Faking It (UnReal #1)

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Faking It (UnReal #1) Page 15

by J. D. Hollyfield


  “She is your wife,” I bite back.

  “Only on paper. She won’t sign the goddamned papers.” He takes a step forward but I put my hand out to stop him.

  “I’m not done. And I want a real answer this time. Who was that guy at the gallery?"

  He bows his head, sighing. "His name is Parker Schillings. When I lived in France, I was young. Still trying to come to terms with my sudden success. I wasn’t always this closed off, but I still kept to myself. I’m not a man who is easily approachable, as I’m sure you have learned. One night while I was at the local pub, a woman approached me. I attempted to fend her off, because I wasn’t interested, but she continued to push and push until I gave her my attention.”

  “Was that Victoria?” I question, trying to put the pieces together.

  He lifts his head taking another labored breath. “Yes. I should have stuck to my initial gut feeling. There was always that doubt over why she sat with me that night. Pursued me so hard. Turns out, she had seen my name in the local paper. How I was the next up-and-coming. Either way, in the end, she was a good con artist. And I was lonely. I took her to bed once and then again. Before I knew it, she was a constant body in my bed.”

  This part of his story hurts. My chest tightens at the image of him being with Victoria. I know there were women before me, but to hear it still hurts.

  “Hey.” He enters my space, and palms my cheek. “Don’t go there. I don’t mean to tell you this to hurt you. I’m telling you to understand, okay?”

  I nod, unable to show any more emotion through my voice, so he continues, “You have to understand that at that time in my life I was very alone. But I wasn’t looking for love or a relationship. I let her in my bed because I needed something physical. That’s all I ever gave her.”

  His last comment triggers the memory of him telling me I deserve more than just something psychical.

  “Parker…” I whisper, because I am close to falling apart.

  “Parker and Victoria had been an item for years. She kept that little secret from me. I never met Parker until the night he came to my loft, threatening to kill me. You can imagine how shocked I was. Victoria had been lying to me as well as him. When I told you before that I took something from him, I did. But I was not lying when I said I didn’t know. She played us both. By this time, she had claimed the pregnancy, eliminating my choice to walk away.”

  I want to claw this bitch’s eyes out. How can someone be so ruthless with other people’s lives? Hunter looks at me, desperate to know what I’m thinking. He moves in closer, lifting his hands, pressing them against the wall on each side of my face. Leaning in, he presses his forehead to mine.

  “I need you to know that there was never a moment I looked at her and imagined a life past the bedroom. I have never imagined myself with one person for the rest of my life. A life with love, a family. Not like I do when I imagine it with you.”

  I inhale a startled breath. His confession catches me off guard. “You’ve done something to me, Lexi. Woken me up. Given me life. I was never truly living, and the moment I set eyes on you I felt it. The pull. The urge to take you and make you completely mine. “

  A layer of goosebumps spread across my now trembling skin. “Why are you saying all this Hunter?” I choke.

  “Because, I told you before, I’m in love with you. Call me foolish, but I felt it the second I sat down next to you at that bar. I didn’t even need to know you, to know you were it for me. You’re the color in my life. You give me a reason to create art. If I could I would—shit, I would just paint you for the rest of my life.” He throws his hands through his unruly hair. “But then I would be broke because I would refuse to let anyone see them.” He jumps back at me. “And because you are mine, Lex. I know we started in an unusual way. And I know I should have mentioned Victoria before. But I wasn’t thinking of her. Or that screwed up part of my life. I was thinking of only perfection. Only you.”

  His desperate eyes bore into mine as I try and inhale air. His words. His emotions.

  They seep into my skin and into my soul. His admission soothes all the pain and worry I’ve had swirling in my head since we parted. That I do need him and I do want to give him a chance. I have no idea how this works. But I know my body, my heart, my life buzzes with something unspeakable when he is a part of it. I think I’ve waited this long because it was always supposed to be him who I jumped into this journey with.

  “I think I love you too,” I blurt out, making an ass out of myself. Hunter responds with laughter. “You think?” he playfully banters.

