Boyfriend Maintenance

by Helms, Lauren

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand what the big deal is.”

  She sighs. “When I declared my independence, I went against everything my father had planned for me. When you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth, you’re not supposed to spit it out.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I did. And no one from that world understood. I was the talk of the town. A disgraced high-society princess, if you will. Kitty couldn’t spin enough shit to sweep our dirty laundry under the rug. No, I was a hot topic, the gossip mill was turning. My father was furious. He said I was betraying him. And Levi never understood how I could walk away from the only life I knew. But supported my decision because he’s my brother.”

  “Well, you do work for a competitor.” I point this out, but it's unimportant. I’m just buying myself time to process what she’s saying.

  “Kind of.” She acts like she’s had this argument before, but I don’t care to open that can of worms.

  “What about Becca?”

  “Loved me no matter what. She’d never walk away from her trust, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t had my back from the start.”

  I think over everything she just shared for a few seconds. There’s still one fact that I’m hung up on.

  “You lied to me,” I spit out. My thoughts keep circling back to that fact. She freaking lied to me. “Why did you let me believe you were made of money? I thought I knew you. I thought all the stuff you’ve told me about yourself was the truth. I don’t even know what’s real anymore.” She fucking lied to me. After all the bullshit my mom went through with my dickhead of a father, leaving us after finding out about his “second” family, I can't find it in me to easily forgive a liar. No matter how unimportant.

  “It was only as real as you were going to allow it to be.”

  “So, it’s my fault you’ve been lying to me? Nice.” I shake my head. I don’t believe this shit right now. I push off the couch.

  “That’s not what I said. From the start you made it known how you felt about my type.” She air quotes the last word. “With offhanded comments, requesting more money and expensive clothes, and your stupid no-screwing-the-residents rule, you made it clear you didn’t ever want this to be real.”

  I start for the door, but I’m not done. I turn back toward her. “For someone who doesn’t care about what other people think about her why the hell would you let me believe such a lie?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “I thought we were pretending. You were pretending to be my fake boyfriend and I the rich trust-fund brat you assumed me to be.”

  “That's bullshit,” I bellow and stop the tracks I was making back and forth across her floor.

  She stands and squares her shoulders but doesn’t make a move to come closer to me. “No, it’s not. You're the one that started changing the tone of this”—she waves a hand between us—“thing between us. Kissing me and touching me. I can feel the desire pouring off of you when I stand too close. You made this more than what it was ever supposed to be.”

  Shit.

  “You’re right. I want you so fucking bad. I’m so fucking attracted to you that I can barely handle being in the same room with you, let alone standing right next to you. I’m drawn to you and I thought I was getting to know you more and more each time we were together. And now I’ve come to find that you’ve fucking lied to me about everything.” I can’t help yelling. I’m so frustrated. My mind is telling me to be livid, my body … well, something else entirely.

  “I lied about one thing, Jake. That I don’t have money. Everything I own, I bought it with my own hard-earned money. Why are you so angry to find that out?” The volume of her voice nearly matches mine from just moments ago. She crosses her arms and juts out a hip like she is the one who gets to be mad at me.

  “You live here in the god damn 425 Madison building. You wear designer clothes.” My brain is still trying to connect the dots. I feel like a toddler unable to understand such a simple concept.

  “Becca owns this apartment. I pay her deeply discounted rent each month. And these clothes”—she flicks the denim jacket she’s wearing—“I get them from discount stores and secondhand shops. Why does it matter so much that I don't have money? Are you worried you're not going to get paid? I made a deal with you, you’ll get your money.”

  I just shake my head because I don’t care about that.

  “Are you mad because you were only into me because you thought I had money?” She doesn’t yell this, but her tone is coarser.

  “Fuck no! If anything, I want you more,” I hiss back at her. Shit. I can’t believe I just said that. But it’s out there now.

  “What?” Her voice is now a near whisper.

  “I refuse to be with someone who has the ability to make me feel bad about my upbringing. My childhood was hard, but I wouldn’t change it. I’ve dated one-too-many women who were never going to be happy with some poor maintenance man. Every high-society brat I ever dated couldn’t handle how everyone looked down on me because I worked with my hands and not with my mind in some stuffy business suit. But you … you come from money yet you walked away from all of it so you could be a normal person, which makes you more like me than anyone else I’ve ever dated.”

  She ponders this for a moment. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. I want to kiss her so badly right now.

  “Then why are you so mad at me?” Confusion is thick around her words. I suddenly realize that we are standing nearly chest to chest in the middle of the room. I don’t remember us moving toward each other.

  “Because you lied to me.” I have no anger left in me, my reply is only a matter of fact.

  “Well you know everything now. There’s nothing more to lie about, my truths are all lying here in front of you.” She gestures, as if to show them all over the floor.

  “Good.”

  She bites her lip and I look down at her mouth. For some reason it’s even more enticing than it was all the times before.

  “Now what?” Her breath is a whisper across my face, and I answer by doing the only other thing there is left to do.

  I kiss her.

