She’d had all that power, all that arrogant confidence buried deep inside her. She’d made him roar out with pleasure, made him cry out as he came…
Though her cheeks burned in response to those thoughts, she shoved them away, unprepared to deal with more horniness after an epic session of lovemaking with the man himself.
She nodded and stepped out of the elevator—the doors of which he’d held open with his body.
“Thank you,” she told him calmly, when her blood had started to race again.
His lips twitched. “You’re welcome, I guess. Although, I’m doing it for my benefit as much as yours.”
“I suppose.” She cut him a look. “I need to thank you again for what you did for me back there.” She gulped. “With Frank and Janice, I mean. Not the orgasm.”
His nostrils flared. “You’re welcome.” His eyelids grew heavy. “For both.”
She couldn’t stop her lips from curving in a smile, but she stepped ahead of him, nodding at the chauffeur as he saw her approach and moved to open the door for her to climb into the back of the car.
Erin was there with a book, a coloring pad, as well as her iPad. As far as she could tell, no reading or coloring had been done. She immediately dove toward him to kiss his cheek, then sneaked the iPad away from his sweaty little fingers.
“What have you been up to, kiddo?” she asked cheerfully, putting the tablet in her bag.
Though his bottom lip popped out, she merely cocked a brow at him as though daring him to have a tantrum. He huffed. “I was playing a game.”
Josh climbed in beside her. Even if the car had jolted with the addition of his weight, and even if the chauffeur hadn’t closed the door behind her, she’d have known he was there.
Out of nowhere, the air around her turned spicy with musk, and her body came to life in a way it had always been pretty dead before.
She turned to look at him but saw he was on his phone. Though she gnawed at her lip a little, she decided to brazen this out. If she tried to chat to him, he might think she was trying to soften him up, or he might think she was chasing him.
And while that was the best sex she’d had in her life, Samantha Garrett would chase no man. Ever again.
For that reason, she allowed the silence to carry on throughout the ride out of the city center and toward the Upper East Side where her small home was based. As they approached, she felt the change in the traffic, saw the difference in pedestrians as the people on the streets evolved from a broad spectrum of society—anything from a priest walking side by side to a punk rocker—to a more elegant kind of person…
She had to stay in the city, it had been her compromise although almost everyone in the area was stuck up beyond belief.
Erin chattered on at her side, and she gave him short answers that seemed to satisfy him—he’d been playing a game that had some story that thrilled him and bored her, but he was content to chirp away about it, and she was happy not to have to focus.
It was hard to concentrate on anything other than the man at her side, the man studiously ignoring her, and when her house came into view, she let out a short breath—relief to be out of the awkward situation filling her.
He’d made it awkward.
The dick, she thought.
She hadn’t wanted, nor had she needed, him to declare his undying love for her. Neither had she asked for him to make this false engagement of theirs real because they’d had one stupendously good round of sex…
He was acting like she had, though; but rather than mortify her, it angered her.
Made it so easy to open the door herself and usher Erin out onto the sidewalk. Moving behind her son, she bowed low so she could peer into the car, and when their eyes caught, she nodded. “I’ll see you around, Josh.”
His scowl came as a surprise, but before he could say a word, she slammed the door in his face and turned her back on him.
There would be no seeing him around. They traveled in different worlds. Had done, even when he’d been best friends with her husband.
No, that would be the last time she saw him without him seeking her out, and that was how it was going to be…
If there was a first move to be made, it was going to be on his part, not hers.
Chapter 12
Josh
Three weeks later.
As Josh did his nineteenth bicep curl, he grimaced as Ethan, his PA, gaped at his arms.
Ethan was definitely gay. Even though he’d never mentioned his sexuality, hadn’t discussed if he had a partner—male, female, or neither—Josh simply knew from how the man stared at him at moments like these.
If he wasn’t fucking awesome at his job, Josh would have gotten rid of him a long time ago. He didn’t give a shit about who the man fucked, but being gawped at while he was working out?
It was creepy.
Some might say he didn’t have to work out while his PA was in the vicinity… That was true. But as he trained, he dealt with business. Dictating emails in between sets, making calls or answering them as he took a breath.
To do so, he needed Ethan around. And when Ethan was around, Josh was very aware of every single bead of sweat, of every bulging vein in his limbs and on his forehead.
It was, truth be told, why, in the last year, he’d implemented a rigid sexual harassment policy in all his umbrella corporations, not just his head office.
Having come to learn what it was like to be hypersexualized by someone, there was no way he was allowing any of his staff to feel as uncomfortable as Josh felt in his PA’s presence at times like these.
When Ethan licked his lips, Josh grunted. “How long?”
“Until the meeting with Caracas?”
“Of course.”
“Twenty minutes.”
Josh nodded and moved around the corner where he climbed onto his treadmill for a cool down jog.
There was no need for the PA to follow, and he knew that, so he embraced the first bit of privacy he’d had since he’d warmed up.