  “Well I’m ninety-nine percent sure. I’ve never been in love before so I can’t be sure. But I feel really weird and right now I don’t know whether I want to cry, possibly laugh, or most importantly, have really really rough sex with you against the storage cabinet.”

  His smile spreads across his handsome face. He pulls his hands off the wall and lifts me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, “Fuck I’ve missed you, Lexi,” he confesses, pressing me into the wall. My response is a moan as I deepen our kiss. “Tell me you believe me. Tell me you will stop running from me,” he begs, spreading kiss after urgent kiss down my neck. I almost want to pull away and make him explain more about his estranged wife but I can’t stop the emotions that are forcing my legs to wrap tighter around him. His approval shows when he growls into my skin, grabbing a chunk of my hair and wrapping it around his fist. He pulls my head back slightly so our eyes connect. “Tell me you want this as bad I as I do, Lex. My sweet Lexi.”

  I can barely speak. My throat is swollen with emotions. “Yes.” I breathe the one word, opening a floodgate of emotions across Hunter’s face. He grip tightens. “Tell me again,” he urges.

  “Yes, Hunter. I want you, I want all of you,” I confess.

  “Christ, I love you,” he says with a growl and slams his mouth exactly where it belongs. Our lips collide and we’re devouring each other like starved lovers. There is never enough with him. No matter how much I devour his mouth or he takes in mine, we never seem close enough. His body is grinding into mine and the temperature in the small engineer room is rising. He removes his hand from my ass, sliding his palm up my thigh, bringing the hem of my dress up along with it.

  “Did you wear this dress for me, Lexi? Did you want me to see you in this and remember all the times I saw you in white and took you so roughly but so gently, the pleasure was almost unbearable for both of us?”

  “Yes, God yes,” I pant wanting his hand to keep going higher.

  “You’re absolutely stunning,” he says, working his way up my inner thigh. He finally hits home when his fingers brush against my bare flesh.

  “No underwear? You little minx,” he appeases and his finger disappears inside my throbbing center. We moan together. The feeling of him inside me, stroking his long thick finger in and out of my sensitive warmth. “So perfect,” he hums as he lays soft kisses along my chin. The slowness of him is killing me. I know the gentle lover he can be, but right now I need hard. “More,” I whisper, needing just that. I’m not ashamed to beg. I’ve been wishing for this since I walked out of his hotel room. He pulls his finger out slowly, teasing my entrance. With a dark smile filling his face, he offers me exactly what I need. “My pleasure,” he commands and thrusts two fingers inside. My head is thrown back hitting the wall as an explosion of sensations run through me. God he is so good at this. I ride his fingers and the closer I get to exploding, the harder he thrusts inside me.

  “Your pussy was made for me, Lexi. So perfect. So responsive.” His voice rough. I throw my hands into his hair and bring his lips to mine. I need his mouth, his tongue, his scent. I need to feel all of him when I come completely undone. My body is riding up and down the wall and within seconds I am coming apart in his arms and around his stroking fingers. My insides clamp around him as my orgasm blasts through me.

  Before I have the chance to fully recover, the door handle jiggles followed by the sound of knocking. “Hello? I
s someone in there? Lexi?”

  “Oh shit! It’s Chrissy.” I recognize her voice. I stare at Hunter unsure of what to do. Not that I care that my bestie knows I’m hussy-ing it up in the engineer room, but what if Cornelius is with her. That’s total grounds to get fired.

  “Shh. Don’t say anything. She’ll go away,” he says, laying gentle kisses over my flushed skin. I agree and lay my head back and allow him to pamper my neck.

  “Whoever is in there, you are pressing against the light switch. The lights keep flickering in the gallery. Maybe you can move to another wall. Thanks!” she ends and then we both hear heels clicking down the hallway.

  “Oh shit!” I say as Hunter pulls our bodies away from the wall. We both turn and stare at two light switches right where my ass connected to the wall.

  And then we both start laughing.

  Once we calm, I speak. “We should probably get out there. We’ve been gone a long time and I’m sure Cornelius is looking for me.”

  He doesn’t say anything but he slowly nods in agreement. Never taking his eyes off mine.

