by Lindsey Hart
“It sure as hell should have. Even I had that, and I didn’t even deserve to graduate, since I skipped school all the time, fought like a banshee and flipped off more than one teacher.”
“You flipped off your teachers?” Ash’s eyes were round as saucers, but she giggled like a little kid. She laughed so hard, but kind of silently so that it wasn’t obvious, that her nostrils flared. Even that was beautiful.
“Yup. The bastards had it coming.” Trace slowly withdrew his hand and Ash stared at her fingers as though something magical just happened. Like suddenly there was fifteen of them instead of just five.
“I have one more thing to confess,” she said quietly. She tugged her hand back into her lap. She studied it and refused to meet his gaze.
“What’s that?” Please don’t tell me you’re secretly a dude. Please, please, please…
“So- I work at this tiny comic book shop. I told you that, I think.”
“Yes.”
“Well- it’s not nearly enough to make ends meet. So, I- well, you said I should be a writer earlier. I guess I have to confess that maybe I am. And maybe my classmates know it too. I actually write paranormal romance. Where the bad guys win, more often than not. Actually, no it’s more like the bad guys discover that they have some good in them and that they can be redeemed and are lovable. They’re complex, like every villain. They’ve been through all this heartbreak, had some terrible past and that broke them. The heroine comes and puts them back together. Anyway, I may have made the mistake of writing them under my own name when I started. I- I thought nothing would come of it. I just decided, on a whim, to publish a book to this free site and then it took off and I kind of started selling lots of them. Like lots of copies of lots of books. I’ve published over forty in five years and uh- okay. So, this is the real reason I need you to come with me. My hometown knows that I’m a successful romance author. It’s going to be completely humiliating to show up single.”
Okay, so that was news. Not only was Ash smoking hot and clearly confident enough when it didn’t come to thoughts of her reunion, or the mother she mentioned, she was successful in her own right.
Damn. His balls just pulled so far up they were in his throat.
“I don’t get it,” Trace admitted. “What’s wrong with showing up single as a confident, sexy, woman who was her shit together?”
“Because!” Ash leaned forward, her sparkling emerald eyes pleading with him to understand. “I’m a successful romance writer. I have won the hearts of millions of readers, but I haven’t been able to give mine away. I’m a romance writer who has never fallen in love. My characters confront their demons and overcome their fears, but I can’t do that in my own life. Do you understand now…”
Trace frowned. “Would be bad to admit that I didn’t? I mean, you’re young, sexy, confident, and successful. What’s wrong with being a single, empowered woman and being happy with that?”
Ash’s lips trembled as she made a valiant effort not to cry again, but she lost. A single tear traced its way down her cheek when she blinked. He wanted to lean in and kiss it away before he devoured her lips and battled her sorrow for her, but again, he forced his ass to remain in that seat.
“I’m- I’m scared they’re going to tear me apart. That they’re going to see right through me. It’s easy for me now, to be who I am here with you, when it’s safe. I’m not going to be able to do it when I’m back there, transformed into a girl no one would go to prom with. I- I just can’t do it.”
Ash looked up at him and his heart stopped. He suddenly realized what she meant. It was easy for him too, to sit there as the man he was, with power and wealth at his disposal- well… no. He was actually pretending, with his beard and longer hair and his online profile, to be someone else. To hide from that man as well. He wasn’t afraid of it though, he just needed a damn break. That was different.
He totally understood what Ash was talking about. The thought of going back to being that little kid with the tattered clothes and shoes filled with holes and mustard sandwiches scared the hell out of him. He’d fought so hard, all his life, to not be that kid.
He swallowed hard and forced what he hoped was a dazzling smile. It must have been, because Ash responded instantly. She wiped away her tears and sat up a little straighter. Her watery smile echoed his. They were both there, both lost, in a way. Both trying to find something in each other.
Fake boyfriend or not, the underlying sentiment was anything but.
“It’s okay.” He set his hand face up on the table and after a moment’s hesitation, Ash slowly entwined her fingers with his. He’d be a liar if he said that his cock wasn’t affected by her touch, and he’d sure as hell be a liar if he said there wasn’t an uncomfortable squeeze going on in his rib cage. “I get it. I’m not going to let them sink your beautiful ship. No way. We’re going to show up to that damn reunion, guns blazing. It’s them who are going straight to the bottom of the ocean if they think they can take us on and win.” He shot her his best panty dropping smile before he remembered he didn’t have to charm her. She’d come to him. Out of all the men out there, she’d picked him.
“Alright.” She left her hand in his and slowly her smile grew more confident until her eyes shone again. He vowed then and there that he’d damn well make sure that no one ever, ever robbed that sparkle from Ash again. “Uh- but can I please introduce you as Mr. Nightshadow, at least to my mother?”
“Not a chance,” he laughed. “But you can let me take you out tomorrow night for dinner so that we can get to know each other. I think we have a few things we need to get nailed down before the weekend.”
There was that trace of hesitation again, and surprise that he hated to see, as though she couldn’t really believe he was real and that what they were doing was real- neither could he, but for a whole different set of reasons.