Time was money in Josh’s life. There were very few moments where he wasn’t conducting some business or other, be it at a social event or at a meeting with a potential client. It was why he had a team of PAs, all under Ethan’s control, who managed certain aspects of his life.
As more sweat began to bead at his temples, he wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist as he felt his heart start to slow down.
“Sir? It’s Jasmine on the phone.”
Josh grimaced. “Tell her I’m busy.”
“I told her that last time, sir. She’s getting insistent.”
“Tell her I don’t appreciate someone insisting on my attention,” he growled out, uncaring if Ethan had muted the microphone or not and if his girlfriend of a few months had overheard.
Well, he said girlfriend, but she was more arm candy.
He’d slept with her a handful of times at the beginning of the relationship, then the situation with Samantha had developed and as he was supposed to be engaged to her, his time with Jasmine hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of his mind.
The only purpose for arm candy was to show them off at events. When he couldn’t show off anyone other than his so-called fiancée, then there wasn’t much he could do other than attend alone.
Or, he supposed, ask Samantha to join with him.
The thought deserved more attention, and he narrowed his eyes at the digits in front of him that counted down the length of his cool down. He heard Ethan murmuring into the phone, then, when there was silence, he climbed off the treadmill, grabbed a towel and dabbed at his sweaty forehead.
“It’s time for a gift from Jacobsons’ for Jasmine,” he intoned smoothly as he rounded the corner and faced his assistant once more.
“I thought as much, sir. I’ve arranged for an appointment tomorrow. Any preference?”
“No more than twenty thousand,” he answered, throwing the sweaty towel in the hamper at the other end of the room and scoring a hit. Rubbing the bac
k of his neck, he murmured, “The Anderson party tonight… it was with a plus one, wasn’t it?”
Ethan frowned as he scrolled through some information on the screen of his tablet. “Yes, sir. But then, most evening events are. You’ve been attending them alone recently though…”
“Is that a question or a statement?” Josh asked silkily, shooting the man a narrow-eyed stare.
Ethan gulped. “Just something that occurred to me, sir.”
Though he cocked a brow at Ethan, he dismissed his remarks as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed out on his way to the shower room.
“I’ll be out in five minutes. Confirm with the Andersons I’ll be attending with a guest.”
“Would you like me to call someone to invite them?”
“No. This has to be handled personally.”
“Personally?” If the man’s deep baritone could squeak, then Ethan accomplished it then.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Josh growled, annoyed at being questioned. Again.
“No, sir. It’s just…” He licked his lips. “Well, very unusual.”
Peeved, he jerked his chin up in dismissal and headed for the shower. As he washed away the grime from his workout, he silently asked anyone who was listening to teach Ethan better self-control.
He’d hate to have to fire the idiot…
The man was far too good at his job for Josh to be happy about losing him. The reason he was putting up with being ogled, was Ethan had the same kind of verve Josh himself did. On top of that, he didn’t mind how many hours he worked, didn’t seem to care about having no home life, and really was only concerned with his pay packet at the end of the week.
Josh rewarded good work, loyalty, and dedication. It went against the grain to fire a man or to caution him simply because he was being far too curious about things that were of no concern to him.
As he climbed into the shower and washed himself off, he tried not to think about Ethan anymore. It was too damn creepy.
Instead, he thought about Samantha, and found, to his irritation, that his cock immediately hardened.
He hadn’t seen her since that day.
He refused to feel guilty about it. Refused to feel badly about pulling out of her and literally pulling away at the same time. But she’d thrown him a curveball by singlehandedly gifting him the best sex he’d ever had in his fucking life, and afterward, when he’d realized what he’d done, he’d been too punch drunk to even begin to think about making it right with her.
Now, he felt awkward about approaching her, but if they were to maintain the façade of their engagement for a little while longer—until Frank and Janice were more averse to the idea of attacking Samantha’s right for custody again, though, they had signed an agreement promising they’d play nice—then they had to be seen together in public at some point.
At least, that was what he told himself as he grabbed his cock and began to jack off. With the water pounding overhead, he tried not to think about the tight clutch of her pussy around his shaft. Tried to forget about her clinging wet walls as she squeezed him to death when she came…
No, it was impossible to do away with those thoughts.
It was too hard, because she was right there.
At the forefront of his mind. Making his hand move faster as his imagination went to work, as he imagined her hand on him, her tongue tasting the beads of pre-cum that were gathering at the tip of his shaft. He imagined her on her hands and knees in front of him, with the water making her eyelashes spiky as she stared up at him, her hair a swathe of wet silk curling about her shoulders in a cascade he wanted to knot his fingers in.
Fuck, how could he think of anything else?
She’d been driving him crazy and she hadn’t even called him. Not once.
Even though he discouraged his girlfriends from contacting him, preferring for it to be the other way around, it happened. Case in point with Jasmine.
But Samantha hadn’t.
Not once.
Not even when he’d had some papers sent around from the family law attorney he’d hired on her behalf.
It wasn’t that he wanted her to be grateful, it was that… what?
He wanted her to feel beholden?