  “What?” I ponder his thoughtful look. “Nothing. I’m just happy. You make me happy. And thank you for hearing me out.”

  I look at him, hearing the sincerity in his voice. “Well I don’t think we are exactly done with this conversation, but for now, me too. I believe you. And I’ve missed you terribly.” My confession shocks me too. I’m not normally so sappy. Thankfully he spanks me on the ass to cool the moment.

  “Good. Let’s get out there and hurry this up, so I can really show you how much I missed you.”

  I smile and he finally releases me. I adjust my dress and smooth my hair. I take in Hunter and realize he needs some grooming as well. I attempt to fix his ‘I just had a romp in the engineer room’ hair as best I can.

  We head out down the hall, Hunter continuously trying to hold my hand. Each time I swat him off, but with a smile. “Stop. If Cornelius sees us like this he will fire me.”

  “I don’t care, I will take care of you. You can be my personal assistant. I have tons of things I need you to do for me.” His teasing smile so infectious.

  I swat his hand again and step in front of him. His growl makes me smile wider, assuming it’s due to my swaying ass. Because let’s be honest, that baby looks ah-mazing in this dress.

  “Um Lexi?” We hear Hannah from behind us. We both turn, catching the distressed face of my assistant.

  “What is it, Hannah?” I question her.

  “Um… There’s… well… there’s…”

  “Just spit it out.”

  “There was a private painting delivered. The note was signed from… well Mr. James.” She hesitates. I turn to him and smile. “And what of it, Hannah?”

  “Well it was specifically instructed to be hung in the center of the gallery, midway through the show.”

  “Great, so what’s the problem?” I try and dismiss her. I really need to get back before Cornelius starts to wonder.

  “Um… well…”

  “Hannah,” I warn.

  “It’s of you, Miss Hall. And you’re nude.”

  I DON’T EVEN HEAR Hunter yelling for me. I just run. I didn’t think I could run this fast in heels, but I am booking it. I turn the corner to the main gallery and before my eyes is a group of attendees hurdled around a painting. Along with my boss and best friend. Hearing my arrival they turn. Chrissy’s eyes fill with worry and Cornelius’s… well, I’m not sure what his expression means. But he does not look happy. I pull my sights away from him to inquire what has the entire show at a standstill.

  And it’s the portrait Hunter painted of me in his penthouse.

  Fully nude.

  I am frozen in place. Horrified may not even be the word. Shock is definitely the number one bystander in my emotions right now.

  “Lexi, I swear I didn’t do this.” I hear Hunter next to me, but I can’t take my eyes away from the painting. I slowly turn to face him. “Private collection huh?” I mutter turning back to his masterpiece.

  “I swear I didn’t do this. This wasn’t me.” He grabs for my arm, but I turn and slap him, the sound echoing across the entire gallery. Rounds of gasps from the attendees fill the room.

  “Stay away from me, Hunter.” Is the only thing I can muster before I walk away. I don’t turn around when he starts screaming my name, or when he begins a ruckus by screaming profanities demanding the painting be taken down. I also don’t stop when I hear Chrissy running after me. Only when I make it to the street am I finally stopped.

  “Oh I hope I haven’t missed the main event.” I hear a woman’s accent walking up the sidewalk. I turn to investigate and spot Victoria walking my way. She is dressed in a red skintight dress, her long dark hair perfectly displayed over her shoulders. “I hear our Hunter is displaying his best work yet tonight,” she says with a smile across her face.

  “You bitch,” I attack. She knew about the painting. So, Victoria was behind this, not Hunter?

  “Ahh such unladylike words you Americans use. Doesn’t suit such an attractive woman like yourself,” she taunts, walking closer. “He definitely did a good job painting you, I must say. Not comparable to the ones he has of me in his collection, but close.” She continues. I’m frozen in place while her words effectively gut me.

  “You are just another muse to him, darling. He will get sick of you as he did me. Then he will flee. It’s a shame because he is truly c'est magnifique in bed.” She goes to touch my hair, but Chrissy intervenes.

