Faking It

by Black, Natasha L.

  “Yeah, you could say that,” I said blushing a little. I let the dogs loose and they scampered away.

  “Well you look pretty happy. I’m glad. We were a little concerned about you rushing into this.”

  “I know. Come sit down,” I said. We sat on the couch, and I turned toward her. “See, my only fear was that I’d slept with him too soon. We did—before the wedding.”

  “I kinda figured that, Al,” she said.

  “Why is that?”

  “He’s hot and charming, and you looked at him like he was giving out free ice cream and you were first in line. The first night he came to your place, I thought you’d probably hook up then.”

  “Ew, no! Not the day I met him! No, it was a couple of weeks ago. But we’d been together less than a month, and that’s not something I’ve ever done before. It was like I was possessed. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

  “Relax. I slept with Carson on the second date.”

  “Yeah and ended up with a restraining order against him. You and Carson are not my model for a relationship,” I said.

  “Fine, see if I try to reassure you again. Make fun of my dating history. Yeah, he turned out to be a psycho, but he was really nice at first. I don’t regret sleeping with him. I regret not using a Taser on him the first time I found him outside my dorm once we’d broken up. But no sex regret.”

  “That’s healthy, I think,” I said, grimacing.

  “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  “The thing is, I’ve never been insecure or anything, but the ego boost of a man like Raul choosing me—it’s given me so much more confidence. He makes me feel valued. I know getting married so quickly is—like a wartime thing, not a usual thing. But it can work. It feels like it works.”

  “Don’t overthink everything, Al. If you’re happy, be happy.”

  “That’s probably the best advice I’ve ever gotten, Addy. Thank you,” I said, giving her a big hug. “Love my sisters.”

  “Love my sisters,” she said back, “Now I have to head to back to school. My study group meets tonight.”

  “Bye, sweetie,” I said.

  Back upstairs, I found Raul in his home gym working out. I sat down on the bench and had a bottle of water while I ogled the rippling muscles. It was better than anything on TV, that was for sure.

  “Wanna take a nap?” I offered with a mischievous smile on my face.

  “Only if you’ll take a shower with me first. I’ve worked up quite a sweat.”

  “I can’t imagine a better offer than that. Let me wash your back,” I giggled.

  We practically raced to the master bath with its massive marble shower and multiple showerheads and steam settings. I frankly hadn’t figured out how to work them yet. Raul peeled off his workout shorts and toed off his shoes. I stood there, mouth dry with want, and looked at him.

  He cut his eyes to me, that gorgeous, intense gaze, “Why don’t you take your clothes off?” he said.

  I snapped to attention and started removing my clothes at once, so fast that I was clumsy, and sneaking looks at his muscular thighs and ass, his impressive length even semi-hard. Boldly, I stripped off the rest of my clothes and walked over to him. I put my mouth to his collarbone, kissing and licking, dying to taste his salty sweat.

  He let out a loud groan and I felt the bob of his erection against my stomach as if my mouth on his skin excited him.

  “What was that?” I said mischievously.

  He heaved out a hard breath. “God you feel amazing,” he said, his hands instantly on my breasts. Within seconds, my nipples ached with heaviness and yearning, his rough, calloused fingers working me over until I could feel how wet I was between my legs already. I stroked his bare chest, his sides, his hips. I ran my hands over his ass appreciatively and sucked his bottom lip as I did.

  “Turn on the water,” he said roughly. “Or I’m going to have you before the shower starts.”

  The idea of him needing me so much that he couldn’t stop, of him just feeling irresistibly drawn to me—it was a pretty intoxicating feeling and didn’t do my ego any harm.

  I leaned over and turned on a faucet and flipped a lever. Water poured out of two of the showerheads and one jet thing that looked like it would hurt if it hit you in the belly with that much force. He chuckled low in his throat, a sound that sent warm tingles up my spine. I wanted to rub up against him, naked stomach and chest to naked stomach and chest, and twist and rub back and forth like a cat just for the satisfaction of getting his heat and scent all over me. I felt like an animal in some ways, desperate for him.

  “Come here,” he said, bossy in a thrilling way. I went to him as he stepped in the shower.

  He moved me in front of him and took my hand. He placed it on the controls and guided my hand as he adjusted the direction, flow and temperature of the shower. He pressed buttons that made a hot mist spray my lower back and my butt, a hard and vibrating blast beat on my shoulders, and a silky wave of warm water trailing along the length of my body in some sort of series of showerheads flowing in a sequence. Then he took a handheld showerhead, flipped it on, checked the temperature on his own arm, and then directed the warm water pressure onto my chest, first one nipple and then the other. I gasped, and he reached around and kissed me, his tongue in my mouth as he seduced me with a showerhead.

  “I thought you were the one who needed a shower after your workout,” I said a little breathlessly.

