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Faking for Her

Page 5

by Roberts, Emma

“That’s none of your business.” Her flat, cold tone stunned me.

  Once more, I reevaluated what I’d said. Had I been offensive in some way? No, I’d asked her a simple question. Had she seen through my attempt to divert attention from her hatefulness? Or was she mad at me for being nice when her go-to was poking at me with mean-spirited comments?

  While I stared into her angry emerald eyes, trying to figure out what I’d done to make her react this way, Dad walked back in and closed the sliding door behind him.

  He glanced from my mother to my sister, to me, then sighed. Without a word, he gathered up the marinade and grilling tools before letting us know he’d be outside with the food. I braced for the inevitable follow-up I remembered so well from my childhood. He’d make some remark about being surrounded by women before disappearing out the door. Then my mother and sister’s anger would focus on me. One of them would thank me for driving him away, and the other would jump in to dog-pile me.

  I wasn’t disappointed.

  “Women.” My dad shook his head as he closed the door behind him.

  Two sets of green eyes glared at me like I was something left behind after a rogue dog with digestive problems had run through the house.

  “Thanks.” Cadence frowned at me. “It’s not like I want to spend time with my dad, anyway. So please, chase him off.”

  Her sarcasm rolled right off me. I was reasonably certain I wasn’t the only “woman” in the room.

  “Can’t you please just get along with everyone?” My mother straightened from where she’d been leaning against the counter.

  Maybe I’d been switched at birth. There had to be something that would explain why I so spectacularly failed at being a member of this family.

  I didn’t know why I ever answered their summons for these dinners.

  “I’m going outside.” I headed for the door to follow my father, but my mother stepped in front of me and blocked my escape.

  I stared her, unsure what she expected.

  “Why don’t you apologize to your sister?” The words were intoned in a question, but my mother wasn’t asking. It was a demand.

  I had no idea what I was supposed to be apologizing for, but I also knew that asking for the reason would only make things worse.

  How childish was it for my mother to demand that I apologize to my twenty-year-old sister when I’d only been avoiding an uncomfortable confrontation?

  I gritted my teeth and met Cadence’s steady, triumphant gaze. I had two choices. I could pick up my purse and walk out the door, or apologize and get through this dinner and back home.

  The old, timeworn routine won. “I’m sorry.”

  I would have believed my words if I had heard them come from someone else. I’d become a good actor, living here for eighteen years. Giving in was worth it to keep the peace. At least, that’s what I’d been telling myself for all of my twenty-four years. Fighting wasn’t something I enjoyed. I was about as nonconfrontational as a person could be. Most of the time, at least.

  I thought back on the ongoing argument I’d had with Cole. That was different. Cole wasn’t family. He didn’t have the power to make me miserable like my mother and sister did. And I kind of enjoyed fighting with him.

  “I don’t know that I believe you.” Cadence crossed her arms.

  My mother sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “You know, if you didn’t want to come home for this family occasion, you could have said so.”

  I knew that was a load of crap. If I’d refused to come home, I would never have heard the end of it. That guilt trip would have followed me to an early grave, and the cause of death on my death certificate would have been marked “guilt-tripped and nagged to death.”

  “I came because I wanted to. I don’t want to cause any problems.” I pushed through the sliding glass door, steeling myself for the next snide comment.

  Cadence wasn’t to blame. She was a product of my parents treating her like a queen. She could do no wrong growing up, but I sure could. No wonder she thought she was better than me; all she ever saw were my mother’s perceived flaws about me.

  I was only twenty-four! Too young for kids, too young to get married. I needed to find my place in this world before attaching myself to a man and making babies of my own. I needed to grow up more first.

  Grill fumes slapped me in the face as I stepped out onto the deck.

  “Smells good, Dad.” I smiled at him, even though he didn’t look up at me from the closed hood of the grill.