  “Bitch, you touch her and I will body slam you to the ground.” Victoria turns quickly at Chrissy’s presence. “You were not invited to this private showing. You need to leave. You are trespassing so get the fuck off this property. NOW.” She raises her voice her expression tough.

  “Oh my, what a fiery little girl you are.” Chrissy takes another threatening step closer to Victoria. “I’m not sure you heard me correctly. And I may be small but I will take that hair of yours and make you choke on it after I wrap it around your chicken neck. Now. Get lost bitch!”

  My chin goes from quivering to dropped in seconds. The feistiness coming out of Chrissy is shocking. I knew she was a badass but holy cow. Even I’m shaking a bit at her fierce threats.

  “Shame. I really wanted to enjoy the show. No worries. Please do give Hunter my best. Au revoir!” She waves, looking completely unfazed and struts back to where she came from.

  “Are you okay?” Chrissy is on me in seconds. I can’t move and I don’t know how to respond to her question. Okay is definitely not what I am right now.

  “I’m… I’m…” My lips beginning to quiver again.

  “LEXI!” Hunter storms out of the gallery toward me. Chrissy creates a barrier in front of me, blocking his view. “I swear you come any closer to her and I will make you eat your balls.”

  “Lexi, please. I swear I had nothing to do with that. You have to believe me,” he begs of me, but I can’t. Every time I try and speak, images of my nude form cross my mind combined with the cut of Victoria’s words.

  You are just another muse to him, darling. He will get sick of you as he did me.

  “I’m serious, Mr. James. Get the fuck out of here. I don’t care who you are to this gallery. You come near her I will end your life and bury your body where no one will ever find you.”

  What the fuck? Who is this bad ass and where did my best friend go?

  “I just want her to—”

  “NOT GOING TO REPEAT MYSELF!” she bellows. It causes us both of us to jump. He understands the severity of the situation and backs down. He steps back two steps showing his white flag. That’s when Chrissy turns and wraps her arm around me to guide me toward my place. It’s not until we are fully in my suite that I break down and allow my best friend to hold me while I cry.

  I never really had friends growing up. I mean I had friends but not real ones. Being the only daughter of a powerful family, I was always partnered with their friends’ kids. All so stuck in
their own snooty ways. Training their kids early to be stuck up and think they deserve it all. I grew up having had tons of fake relationships with people who really didn’t care about me. They cared what circle I ran with or how they could get higher to the top of the champagne fountain of success. It’s how it worked in my world.

  Everyone was fake.

  I remember in the eighth grade I thought I was in love with a boy from my science class. I confided in Jenny Silvers whose parents were best friends with mine from the country club. Two days later I caught her allowing him to feel her up behind the bleachers after lacrosse practice. When I was seventeen, I wrote an essay in hopes to get into Dartmouth and had Becky Everglade read it over to make sure it sounded good. She ended up turning in my essay as her own. So when mine was submitted it was considered plagiarism and I was not accepted. The stories went on and on until I got the hint. No one was truly my friend. Not until I met Chrissy. She cared about what I had to say and she cared about me. It took time for me to let her in, but eventually I found myself leaning on her for things I used to depend on myself for. She was my rock. And the only one who was never fake to me. The only one I never faked it with.

  I’m sitting on my couch replaying her pyscho attack on Victoria and Hunter. And it makes me cry some more just thinking how she defended me. How she saved me from both people when I became so weak in my own pain and couldn’t fend for myself. How she got me home and stripped me of my dress and traded it for one of my many ‘Save water, Drink Wine’ t-shirts that we ordered online one night when we were hammered.

  She went straight for our favorite cabinet and pulled out the tequila and without question she began to pour. I’m not sure at this point I am even making sense, and it’s because I am also starting to struggle on what she is saying. And that’s because we are both trashed.

  “And remember that one time, when I spilt the bloody Mary all over my white capris and we told the waiter I had my period?” I belt out laughing. Chrissy falls over and falls off the couch. “Oh… oh my God, yes! He was so traumatized by it he covered our whole bill because he refused to come back to hand us the check!” She recalls through her giggles.

 

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