  Chapter 15

  Emmy

  Standing there kissing in the middle of the dimly lit living room, everything that we just argued about melts into nothingness. It’s only Jake and Emmy in this moment. None of the bullshit that happened earlier with my brother, or Jake yelling and being angry at me for not telling him the truth about walking away from millions—none of that matters in this moment.

  We’ve been dancing around each other for nearly two weeks now. I’m drawn to him even though we don’t know each other very well. Now that he’s made his move—or did I make the first move? No matter who moved first, this whole thing between us feels like it was inevitable from the start.

  Jake’s hands grip my hair as my arms wrap around behind his neck. The air swirling around us crackles and shifts as our kissing becomes less needy and more passionate. His hands fall away from my hair and slide down my back, stopping at my butt. He pulls me into him then hoists me up and, once again, I find myself wrapping my legs around his waist. Jake pulls back from kissing my swollen lips but not far.

  “Bedroom or couch?” His lips cover mine again, giving me no chance to answer his question. I pull my hand from his hair and wave in the general direction of my room, too addicted to his mouth to be more specific. I nearly moan in relief that he understands my nonverbal command.

  Without ever breaking our contact, he walks us in the direction of my room. Before we make it all the way into the bedroom, he lowers me back onto my feet. Leaning back into the doorframe, I stare up at him. His eyes are hooded, his lips puffy from my own. A brief pang of panic surges through my veins that maybe he’s changed his mind. When his smile slowly drags across his face, the feeling evaporates immediately. He leans back into me, leaving only a millimeter of space between us. I can’t look away from his heat-filled eyes as he closes the gap.

  His hands find my hair again, gently tugg
ing at it—a feeling I like all too much. I reach down and pull his shirt from his pants, fumbling with the buttons. It’s not my finest moment when trying to undress a man, but I’m finding it hard to focus on the damn buttons while his tongue is dancing with mine.

  Shit, why are there so many buttons?

  The struggle is real, and he chuckles.

  Finally freeing the last button, I slide my hands up his hot, bare chest, pushing his shirt away as he shrugs out of it. I admire him for a moment, standing there in only his slacks, then I reach for his belt buckle.

  He shakes his head. “You need to catch up.”

  I pull off my denim jacket with incredible ease, all while watching him slowly undo his belt. Once he’s unbuckled it, he pauses his progress and kisses me again.

  Running my hands over the hard muscles of his arms and chest, I take in the soft but taut feel of his skin. My touch must trigger a shift as hands start roaming and kisses become more urgent.

  Barely breaking the kiss, he reaches down and grabs the hem of my skirt in his fist. Pulling it up and over my head, the skirt and top coming off together, he leaves me in only my fleshy pink undies and matching strapless.

  “You’re so gorgeous, Emmy.” His reverent voice is uneven as he takes me in.

  This time when our lips meet, his hands also find my breasts.

  My own hands clearly have a mind of their own as they drift down his body with a clear destination. Wasting no time, I pop the button and shove my hand down his pants, grabbing him firmly.

  His kiss falters, his breathing catches, and he drops his head to my shoulder as I adjust my grip for a better hold. I pump up and down only a few times before he pulls away from me.

  Smugness clouds his face as he picks me up again—this seems to be his thing—and carries me to my bed. In the few steps it takes to get us there, he has my bra unhooked. He lays me down with more finesse than I expected, pulling my strapless away from my body, tossing it on the floor.

  He leans down with determined swiftness and lavishes my breast. I can’t hold back the moan that escapes as it’s been way too long since they’ve gotten any attention. Minutes later, he makes his way down my body, over my quivering stomach before finally stopping at my panty line.

  He must sense me watching him because, as he stops, he looks up and grins. “I’ve thought about this moment many, many times.”

  “Oh yeah?” I blush at the thought of him having fantasies about me.

  “Yes. I hope you don’t mind if I take my time.” His eyebrow quirks in challenge.

  “When did you become such a gentleman?” I giggle.

  “Baby, I’ve always been a gentleman.” His smile is so bright when he winks that I nearly swoon instead of rolling my eyes. Cheesy lines have always been for the birds until now.

  “Just get on with it. The suspense is killing me,” I joke but I really may die if I have to wait any longer to feel that warm, attentive tongue of his.

  With a smirk, he pulls my undies down my legs then tosses them on the floor with my bra.

  True to his word, Jake takes his time with lazy kisses and drawn-,out licks. He pushes me to the edge only to pull me back, over and over again. A game that only he’s playing, yet one I’m enjoying. Finally, he lets me break apart on his tongue.

  Allowing me several gratifying breaths, he pushes up from the bed and pulls his wallet from his back pocket, grabbing a condom. He tosses his wallet on the nightstand nearby and steps out of his pants taking his briefs with them.

  He’s utterly magnificent and I’m speechless. All hard lines and smooth skin, yet soft to the touch. There isn’t a single inch of him that isn’t perfect. I’ll have to spend more time in the gym to even the playing field a little.

  I'm lost in my perusal of his flawless body when the sound of a rip of foil draws my eyes to the girth between his legs. He rolls on the condom then grins as he crawls up my body.

