Pretend For Me

by Laurent, River

  Every time he touched me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were meant to be something more. More than just this fakery, more than just this game we were playing to outwit his grandfather.

  As soon as the ceremony was over, we headed out of the registry and back to his apartment. His secretary had arranged for all the new stuff I had purchased to be transferred to his apartment, much to my relief, because I already felt the toll the day was taking on me, weighing heavy on my shoulders.

  Chapter 10

  Willow

  "You okay?" Gabe asked, a little stiffly, from the other side of the limo.

  I nodded and smoothed my white dress over my knees. I didn’t know what to think, how to feel. I wished I could have been with Lorraine right now, just to talk all of this out and get my head on straight, but I was with my new husband. I had to find some way to keep myself together. "Yeah, I’m fine," I assured him. "Just... can’t believe this is really happening, that’s all."

  "Hey, don’t get too worried," he warned me with a smile. "It’s not going to be for long. As soon as the contracts are signed over in my name, you’re back to the real world."

  "Right," I agreed, even though admitting this stung a little. I wasn’t sure why I felt that way. It wasn’t as if he’d promised me anything different. Yet, there was a part of me, a small, very tiny part of me, that didn’t want this to be that easy for him.

  "Okay, we’re here," he remarked as the driver pulled the door open on my side. Before I could get out, he was already at my side, holding a helping hand out to me. A couple of people glanced at us as we headed towards the apartment, the bride and groom, fresh from our wedding. I plastered a happy smile on my face and hoped that none of them were looking too closely.

  When we got into the apartment, it was deathly quiet.

  Gabe turned towards me and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Look, I have to get back to the office.” He gestured towards the main living area. "You have everything you need in the kitchen for a quick sandwich, but if you want a proper meal or anything, just call the chef."

  "You have a chef?” I gasped. I knew he was rich, but I didn’t realize he was quite that rich.

  "Yeah, he’s on the extension list next to the door," he replied, shrugging, as though it should have been obvious. "I’ll be back late. So go ahead and make yourself at home." He turned to head to the door, but before he did, he paused and glanced up at me, and I don’t know why but my heart skipped a beat.

  "Oh, and put some of your clothes in the closet in my room," he told me. "Just in case anyone comes snooping."

  "Sure," I agreed.

  He smiled at me, his hand on the door. “Thanks for doing this for me.”

  "No problem," I said, and watched as he went out and closed the door. I retreated to the space that would be mine for the foreseeable future. I pretended to be glad to have a little time to myself to think.

  I went and sat on the bed that looked like it probably cost more than a full year of tips I made at the restaurant. From where I sat, I could see the walk-in wardrobe that was by now, no doubt, populated with all the fancy garments Lorraine and I had picked out. Suddenly, I felt quite sad. I never thought my wedding day would be like this. When I was reading all those romance books, I had dreamed of something special for me.

  I walked over to the wardrobe, opened it, and cast my eye over the row of heels. Most of them were chosen by Lorraine. A small box of my own clothes had been tucked away at the far end of the wardrobe, and I went to grab a few bits and pieces, stripping hurriedly out of my wedding dress and tossing it aside. It crumpled on the floor like a napkin.

  I pulled on my comfortable sweats and felt slightly better.

  I decided to make myself a sandwich. In my bare feet, I made my way to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and it was indeed, richly stocked with all kinds of food. I made myself a cheese sandwich and took it to the vast living room. Putting my glass of orange juice and plate of sandwich on the coffee table, I opened the sliding door and went out onto the balcony. It was quite cool, but it felt nice.

  I ate my sandwich alone on the balcony.

  I washed my plate and glass and put them away. Then I went back to the big black sofa and sat down. It was surprisingly comfortable and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep. When I woke up it was dark. For a second, I didn’t know where I was and it startled me, but then I remembered.

  I thought of Gabe, working at his office. What a strange man. If I had the money he had, I would never work as hard as he did. I would be out enjoying my life, not trying to earn more shekels to add to the shekels I couldn’t possibly spend in my lifetime.

  I stretched and made my way to the bathroom. All my new makeup and toiletries were waiting for me there. I decided to take a shower with the crazy-expensive soap I’d been persuaded to buy, the kind made with jasmine and amber, or so the woman at the counter claimed.

  It was one of those luxurious ceiling mount showerheads. I stood under it and closed my eyes. The steam rushed around me and distantly, I heard someone moving in the apartment. I recognized the footfalls at once. It had to be him, back at last. I wondered if I should go out and greet him, play the dutiful wife, but what would be the point? It wasn’t like there was anyone around to see us, and my guess was he probably just wanted to be left alone.

  But still.

  The two of us were alone together, in this apartment, husband and wife, on our wedding night, no less. Not that I intended to let my brain stray to any untoward places, but if I did, now was the time. I washed myself carefully, letting the silky bubbles run down my skin as I listened intently to him outside.

  Slowly, I found my hand trailing down between my legs. I knew this was dangerous, that I was indulging in an attraction to him that I should never have allowed myself to have in the first place, but I didn’t care. I skimmed my fingers over my clit and let out a moan, cloaked by the sound of the water tumbling down around me.