  The neatly trimmed backyard was a screaming green that burned into my retinas, and Mom’s perfect white hydrangeas were in full bloom. As usual, the yard was perfect. I’d never seen it otherwise. Dad kept every slice of green perfectly pruned, clipped, watered and cared for. The place had always looked like a freaking page out of a catalog.

  Dad lifted the hood of the grill and my mouth watered. He made a grunting noise, flipped the burgers and rolled the brats.

  “Dad…” It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize to him too. But why bother? Nobody heard me. I hadn’t actually done anything wrong that I knew of. I’d taken the high road. I’d been polite. I’d done everything right.

  “We just want what’s best for you.” He lowered the hood of the grill as I stared at him, my heart aching in my chest.

  I longed for something I knew they would never give me—their love and support, even though they didn’t think I was living my life the right way. It was my way. My life.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, my throat constricting. He wouldn’t like it if I cried. My dad was a good old boy who thought feelings were to be kept under lock and key.

  “Okay.” I nodded and angled myself toward the door. “I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?”

  He only grunted again, so I wandered back inside in search of a cool glass of water. My mother and sister were nowhere to be seen, and I breathed a sigh of relief before getting a drink.

  Why was this so hard? Family time was supposed to be relaxing and reconnecting. Not stressful and exhausting. Wasn’t I supposed to feel recharged and loved after spending time with them? So why did I feel drained and more stressed after five minutes here?

  I gulped down the water at the sink.

  “Was that vodka?” I almost choked at my sister’s overly loud voice.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Just water. It’s hot outside.” It had been warmer than usual for the coast this year, and while I liked the extra sunshine, I also wasn’t used to the heat.

  But Cadence wasn’t having any of it. “Mom! Laney is drinking!”

  “Isn’t she of age?” My sister’s fiancé stepped into the kitchen, pulled Cadence into his arms, and planted a kiss on her cheek before winking at me.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Dev was a nice guy, and I was glad he was here. How he’d wound up with my sister was a mystery to me, but I’d take what backup I could get.

  “Are you drinking?” My mother stepped into the room, a disappointed frown on her face.

  “Yeah, water.” I held up the glass.

  Without missing a beat, Dev grabbed the glass from me, held it up to his nose, sniffed it. Then he held it to Cadence’s nose.

  “Water. Not vodka.” He smiled and handed me back the glass while Cadence glared at me.

  While I appreciated the gesture, discomfort began to twist up my guts. Dev jumping on my side was only going to make things worse; I knew it.

  “You could do with more water drinking.” He poked Cadence’s nose playfully then pressed a kiss to her lips, like that would fix his words.

  I waited for her to yell at him, but she didn’t. I stood there, stunned, as she giggled and pulled him in for a kiss. If I’d told her that, she’d have taken my head clean off my shoulders.

  I took a deep breath. I’d get through this. It was just dinner, after all. I’d made it through a lot of dinners with my family. This one would be just fine too.
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  8

  Cole

  Laney bent over to pick up the bottle of wine I’d left at her door, her perfect ass pointed my direction.

  My cock strained against my jeans and I shifted in my truck’s seat.

  I’d decided to surprise her with the wine, mostly because I’d been an ass. But also because I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind. When I’d arrived, she didn’t answer the door, so I’d left the wine on the porch for her.

  I’d intended to just go, but when I was about to pull out of where I’d parked, one of her neighbors pulled up in front of my truck, boxing me in. They’d left their car running, leapt out of the driver’s seat and dashed into the apartment next to Laney’s place.

  Laney hadn’t noticed me when she pulled in and parked her little car.

  I sat in my truck, watching her read my note, and trying to decide if it would be awkward for me to approach her after I’d left it and wine on her doorstep. I knew what I wanted to do, and it included making use of her couch again.

  I sighed, staring at her apartment complex. It was built in a modern design—the long, low buildings were safer on the coastline than taller ones. The two-story building stretched down the block and had individual outdoor exits for each apartment.