No. That didn’t fit, and even his hard-on agreed as it started to wilt at the thought.
“I wanted her to call,” he admitted to himself quietly, with the water pounding down over his head. “Why didn’t she damn well call?”
He glowered down at his cock, but thoughts of Samantha kept it hard enough that the scowl didn’t affect it. Then, he thought about the sulky purse of her mouth, the tightening as she’d shown her irritation at him pulling away as though she were fucking diseased…
He cringed at the memory, but moved his hand slowly, imagining that sulky pout as she sucked him off. Punishing him with her lips, teasing him with her tongue. He imagined her staring deep into his eyes as she took him to a whole other level. She’d done it that day, why shouldn’t she rock his world again?
And again, and again?
He gulped, tipped his head forward as he rested one hand against the shower wall. Beneath his palm, the tile was smooth and cold, not silky and warm as her cheek would be if he cupped it. He imagined that; caressing her cheek, feeling the shape of his glans through the thin membrane, making her take his fingers too, stuffing her lips to the max.
Like that, his cock spurted its load. Just the notion of filling her, of rocking her world blew out his brains.
With rough, sharp pants, he grabbed a tight hold of his shaft and in short, brisk jerks rubbed out the rest of his arousal.
The release sank down into the drain along with his sweat, and as he watched it go, he stared down at it bitterly.
It was, he knew, his fault that he was jacking off more than he’d done since he was a teenager. It was his fault she wasn’t here, in this goddamn shower with him, her legs around his hips, her back against the wall as he pounded into her…
When his cock twitched again, he forced himself to calm down and to think of anything other than her.
His reaction times where she was concerned were getting beyond a joke.
He grunted, annoyed at himself and at the situation, then he tilted his head back and let the hot water flow over him. Wriggling his shoulders, he grabbed the soap once more and washed up.
Cutting off the water when he was clean, he sluiced off the excess then reached for a towel and dried off. Heading out of the cubicle, he started to reach for his clothes—the fresh suit that Ethan had laid out for him earlier—and began to dress.
Normally, at these moments, he turned his mind to thoughts of the next meeting, his current deal, or something that was causing him a headache—a work conundrum.
But all he could think of was Samantha, and that, getting back into her good graces wouldn’t be solved by a trip to Jacobsons’….
No, it would be far more expensive than that.
Chapter 13
Samantha
“You didn’t.”
Samantha covered her hands over her face in an attempt to hide from Jessica who was gaping at her like a hungry goldfish. “I did.”
Her friend wafted her hands away. “Don’t hide. You did the crime now you’ve got to do the time.”
She grimaced. “Do you have to make it sound so penal?”
Jessica snickered. “I’m gonna let you rethink that question.”
She rolled her lips inwards. “Criminal. That sounds less like cock, right?”
“Just a little,” was the snickered retort. “Anyway, I need details.”
“I thought you were going to make me feel a hell of a lot worse about myself before I split with the details. That’s why I’ve taken so long to tell you.” She eyed Jessica with a suspicion that belonged to a cop studying a drug dealer. “What gives?”
Jessica began rubbing down the counter. “Nothing.”
“You might as well start whistling if you’re trying to l
ook innocent. What. Gives?” she repeated.
“Well, he’s really cute. You can’t deny it.”
“I’m not going to bother. I just tapped that,” she said grimly. “Cute doesn’t cut it anymore.”
“And that’s why I need the details. All the details. Every single last one of them. That man is fine, and I need to know if the advertisement matches up to the product.”
Samantha snorted. “You’re a pervert.”
“I am not! I’m just genuinely curious about my friend’s sex life, when that friend hasn’t had sex since her husband died, and then when she does, she has it with Joshua freakin’ Lewis! I mean, damn girl. That’s some ass to tap!”
Wincing, Samantha reached for the cookie she had no idea why she’d ordered and began to crumble it into little pieces as Jessica started cleaning the coffee machine. When the hissing and spitting died down, she knew Jessica had given her about as much time as she was going to allot, so she bit her lip and tried to figure out where her brain was.
It wasn’t where she’d thought it would be the first time she had sex with a guy after her husband, that’s for sure.
“You look pensive. Was it that bad?”
She snorted. “It was that good.”
Jessica quirked a brow. “Better than Jamie?”
“You didn’t just ask me that, did you?” She pulled a face.
“I did. Because you’re looking really weird and I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with you. In the space of no time at all, you’ve gone from loathing the guy, asking him for help, getting into a fake engagement to him, then sleeping with him! That’s weird.”
“Not for some women,” she grumbled.
“Yeah. You’re not some women. I totally know you were a virgin when you and Jamie started out. You have that look about you.”
“What look? Do I have ‘dork’ taped to my forehead?”
Jessica snickered. “Maybe. But, if you did, it’s gone now.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because you looked like someone who’d only ever had a certain type of sex. Now, you know there’s a difference.”
For a second, stillness overcame Samantha. Then she sucked down a sharp breath because Jessica’s words totally hit home.
Believing Her: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Romance Page 10