“Yeah,” she finally agreed in the softest, most feminine voice possible. It did all kinds of inappropriate things to his neither region. “Dinner tomorrow. I’m free at six.”
“Make it seven and I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay.” She withdrew her hand from his and stood slowly.
He watched her walk out of the coffee shop, hips swaying gently with her stride. He was right. She did have a great ass. A phenomenal ass.
He had his work cut out for him, but he couldn’t remember the last time the prospect had ever seemed so fun.
The hesitant, unconfident, shy, doubtful Ash was going to be long gone by the time the weekend rolled around. He’d do his best to show her that she was indeed sexy in every way possible. That she was beautiful, all woman, smart as hell, brave, successful, and that she could indeed kick some serious ex-classmate ass.
CHAPTER 7
Ash
Somehow over the course of thirty-six hours, her life had done a completely one-eighty.
At seven on a Monday night, she was usually already in her pajamas, cuddled up with her laptop, Slappy snoozing either on her legs or off to the side, a cup of tea, maybe even a sappy movie on in the background, creating some killer romance for her characters. Sometimes literally. The paranormal genre was exciting to write in. There was all sorts of murder and mayhem.
God, it’s official. I’m a total dork.
That was, until Mr. Nightshadow happened into her life. One message later and BAM! Like literally, speech bubble, comic style, BAM, huge red and yellow letters and all, she was sitting in the booth at the back of a fancy restaurant with a guy who was walking, breathing, living, sex.
And he was her boyfriend for the next week.
She’d never wished she had the power to stop time more than she did at the moment. Or maybe it was somehow possible that she could have a time machine invented in the near future so that she could relive what was sure to be the best week of her life over and over and over again.
“Do you know what you’re going to have yet?”
Ash set down her menu, flustered. She hadn’t read a single
thing. She knew she was blushing. She’d put on makeup for her date, picked out a nice little black dress- yes she actually owned one- out of her closet, and worn sensible flats so she didn’t tumble down the stairs of her apartment on her way to her first real, well, kind of real, date in over a year. She didn’t often wear makeup, but she hoped that the foundation and blush went a little way to hide her tendency to turn completely red, compliments of having fair skin and light hair.
“Uh- what’s good. I mean, you said this place was good. You’ve probably been here before. Do you have anything that you’d recommend?”
“Chicken. Or ham. Unicorn poop?”
“What?” She slapped the menu down.
“Just checking to see if you were actually paying attention. I know you didn’t read a word on this menu.” Trace’s mouth curled into a confident, sly smile. Which of course was absolutely sinful. And yes, she’d worn panties under her dress. And yes, they were currently on their way to combusting. And yes, her hoo-ha might be trying hard to put out that fire.
“Well- honestly, it’s hard to concentrate with you sitting there watching me the whole time,” she admitted. God, it was another one of her failings. Her tendency to be completely blunt and say whatever was on her mind.
Trace laughed. She liked the deep, sexy sound of it. Her entire body liked it. She had to pretend that her nipples didn’t just pebble at the sound of it. Or maybe that was because Trace’s wonderful scent kept drifting across the table to her. Or maybe it was because he’d worn a black dress shirt with black jeans and damn, black was definitely the man’s color.
Maybe it was because she still thought of him as Mr. Nightshadow. Sex incarnate. Okay, she’d tacked that last part on when he’d picked her up in a sleek black sports car looking and smelling like… well- sex come to life.
“Good. I like that. I like that you’re distracted. If we’re attracted to each other, that means we won’t have to act.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward, and her panties melted off under the table. “I promise by the end of this week, we won’t be acting at all.”
“What- what do you mean,” she panted. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“I mean, you wanted a boyfriend for the week, you got one.”
“I wanted a fake boyfriend for my reunion.”
Trace shook his head, all sexy confidence and quick charm. And god, it was working, because she was melting slowly in her chair, until all that would be left was a puddle of her former self. How dignified.
“Well, you got me. And to sell those asshats that you’re worried about, we have to be on the same page, and I don’t think fake is going to cut it. Plus, I have this sneaking suspicion that you have no idea how beautiful and incredible you really are.”
“And you plan on what? Showing me?” Ash’s mouth dropped open.
Trace nodded slowly and then he smiled that wicked smile. She nearly let out a groan of sheer pent up sexual frustration when she realized that he had a dimple on his right cheek. Fuuuuccckkkkk me.
That was what he was suggesting, she realized. She’d seen other men look at other women that way. Like they were imagining them naked. She’d just never really had a man look at her that way. Then again, she had spent the past ten years of her life working at a comic book store, where the men who came in there were more excited about the newest comics and board games than they were about the girl who worked there.
Not that she blamed them one bit.
She was absolutely the same way.
“I- so you really- uh- shouldn’t we have some ground rules? Isn’t that inappropriate?”
“What? Having a mutually beneficial physical relationship where both parties give and receive pleasure? I don’t see how it’s at all wrong. We’re both adults. We both know what we want.”
“Uh- do we?”