  I didn’t know why I couldn’t stay the fuck away from her, but I couldn’t.

  After our confrontation on the beach, I’d taken my board out into the ocean and sat on it for a while, letting myself drift without direction at the whim of the ocean and wind. Then I’d gone home. Worked for hours. The patterns I’d come to rely on finally made themselves obvious. I’d invested in and sold other stocks. I’d followed that familiar feeling in my gut all day, and finally, when morning turned into afternoon, my stomach growled.

  While enjoying dinner, it had occurred to me that I knew when to listen to my body and trust my gut. I always followed that instinct. Except when it came to her. So I knew I should stay away. Knew that she would be trouble. But whatever drew me to her just wouldn’t quit.

  So I’d finished eating, grabbed a bottle of wine, and headed to her place.

  With the wine in one hand, the hastily scribbled note in the other, Laney looked around the parking lot. There was a limp set to her shoulders that bothered me. She tucked the note between her fingers and the wine bottle and pulled out her phone.

  I popped open my door at the same time that my phone rang and her eyes met mine. Embarrassed now about the gesture, I answered her call without breaking eye contact.

  “I’d love some company.” She sounded wiped out, almost too exhausted to keep her eyes open.

  “What if I get too close and make you feel sick?” I teased, echoing her words to me on the beach, but also offering her an out. As much as it might have sounded like a jab, I didn’t intend it as one.

  Her sudden intake of breath grabbed my attention. I wondered for a second if she was going to cry, because that gasp was the sound made just before a sob.

  “I just had dinner with the fam. Nothing you can do will top that.” Her tired laugh held no actual humor.

  My gut twisted up like a wrung-out rag and I swallowed hard. Now I knew why she looked so defeated. Her family had that effect on her. I should have recognized it right away.

  “Well, we need to make plans.” I locked my truck and shut the door.

  “Plans?” Her voice held a note of confusion.

  “Plans. How can I play a convincing fake boyfriend if I know nothing about you?” I swallowed back the anger I felt at her family for making her look like she’d been to war. I was pissed that they had so much power over her. That they hurt her so damn much. And maybe also a little mad that she let them walk all over her.

  I walked across the parking lot and down the sidewalk toward her.

  “I guess…you know what kind of wine I like.” There was a smile in her voice, and I wanted to see it on her lips.

  Reaching her, I laid my hands on her shoulders. “Everybody likes a good, expensive red wine.”

  Her lips twitched upward a little. “It’s expensive?” She glanced down at it like she was afraid she might drop it. “I just love dark red wines.”

  Leaning in, I silenced her by pressing my lips to hers. The second her arms slid around my shoulders, I wrapped her up in a tight hug. Her weight sagged into me and I held her steady as she clung to me like I was the best thing that had happened to her all day.

  My pulsed immediately tripped up two notches. Everything about her made me crazy. I wanted her more than I’d wanted any woman in my life.

  “Let’s go inside.”

  It was all the invitation I needed. Releasing her carefully, I followed her in the front door. Her hand slipped into mine and she pulled me inside and turned to face me.

  The desire for her I’d locked down tight the past few days broke loose. I grabbed her and spun her around, using her weight to close the door behind her. Planting my hands on either side of her head, I trapped her in place against the door. I could see her pulse thumping quickly in her throat as I leaned in close, locked eyes with her, and inhaled her sweet scent.

  “I swore I’d keep my hands to myself.”

  “You suck at that.” She quirked up one sculpted eyebrow.

  “I know. I’m not sorry.” I leaned in, taking her lips in a longer, deeper kiss. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  Her fingers found the hem of my shirt and she hauled it up over my head. It hit the floor at our feet as I helped her out of hers.

  Her creamy skin beckoned and her trim belly trembled as I ran my fingertips from her waist up to the edge of her bra. The way her breasts spilled over the cups just a little made my mouth water and I quickly unhooked it in the back. Springing free, her beautiful flesh demanded my lips and I bend forward to plant kisses on her collarbone before trailing downward. With impatient hands, I grabbed her ass and hauled her up into my arms, bringing her tits closer to my face so I could sample them.