  “Oh, trust me, I need this even more,” he said, his voice silky and sexual. He reached around from behind me, his hand cupping my breast, lifting it so my nipple was fully laved by the force of the spray. It puckered immediately, a shiver going through my body. I tried to pull away from the too-intense pressure, but my back came in contact with his huge erection. I gasped in response, and he moved the showerhead in slow tight circles. I leaned back against him, surrendering, my head tossing from side to side against his chest as he moved the shower spray down my stomach and between my legs. The pulsing pressure of the water on my clit drove me wild. I cried out as my orgasm built. He took away the showerhead for a moment, and I practically growled at him. I felt a clench of anticipation between my legs. He was going to give me that big, heavy erection right where I needed it, spearing into the wet, needy core of me. I felt his big hands at my shoulders, sliding down my wet arms until he took my hands in his. He pressed them flat to the wall, then tugged at my hips until I bent over.

  Raul entered me from behind. I saw stars as he filled me, hitting just the right angle, the head of his cock nudging a spot inside me that made me gasp with an effervescent, light feeling of bubbling pleasure. Then he released my hips with one hand to seize the shower head and aim it mercilessly between my legs. The pulsing stream of warm water struck my clit as he pounded into me from behind with a steady rhythm. My palms itched and burned. The soles of my feet twitched. Pleasure mounted like a volcano within me until I arched and screamed, my palm slapping the wet shower wall to punctuate the sharp spikes of pleasure tearing through me. Spent, I slumped against the wall as Raul finished, his hard cock plunging into me deeply and rocking until I felt him stiffen and heard his gorgeous, fierce shout of completion. His hands were on my belly, dragging me back against him as he came. I cried out myself at the delicious impact of his orgasm within me. It sent shockwaves of rippling pleasure through me, another climax of my own just from my response to his.

  When he slid out of me, he turned me around under the stream of the shower and kissed me, mouth open and questing. I met him stroke for stroke with my tongue, reveling in the sheer sensuality of our coupling. He hauled me against him and brushed his lips against my cheek.

  “You’re incredible, Allison Santiago,” he said.

  11

  Raul

  Pablo was aggravated with me, because I wouldn’t let the stable hands put on Allie’s tack that first time. I selected the saddle and bridle myself and put them on the beautiful white horse with my own two hands. The
re was something about preparing her mount, readying the horse for its mistress, for my bride, that felt old-fashioned and good to me. I was keeping her safe, making sure everything was fitted out properly. She joined me at the stables in a pair of jeans that hugged every curve and dip and hollow of her ass and legs in a way that made it hard for me to use my brain. She wore aviator sunglasses, and I teased her that she just needed a hat.

  “Only city girls wear shades.”

  “I am a city girl, kind of. A town girl.”

  “No, you’re a rancher’s wife. You need a hat.”

  “I have the rancher. I don’t need anything else,” she said slyly. I sidled up to her and kissed her long and hard for that.

  She went to the horse’s head and whispered, touching the muzzle and speaking soothing words. I watched how focused and gentle she was, how she respected the horse as more than just transportation. I liked watching Allie with the horse. I’d known from the moment I saw it that this mount should be hers. And she had named it Moonlight.

  I set up the mounting block for her, gave her a hand as she stepped in the stirrup and swung her leg over.

  “Are the stirrups long enough?” she said.

  “Yes, I want a little bend in your knee. It helps with balance and control. We’re not seeing how long you can stretch your leg,” I said.

  “Right. I haven’t ridden much since I was a kid. I didn’t remember exactly.”

  Still, she sat the horse comfortably, patted Moonlight’s neck and smiled at me, “I love her.”

  “I’m glad,” I said.

  I handed the mounting block to a stable hand and swung into my own saddle. I looked over my shoulder to tell Allie we were ready to go. She was already gone. She’d started off without me at a canter. I could see her ponytail fluttering in the light wind. I caught up to her easily on Mantilla and caught her laughing.

  “Did you think I was waiting for instruction?” she said.

  “I was misled. I thought since you asked about the stirrups you were a little nervous. Apparently, you’re a confident rider.”

  “Apparently,” she said with a smile. “Let’s go.”

  I took her over the property, a long ride out to the fence line and around, showing in the two herds and pointing out the differences. We stopped at one of the barns so she could see how the kittens had grown.

  “Oh, they’re so big. And they’re shy of me now,” she said, bending down near them as they streaked away.

  “They’re not pets. I just thought you’d like to see them.”

  She sat down on the floor of the barn; hands palm up. I wondered if she was going to start chanting or something weird—like she was taking up barn meditation. I watched as she sat still, a smile on her face and minutes ticked by. Little by little, the gray cat came toward her, cautious and on edge. At last, it bopped her fingers with its nose, and she gave a soft laugh. She scratched its head, “That’s right, you remember me, don’t you? You smelled me before when I held you.”

  I looked at her like it was some kind of magic trick. She got up and brushed herself off, then toured the barn with me.

  “You know, I didn’t know what in hell you were doing. I thought I was supposed to take a picture for Instagram,” I said. She laughed.

  “Like hashtag-barn-Zen? No. I just wanted to see if the gray one would come to me. I held her for a while that time, against my chest and on my shoulder. She even got her claws tangled in my hair that day and kept meowing like I was trying to capture her.”

  We got back on our horses and rode around more of the property. I took her out to the pond, and while the horses drank, we sat on the bank to rest them.