“We both have a common goal in mind.” Trace continued like he hadn’t even heard her. “My goal is for you to walk into that reunion and for the whole place to see you as I do. Including yourself. I think you need a little… convincing. And what’s the problem with us having a little fun so that we don’t have to act? If the whole thing falls flat at the reunion and it’s obvious that it’s fake, that’s not going to do you any good. It’s going to make things a whole lot worse.”
Ash pursed her lips. “So really, you’re just… well, this is actually about business, in a way.”
“We don’t have a business agreement.” Trace shrugged. “So, we met in an unorthodox way? Big deal. I’m open to a physical relationship if you are. I think it will help, but also and more important, I think you’d enjoy it.”
“I- I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her vagina had other ideas. Currently said member was doing a pissed off, finger waving, screaming tantrum at her. Oh my god why don’t I just say yes already? Oh right. Probably because he’s the kind of guy who ruins you for sex forever.
“Why not?” Trace slid the menu away from her. “I’ll order for you. If you like what I order, then you have to trust me. After dinner, instead of just driving you back home and dropping you off after grilling you about details from your past so I don’t fuck up when it counts, I’ll come in with you. I’ll follow you up to your apartment and I’ll give you a taste of what’s possible. If you like that, then I’ll give you more. How is that for a compromise? Because we might have met because you needed a fake boyfriend, but how does that have to stop us from having some consensual fun that you look to be in dire need of?”
“Because- well… what if it doesn’t work out and the whole thing blows up at me and then I’m forced to go alone to the reunion because you don’t like the taste of my pussy or something.”
Trace froze. She froze. The silence that filled the space between them was so damn large she could park an entire fleet of busses in it.
And then, amazingly enough, Trace began to laugh. It was one of those silent laughs, the kind that was so violent it gripped you in the middle and squeezed the breath right out of you. Your shoulders shook and tears popped into your eyes, but there was no sound.
She laughed too, completely astonished and mortified she’d just said the word pussy out loud, let alone in that complete sentence.
“Trust me,” Trace shot her a sinful, panty melting, ovary combusting look when he was done laughing. “That would never happen.”
“You don’t know.” Why am I protesting here?
He levelled a much darker, devilish look at her. “Darling, I really do.” He cut off any further protest by grabbing the menu as their server, a young woman in a white shirt and black pants ensemble, just happened to amble on over to their table.
“We’ll both have the shrimp and mussels in the white wine sauce with fettuccini. And a bottle of white wine, whatever pairing you think best. Also, a shot of whisky for the lady.” He winked at the young woman, who went all gaga and nearly dropped her pad of paper.
“You’re the worst,” Ash hissed as soon as the poor woman left. “Look what you did to her.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about her. Tonight, I’m all yours.”
She stuck out her lip in a mock pout. “You’re mine for the week. Don’t forget that, Mr. Nightshadow.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Why would I? It’s hot.” Oh god. I need to learn to shut the hell up.
Trace, like a gentleman, inclined his head, ceding the point. The bastard looked so sexy, Ash would have done anything in that moment if he asked her too. God, she found herself wishing she could skip dinner altogether and just get back to her apartment.
Which was just… wrong, wasn’t it?
Research. That’s all it was. She’d use it for her books. Yes, if she could justify what they were doing to herself in some useful way, then it was alright. It was… doable. Even for her. Sex she was pretty sure she sucked at. Men she was terrible with. Relationship wasn’t even a word that was in her vocabulary, but research… h
eck, she slayed research. She was willing to embarrass herself at her complete lack of sexual prowess just because Trace Nightshadow, omg seriously… looked at her with those dreamy eyes and his sinful mouth.
As if he knew exactly what he was doing, probably because he very well did, Trace slowly licked his tongue over his bottom lip.
Ash wanted a fake boyfriend. What she got was something else entirely. She became increasingly aware that she’d be very lucky if she made it out of the night alive.
CHAPTER 8
Trace
He couldn’t believe it. He’d somehow redirected the night into a much steamier, sexier ending than he’d imagined. He’d driven them back to Ash’s apartment and she’d asked him, with a scalding, smoldering look, to come up with her. Because he was a gentleman, he hadn’t refused her request. He had teaching to do after all. He had to prove to her that she was the sexy, confident, amazing woman he knew her to be. He had to make her believe it.
Ash dug in her purse, trying to produce her key. She was adorable, fumbling around, all thumbs, a blush already riding high on her cheekbones. He couldn’t help himself. He had to take her hand in his, a hand that now held her keys tightly. He twined his fingers through hers and took the key. He threaded it through the lock with ease and turned until the deadbolt slid open.
He gripped the handle and easily opened the door. He wrapped his freehand around Ash and hauled her up against him. He shut the door and pressed her up against it. She tipped her chin, dropped her purse, and let out a raspy breath she’d obviously been holding.
She was so beautiful it hurt. Wearing that skin tight dress, the curve of her breasts and ass defined tastefully, her long, shapely legs on display. She’d tempted him all night and not because she was playing at anything or trying. He’d been hard before he even got to her apartment, just imagining what she’d look like for their date.
She hadn’t disappointed.