  What if I just went out there and asked him to join me? How would he react? Maybe he would just laugh in my face and tell me to get my shit together, that our marriage was nothing other than a business arrangement.

  Or maybe...

  I let my mind stray. In my head, he climbed into the shower beside me. Sliding his hands around my body, he brushed my fingers away from between my legs and replaced them with his own. He pulled my hips back so the jet of water was directly against my pussy, as he stroked me, held me and kissed up and down along my shoulder and my neck, his slick, strong body tense against mine...

  I could hear him moving around outside, and it was almost enough for me to convince myself that he was headed in my direction. I didn’t know what he’d been doing while he was out of the house. Probably working his ass off, but in my mind, I convinced myself that he had spent the time thinking about me, about touching me, holding me, having me. I remembered his lips against my cheek at the ceremony, and I could have sworn I felt that spot burning once again. I grabbed the free-standing shower head and pulled it down to my pussy, allowing the pulsing pummel of the jets to tip me over the edge. I clamped my hand over my mouth to muffle the cry that erupted from my mouth as my orgasm ricocheted through me.

  I caught my breath and returned the shower head to its spot, hoping that he hadn’t heard me, or that if he had… some part of me wanted him to take it as the open invitation it was. But the sane part of me, the stronger part, the part in control, knew better than to let myself indulge my feelings for him.

  That would be batshit crazy.

  A man like him was out of bounds to me. The only time he would go for someone like me was if it was part of some bizarre, twisted-up game like the one, he was playing with his late grandfather’s estate right now.

  Things were already complex enough, and the last thing I needed was to add another complication in the form of sex on to this highly unusual situation.

  Chapter 11

  Gabe

  I woke early the next morning, before
the sun had even risen and stared out at the softly-lit city beyond my window. It was pretty in this light with the pinks and deep hues of the almost-dawn.

  A dream lingered in the back of my mind. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t quite remember it, but there were flickering memories dancing over my mind. Grey eyes, soft, full lips curled up into a smile. The feeling of hands on my body, silky skin against my hardness, soft hair brushing over my chest.

  I pushed the images to the back of my mind. I knew precisely who it was about and the last thing I needed was to indulge in the dumb little fantasies I’d been allowing my overheated brain to make about my wife. My eyes snapped open. She was not my wife as such. She was just my pretend wife.

  And there was a damn good reason for it.

  We hadn’t even spent our wedding night together, for God’s sake. I did consider offering her a drink when I arrived home last night to celebrate our union, or more appropriately, the deal, but I heard the shower running and I didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, the thought of the warm water coursing all over her curves was more than I could take, distinctly dangerous to my current state of mind.

  I stretched and rolled out of bed. Grabbing some clothes, I pulled them on as I headed to the kitchen. My plan was to get a glass of water, then head down to the gym to squeeze in a workout for an hour, hopefully burn off some of the excess energy that was clearly giving me strange and unwelcome ideas about Willow.

  I was greeted by a sight that caused a different kind of thirst. A raging thirst.

  Willow was standing by the island with her back to me, her long hair loose and wild over her shoulders and wearing nothing but a strappy top and a matching pair of pale pink panties. They looked gorgeous against her perfectly pale skin and her butt looked incredible, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, the way her curvy body filled out her skimpy attire was making me want to reach out and sink my fingers into that peachy ass...

  "Oh!” she squeaked, whirling around to face me.

  Apparently, she’d been eating a bowl of cereal, holding it in her hand as she munched and stared out of the tall windows. Then she jerked with shock when I startled her, as the milk jumped out of her bowl and splashed down the front of her thin silk top.

  In a split-second, I could make out the outline of her breasts and her hardened nipples.

  Fuck! I couldn’t stop staring.

  "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you," she blurted out, grabbing a towel and mopping at herself.

  I wanted to pull my gaze away. I swear I wanted to, but I stood there like a man mesmerized. I could see her breasts perfectly through the transparent top. I wanted to throw her up against a wall and lick her clean myself. The thought was so lewd, the image so intensely vivid, that it even took me by surprise.

  I tore my gaze away from her, forcing my attention onto something, anything. I stared stupidly at the polished granite top of the island counter.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said again.

  "You didn’t…" I muttered. I realized that my averted face would be as much of a giveaway to my attraction as actually looking at her would. "I was just... uh, I was just getting myself something to drink. I’m headed to the gym. Doesn’t matter. I’ll get some there."

  "No, don’t do that. I’ll get out of your hair," she said quickly, and immediately shot past me in the direction of her bedroom.

  Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I turned to watch her go. I was almost overwhelmed by the urge to ask her to stay.

  No, more than that. I wanted to reach out and grab her lush body, touch her, fuck her, lift her up on to the island top, open her legs, and screw her till she screamed my name. I wanted to peel the sopping fabric off her skin and expose her. I wanted to see all of her, use her, and make her mine, more than I did the day before when I’d married her.

  What was a marriage without consummation, right...?

