fake romance, but this was starting to feel real.
Chapter Six
Charlotte
At dinner, I felt excellent. I had gone so long without talking to anyone; it was amazing how easily I was able to open up to Jacob. I knew we had really only known each other for a day, but I felt really comfortable with him. It didn't hurt that he could see that I was nervous and admitted that he was too. Rather than making me more self-conscious, he really put me at ease, and we were able to talk a lot more freely.
It felt terrific to have contact with a man again. I wasn't sure I would be able to connect with anyone, but the spark between Jacob and me was getting to be undeniable. It wasn't just because he was sexy. That was certainly something that I noticed, his size, and handsomeness hard to miss. Though there was a lot more than that. There was something about him that seemed really comfortable. Like I could tell him anything, and he wouldn't judge. He also had a vaguely haunted look, like someone who had been through hell and come back, by the skin of his teeth, to tell the tale.
We ordered as much food and drink as we dared, still not knowing for sure when we were going to get paid despite technically having jobs. A fact which made the outing, my first in months, felt like a celebration.
“That looks about right,” Jacob said when the orders arrived.
“You know what Oscar Wilde said about thrift?” I asked.
“No, what did Oscar say?” Jacob asked, tucking the napkin into the collar of his shirt
with his right hand.
“The only way to truly console one's self for having no money is extravagance,” I said, trying to put some flourish on it.
“Interesting,” Jacob said, with a grin that made my knees weak.
I tried to get my head right and remember why we were there. “So, what are you thinking we should tell the landlord?” I asked.
“I've been thinking about that, and I'm not actually sure it matters in terms of trying to directly dissuade him on what he thinks about PTSD. It should be enough to show that there is a stable person there as well. We might even want to put the apartment in your name if i
t comes down to it,” Jacob explained.
“I have an apartment,” I said.
“Oh, I know, you wouldn't have to live there. We would just need to convince him that you're going to be there. I'll pay the rent after that,” he explained.
“Might he get suspicious when I'm not around? Is that the kind of thing that he could check on?” I asked.
“He lives in Santa Rosa most of the time. Not really known for spot checks. Basically, the only time we would be seeing him is when he shows us the place. If you're really concerned, you could move in with me.” He raised both his eyebrows.
“Oh!” I said, blushing furiously.
“I think that might have come out wrong.”
“Really?” I asked, not sure that I wanted it too.
“Not really, no. I actually meant it the way you heard it, I just wasn't sure if it was too soon,” Jacob said.
“Feels like it should be but no, not really. I mean, it could work. At least as friends at first.”
“That would work for me,” Jacob said.
“I'm surprised, honestly.”
“I can see that. But honestly, I really just like talking to you. I haven't felt this comfortable with a woman who isn't related to me since I was discharged. I mean, there were women around, but my company was all male, and there were some pretty strict anti-fraternization rules,” Jacob explained.
Without meaning to I had images of hot girls in military uniforms that Jacob would steadfastly ignore, so was his dedication to the rules. I really had to admire that kind of self-control.
“You were in the army?” I asked, it not occurring to me before.
“Yeah, for five years. That's why I have PTSD. Seeing someone get blown to bits will do that,” Jacob said, surprisingly calm.