  “I’ve always lived and worked this place every waking minute, but the inheritance will mean running it—will mean more oversight of the Italian properties as well as business meetings here and in the city. It’s going to be more demanding than I was used to because my grandfather handled more of the administrative side as he got older. He liked to go to meetings, rubbing elbows with the directors of some charity or whatever ranching or cattleman’s organization he was on the board of. I’ll have to take on another foreman to take over some of the ranch operations so I can be the rep at those events,” I sighed.

  “Let me guess, you’d rather be on a horse,” she said.

  “Exactly. So we all have to grow up sometime. I guess I got to play cowboy longer than most men do before I had to put on a suit for work. I’ll still be out here most days, but assuming full ownership has additional responsibilities. There may be some events that require you to attend.”

  “I see. I think I’d like that. Will having me there make it easier?”

  “Definitely,” I said, somehow relieved that she’d agreed so easily.

  “Will you be working longer hours?”

  “Some days I will. I know there will be days I’m gone to the Metroplex for meetings with some of these ranching associations. My financial guys are in Lubbock, and I expect to spend a lot of time there for a month or so. Before, I worked from around seven in the morning until dark. I can’t guarantee I won’t be gone more than that now.”

  I wondered if she’d like that better, having the house to herself and her fake husband out of her way most of the time. I waited for her response and reminded myself that, phenomenal sex aside, we were in a business arrangement, not a romance. She didn’t owe me reassurance or affection. I made a show of shielding my eyes and looking up at the clouds rolling overhead.

  “When you’re home, I’ll be here,” she said. “If I’m going to be living here, it makes for a pretty long commute to the clinic. I thought I might cut back on my days there, and maybe I can help out around here? You know, make sure the animals are healthy and such.”

  I was surprised by her suggestion. “I think you should do what’s right for you. You don’t have to work at all if you don’t want to. In fact, you’ll never have to hold another job with the settlement you’re going to get. By marrying me and moving in here, you’ll fulfill your part of the bargain. You don’t have to be here to support me or spend time with me.”

  “Don’t you want me to?” she asked.

  She didn’t sound like a woman who was pleading for validation. She sounded exactly like a sly woman who already knew the damn answer to that. I couldn’t fault her for that confidence.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, “but I wouldn’t ask you to give up something you love as much as the clinic.”

  “I won’t be giving it up. I’ll be scaling back. I can help with the horses. I can even help vaccinate your cattle, deliver foals and calves—”

  “You’re ready to be a part of this aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I really am,” she said with a winning smile.

  I liked having her there on Santeria and liked the idea she’d be waiting for me when I had to go out of town; that she was choosing to commit herself further to the marriage. It felt like my ranch and my life were a priority for her, and that was meaningful.

  “That means a lot to me,” I told her.

  “I know,” she said, and lay back on the grass to look at the sky.

  I couldn’t help kissing her then. We kissed so long I was sure the stars would come out before I opened my eyes and lifted my mouth from hers. I’d never kissed anyone that way, like the kissing was all that mattered. Like our bodies were having a conversation, lips and tongues and breath connecting us. I didn’t urge it on, take off her clothes—although she would’ve let me—or try to progress beyond the incredible sensation of my tongue in her soft, wet mouth. Kissing Allie was sexier than full sex had been with anyone else. Something about the smell and taste of her appealed to me, the way she moved and reached for me, the twist of her leg hooking around mine.

  More than just the kissing and the sex, I liked being with her. Allie made me laugh. She showed me silly tricks her dogs could do and dressed Dori in a red and gold bandanna “because those are Gryffindor colors and we all know Dumbledore favored Gryffindor.” She was so serio
us about it that it was impossible not to laugh.

  That night, we only made it to the couch, and she left her tall, black leather Santi boots on the whole time we fucked. Never had I considered how sexy my leather goods business could be, but she had definitely shown me the advantage of giving her boots from the label. I could feel myself forming an attachment that I told myself I didn’t want. But who the fuck was I kidding? I was loving every minute of it.

  Waking up with Allie every morning was something else I found I liked. Starting the day to my early alarm clock didn’t seem so terrible when she was curled soft and warm against my side. Most days she snuggled into me and held on, not wanting me to get up. Sometimes she’d kiss me, I’d kiss her back and get her to straddle me for a morning ride. Even if she slept through my alarm, she was a good thing in my life, the promise of her at home every night and in my bed every morning.

  The first time I took her to a charity event, she wore a long black dress with a slit up the leg, her hair loose and shining. I had loved holding her hand, introducing her as my wife. We had stayed the night in a hotel, had slow danced on the balcony. We made love and then ate room service chocolate cake in bed, feeding it to each other and laughing. It was the only time I’d ever enjoyed going into the city and staying overnight—I was always in a hurry to get back to the ranch and check on things. Now I had Allie, and she was where I wanted to be.

  It was strange being so happy away from the ranch that had always been my focus. I hadn’t even realized how lonely I was until the feeling was gone, replaced by excitement about getting home to her, the comfort and allure of being with her. We had struck a lucky balance of friendship and lust. I only hoped it could continue. If so, these could be the best three years of my life. I felt a little vengeful glee as well, because my grandfather couldn’t have known that his plan to make me marry would make me so happy as well.