  “You like what you see?” His voice is gruff.

  I’m so ready for him that just the sound of his voice causes me to shiver. On autopilot, my hands lift to him and I run my fingertips over his now cooled skin. “Very much.” My body is clearly acting on its own as my legs spread to make room for his hips. I bite my lip as I feel him line himself up with my center. My breath catches in my throat. I don’t breathe again until he pushes into me and both of us are gasping for breath.

  He feels so right. A perfect fit.

  Moving together, we fall into a natural rhythm. A rhythm that is comfortable and familiar but at the same time also new and exciting. When I start seeing stars, he presses his mouth to mine, kissing me through my orgasm. The act draws out my pleasure as his body tenses over mine. He presses his forehead to my shoulder and finds his own release.

  At that moment, I feel the need for him take root in my heart, in every way. Like his soul has merged with mine, this thing between us far from done.

  The sounds of our heavy breaths fill the room as I slowly ease the grip I have on his back.

  As I do, he leans up, looking down at me. His gives me a soft smile then leans in and kisses my nose. “That was …” He trails off, maybe all his words were lost with my own.

  “Amazing?” I offer.

  He thinks about it, tapping his chin.

  “The best sex you’ve ever had?” Trying again.

  “Meh, it was alright.” The jerk shrugs.

  “Hey! Be nice!” I push at him as I fake pout, fighting back a giggle. He laughs and rolls us over and pulls me into his side.

  “I was.” He’s still laughing as I snuggle into his side, resting my head on his shoulder.

  He draws lazy circles over my naked shoulder, his other hand under his head.

  “So, if Becca knows about the money, do your other friends?” He’s casual, but I know there’s something more in his tone.

  “Becca’s the only person from my old life that’s not family who I’m still in contact with. As for my new friends, it’s not that they don’t know, but I’ve never talked to them about it. Besides the fact that I live here, I don’t live like I have all the money in the world. Plus, I really don’t have a lot of friends outside of work.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. It’s always been hard for me to make friends. To even date for that matter.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Silly boy. Because of the stupid money.” I dig a finger into his side. He reacts by twitching and grabbing my hand. Someone’s ticklish.

  “If money buys happiness, doesn’t it buy friends?” He doesn’t let go of my hand, but plasters it to his chest, covering it with his own.

  I snort. “Money absolutely doesn’t buy happiness if you're already lonely. When you live the high-society lifestyle, it’s hard to find friends that are the real deal. I was lucky to find Bex at such a young age, but usually the friends you make in those kinds of social circles are really only friends by association.”

  “Uh.” I can tell he’s trying to wrap his head around my explanation.

  “Remember that show from several years ago, Gossip Girl?” I hated the show, mostly because it was way too close to the life I was living and hated. No, I obsessed over shows like Smallville and Gilmore Girls. Shows from small towns that featured loving parents and supportive friends. Not absent parents and backstabbing socialites.

  “Yeah, caught my brother, Kevin, watching it a few times.” He chuckles.

  “I bet you had fun with that.” I smile, this conversation is so easy with him despite the topic.

  “Hell yeah, I did.”

  “Well, that show … that was what real life was like for me. Having a group of friends but knowing in a heartbeat that they’d all turn their back on you at any moment. You never know who your true friends are until the shit hits the fan.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a great life.”

  “It isn’t when you don’t spend your days gossiping and spending Mommy and Daddy’s money. Neither of those things interested me. Don�
��t get me wrong, I love shopping. And I didn’t mind having unlimited funds, but I also knew that I would give it up in a second if that meant that I could start making my own life decisions. What extracurricular activities to be involved in, what colleges I would apply to, even though one had already been chosen for me.”

  “I get it. You had the world at your fingertips, but it wasn’t yours to do with how you pleased.”

  Yes, he finally does get it.

  “Exactly. Once I hit eighteen, I started defying my dad’s decisions. He was not happy with me going to Cornell, but I told him I’d find a way to pay for it myself or I wasn’t going to any college. He couldn’t have that. Whichever son of some high-profile businessman I ended up marrying someday would expect a well-educated housewife. So, I got my college of choice. When I graduated, I told my dad I was done living by his rules. It didn’t go over well. It has been several years now and, as you can tell, things between my family and me aren’t easy. But I’m happy and not having a lot of money suits me. I’ve come to appreciate things. I still love to shop, but I’m on a strict budget.”

  I chuckle to myself about how I’d really love a bigger clothes budget.

  “You said dating is hard. Why?”

  “I never know if a guy is into me because of my name and the money they think I have, or if they are into just me.” Craig was the last guy I had a relationship with, but I’ve attempted to date since then. People recognize the King name and unless I change my name, I won’t ever be able to escape the legacy.

  “So, the fact that I clearly wasn’t interested in you because you had money made things easy for you?” His tone is light, but I know I need to tread carefully.

  I look up at him, to get a read on his expression. “My reputation couldn’t be worse in the world I come from. If you weren’t into me because of my money, then I knew you were safe.” It’s honest, and I hope it doesn’t piss him off. He nods once, staring up at the ceiling, taking it all in.