  As I wrapped my lips around one already puckered nipple, she let out a shocked little squeal and clung to me with her thighs. I suckled her deeper into my mouth as her fingertips sliced through my hair. The sweet taste of her skin reminded me of a warm summer peach. I wanted more. Needed more.

  Slipping a hand between us, I unbuttoned her jeans. Her thighs tightening around mine in response made my cock leap. I lowered her feet to the floor, keeping one arm around her. Releasing her nipple, I kissed her lips as I shoved her pants and panties down over her hips and off with impatient hands. It only took a hint of her scent, and I wanted to taste her.

  Picking her up again, I carried her into the kitchen, in a mind to have a proper feast. Lowering her onto the counter, I stretched her legs wide and ducked my head between her thighs. The sweet taste of her filled my senses as I gave her one long lick from entrance to clit.

  She gasped, her hands reaching for me. Her fingers found my hair again as I settled on her little button. I was going to make her come, right here, right now.

  With every touch, her body warmed up and told me what to do—where to focus, how to please her. Her moans filled my ears and I followed her primal guidance, my cock straining painfully against my pants. I wanted to be inside her more than anything. I wanted to feel her stretch around me. Wanted to make her gasp with that sharp little intake of breath. Wanted to make her whimper as I filled her.

  I wanted all of her. Everything she was willing to give me.

  “Please, don’t stop.” She tossed her head back and forth, making the way she was panting even fucking hotter.

  I flicked my tongue over her clit in a rapid motion and she moaned. Finding her entrance with one finger, I plunged it inside her warmth. Then I gripped her hips as she tried to buck. The thought of her grinding herself on my face to push herself over the edge made my cock jump and throb painfully. But this was about her.

  I worked circles around her clit with my tongue, my fingertips digging into her hips. The scent of her filled my nose, her juices were like
nectar on my lips. I struggled for control. My whole being was screaming for me to shed my jeans and plunge into her.

  “I’m… I’m…” The buildup in her voice mirrored the sudden tension in her body.

  I didn’t ease up, even a little bit, as she began to tremble. Ripples rolled through her limbs as the muscles within her seized up and relaxed in an intoxicating rhythm that reflexively got my own hips moving. The flood of moisture on my chin satisfied my need to please her and I straightened up, gathered her in my arms, and carried her to her bedroom.

  Lowering her onto the bed, I shed my bottom layers. As I draped my body over hers, I claimed her mouth, even as my hips lined themselves up to her entrance.

  She put a hand on my shoulder, and pushed.

  With every fiber of my being, I wrestled for control over my raging hormones, forcing myself to move back.

  Her wide eyes were focused on mine as she whispered, “Protection.”

  That single word sent a shiver down my spine.

  Fuck. I’d never thought about it even until now. The first time, we’d been so fired up, we’d completely bypassed a condom. And now, I almost fucked her without protection. Again. What the hell was I thinking? Damn it, I’d never been so irresponsible. If she hadn’t stopped me, I’d have continued without a thought. She just felt so damn good, every bit of rationale left my body.

  She rolled onto her side, reaching for the nightstand, bringing out a little box and offering me a condom from it.

  An irrational flash of jealousy filled me. Who had she bought them for? Why did she need them?

  Just as quickly, I shoved the thoughts away. She was here with me now, I had no right to question who she’d been with before or who she’d be with after me. Still, that buzz of irritation clung as I covered myself.

  Petting her hair back from her face, I kissed her. Softly at first, then taking the kiss deeper, exploring her mouth with my tongue.

  “We agreed not to do this.” Her eyes were troubled and unsure beneath the haze of passion.

  I couldn’t help myself. She was an addiction. A necessity. I couldn’t deny it, but I sure as hell would try.

 

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