  But I stopped myself before I made a fool of myself. What the fuck is going on in my head? This wasn’t what I had signed up for. Quite the opposite, actually. I was meant to barely see her beyond what we needed to do to convince other people we were the real deal. Yet, here I was, feeling as though I might lose control in my own house. All because she was a little scantily-clad?

  If she hadn’t walked out, I would have had to, just to keep my shit together. That was how into her I was.

  That was how badly I wanted her.

  Which was insane. Because she wasn’t my type. She wasn’t anything like the women I normally went for: she didn’t come from the same lifestyle, didn’t move in the same circles, didn’t bother with the same kind of people. We were a terrible match for one another, apart from the fact I wanted to fuck her brains out.

  I needed to get a grip. This was only day two. If I carried on this way, it would all go to hell in a handbasket. It would only work as long as we both stuck to our side of the agreement and that didn’t involve, for one second, acting on a fleeting attraction.

  Willow was just a girl, after all. Just a girl. I could find one of them whenever I wanted to. What mattered was that she was the key to getting the business I knew I deserved. The business I had worked all my life to get. That was my ultimate goal. Not her.

  Chapter 12

  Willow

  As I hurried back to my room, I couldn’t help but see the look on his face. It was as though he had been actually, truly furious at me for being there. I wasn’t sure whether I was more embarrassed, or hurt, or just completely infuriated about the whole thing.

  He said to make myself at home. I hadn’t intended to wake him when I’d gone through for something to eat, but I had woken early in this unfamiliar place and I knew that breakfast would make me feel a little more at home here. How was I to know he would wake up at dawn and come to the kitchen? Anyway, I would have been wearing less if I’d been in a bikini on a beach.

  What had I done that was so wrong?

  After all, he was the one who’d come up with this entire proposition. He was the one who had wanted me to marry him, come here, live with him and play at being his wife. And he had been perfectly – well, maybe sweet was an overstatement, but he had been perfectly pleasant and polite until this morning.

  I frowned. Earning the million dollars looked like it might be a whole lot harder than I had imagined. I didn’t want to believe that. All this effort for nothing. So I tried to find excuses for him.

  Maybe it was just that I had caught him first thing in the morning; he said he was heading off to the gym, but maybe he wanted to be alone. Maybe he wasn’t much used to having women hanging out at his place. When I was looking around the apartment, I never saw a single sign that any women had ever left their mark in his life. In fact, I got the feeling that I might have been one of the only women he’d actually brought back to this place and certainly one of the rare ones who’d been allowed to stay more than one night.

  I sat at the edge of my bed, staring sullenly out through the window. Eventually, I went to the window and looked to the street below. People were just starting to go out and head off to work— suddenly, I found myself missing Lorraine and our cozy little flat. I had even quit my job. What on earth was I going to do all day here on my own? What reason would there be to get out of bed every morning?

  At that moment of self-pity, I almost felt nostalgic for the stingy customers who didn’t want to leave a tip because I was such a lousy waitress, or Leo’s screaming hysterically because I got an order wrong and being able to bitch it out with Lorraine. We always had fun sharing our stories of shitty customers, trying to outdo one another with who’d had the worst day, who’d had to deal with the most absurd demand.

  I shot her off a text, but I knew she would still be sleeping after her shift last night.

  I listened to Gabe as he headed out of the apartment and down the stairs, then let out a breath. Okay, so I didn’t have to worry about running into him again, at least until he got home at the end of the day. I didn’t want to have to see him, not until
I’d had a chance to get my head a little straighter about what the hell was going on here.

  Because all of this seemed to be such a mess.

  Yes, I felt attracted to him, but as soon as he had laid eyes on me this morning, he had practically made a dash for the front door, like he couldn’t stand to spend even one second with me. So, it was clear the feeling was far from mutual. This was a bad start to my year with him and I wasn’t sure exactly how long I would be able to take it.

  Quite frankly, the way I was feeling right now, he could stick his million dollars where the sun didn’t shine if he was planning to treat me the way he did this morning for the rest of our year together.

  I sighed and got to my feet, wandering through to the closet which was full of the most beautiful clothes I’d ever seen in my life. And I didn’t have anywhere to wear them. I wished there was somewhere I could go, something I could do, that would justify me throwing on some of these absurdly beautiful clothes.

  Maybe I could put on the fitted pantsuit and go down to a coffee shop nearby? But shit, I didn’t even have a set of keys yet, there would be no way to do that and get back in without him. I was stuck in the apartment, with no entertainment, no friends, no work to do. How the fuck would I pass the time?

  I wandered through the house for a while, picking at the food in the fridge and peering out the window on to the streets below and reading, but I couldn’t concentrate. Eventually, I snuck into his bedroom, peering around and taking it in. That’s when I stuck my head into his en-suite bathroom, and gasped.

  There was a Jacuzzi in there, a huge, sprawling chunk of marbled ceramic with jets studded around the inside. It looked amazing… I instantly felt the urge to climb in and douse myself in warm, comforting water. It was his bath, but he did say I could make myself at home.