Double Dare: A Fake Fiancee MMF Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  “Baby,” he growled deep in his throat, the blue eyes so meaningful, so sensuous, that I almost lost it then, almost broke down and cried in his arms, begged him to let me stay.

  But all he did was push a tendril of my hair behind my ear, look at me closely, the trembling chin, the warm pools of brown, and sigh.

  “Baby,” he started again. “I want you to know that these ten days meant a lot to me, that being with you was more than I ever could have imagined.”

  Then ask me to stay, I cried inside. Ask me to put down my luggage, don’t let me walk out the door!

  But Chris just shook his head, like he was clearing his mind, before seizing my chin in his fingers.

  “And honey, you’ve opened up so many avenues to me, you can’t even imagine,” he said hoarsely. “I thought I knew everything, I was pretty much the alpha male in control,” he stopped for a moment, his voice rough. “But you, a nineteen year-old girl have shown me that I actually know nothing, that I have a shit ton to learn.”

  What he was talking about? I had no idea, but my heart beat fast, pitter-pattering like it was on speed.

  “Oh Chris,” I said merrily. “I’m sure I didn’t teach you everything. You taught me everything … in bed,” I added with a saucy smile.

  There, make it about the physical again and I was in safe territory, a zone that I could handle.

  But Chris wasn’t going there, he wanted to tell me something more.

  “Baby, you think that this was all about our bodies, and you’re right, it started out that way,” he said seriously, still gazing deeply into my eyes. “But you’ve changed me in ways that I can’t even begin to process, you’ve made me into a new man, a new everything,” he said roughly. “And I’ll always treasure these ten days together. Always.”

  My heart just about broke again, I wanted to scream. But what my heart felt and what I could actually say were two different things.

  “I know,” I said lightly, with that fake smile still on my lips. “Me too.”

  And with a quick peck on his cheek, I disentangled myself, pulling my luggage after me.

  “I gotta roll now otherwise my manager is really gonna have my ass,” I joked. “Little Mo’s is going to be serving some Lindy stew if I don’t get going. Bye now,” I said with one last smile, and with that, I was throwing my suitcase into the backseat, jauntily opening the car door before blowing him one last kiss.

  “Bye Mr. Jones!” I trilled merrily, hopping into my Jetta and zooming off. But as I drove down the long drive, I looked into my rearview mirror out of habit more than anything and saw the big man standing there, watching me drive off, his hands in his pockets, expression brooding, moody, his shoulders hunched, tense and still. If I wasn’t crazy, I’d think that he was miserable, that watching me drive off was like watching his heart roll away, the meaning of his life disappearing with each mile.

  But I shook myself, forcing myself back to reality. I was dreaming, I was living in a fantasy land where a forty-five year old alpha male fell head over heels in love with a nineteen year-old know-nothing, and clearly that wasn’t happening. Chris was my dad’s boss, and I’d only agreed to our arrangement so that he wouldn’t be fired immediately, so that my family could save up a little while making the transition.

  And suddenly, I really did break down. Right there, in the middle of traffic, my little Jetta going about twenty-five on a local street, the tears started rolling and a tearing, wrenching sob erupted from my chest. Because I’d left my heart behind with the big man … and there was no getting it back.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lindy

  “Hey,” I said disinterestedly to my roommate Kara. “What’s up? You’re back early.”

  It was summer break still and I hadn’t expected Kara to be at the apartment, I thought she was still going to be on vacation with her family, summering in Cape Code or Nantucket, wherever it is rich people go. Frankly, I found it hard to care. The last ten days had wiped my mind of everything but Christopher Jones and it was going to be hard to pick up the pieces, to get back in the groove. But I had to, I had to reconnect with my old life no matter how difficult it was, no matter how painful.

  So I forced myself to smile at Kara again.

  “How was your break?” I asked again.

  But Kara ignored me, her head still buried in a book.

  I sighed. We’d never gotten along but still, Kara’s silence was so rude. I’d asked her a direct question and she was ignoring me, pretending me like she didn’t hear.

  But I had other things on my mind, so I ignored my roommate and started unpacking, my hands slow as I pulled open my rickety bureau and placed my clothes in, my faded jeans and plaid t-shirts plain and frumpy. Next up was my underwear and I reached into my luggage, only for my hand to come out with a black g-string. One of the special black g-strings, the ones I’d worn for Chris’s eyes alone, parading around the mansion in nothing but this and skin.

  Suddenly my eyes filled with tears again and I dropped the lingerie like a hot potato. I couldn’t stand the sight of the lace, the skimpy fabric. So hurriedly, I rezipped my bag and threw it under my bed, taking a deep breath. I’d do my toiletries instead, yeah that was pretty safe, what could go wrong?

  But as soon as I unzipped my cosmetics bag, it popped open to reveal the designer lipsticks and eyeshadows he’d bought for me, a tube of the good stuff costing fifty bucks from the department store. Chris had been generous, pushing me to buy it even when I’d protested.

  “Drugstore stuff is fine,” I said, shaking my head when we were in Saks. “The make-ups all the same, anyways, they make it at the same factory.”

  But the big man shook his head.

  “Even if it’s the same, I want you to feel special when you’re putting it on,” he growled under his breath so that no one could hear. “I want you to get dressed up, get made up, knowing that it’s all for me.”

  And I’d reddened then, my breath coming quickly.

  “And if I refuse?” I challenged, my brown eyes sparkling.

  “Well I’m gonna pick it out for you then,” he said with a smirk. “So better you pick the colors, otherwise you’re going to end up with, let’s see … this green eyeshadow looks good, don’t you think?”

  And I’d giggled then, giving in. Because the green eyeshadow he held up was so ugly it was laughable. If I wanted to be a witch for Halloween then that was one thing, but no one couldn’t possibly use it in real life.

  So I picked out a couple items, a blush, a lip liner, an eyeshadow that were pretty, neutral, colors I could wear day and night. But Chris shook his head.

  “Nuh uh, honey, we just bought you a couple cocktail dresses in red, purple and blue. You need more than that to match your new outfits, so keep going,” he commanded.

  And sighing, I picked out a couple more things as Chris looked on, adding to the pile, offering commentary along the way.

  “Honey, this would be perfect on you,” he said, holding up a vampy red lipstick.

  I laughed, exasperated.

  “Chris, have you seen my lips? They’re so big already, this lipstick is going to make them look bigger, I’m gonna be Angelina Jolie on drugs.”

  He just grinned.

  “My point exactly,” he rasped, throwing the red lipstick into the “buy” pile. “My point exactly.”

  And now I was left with reminders of him everywhere, his generosity, his sense of humor, his preferences in clothes, make-up, lingerie, apparent even now that I was a hundred miles away. Oh god, what was I going to do? My heart crumpled again, my attempt to unpack and take my mind off things had backfired, making me depressed and sad once more.

  Suddenly, Kara’s voice interrupted me from outside.

  “Lindy, phone!” she yelled.

  God, why did she have to scream? Our apartment was so small, we could practically hear each other breathe even when were in different rooms, a nice, mild “Phone, Lindy” would have been enough. But I guess it was go
od that Kara had even called me, sometimes she ignored the land line, letting it ring until it stopped on its own.

  “Got it!” I called back, going into my room to take the call. “Hello?” I said breathlessly into the receiver. My heartbeat accelerated uncontrollably. Maybe it was Chris, maybe he was calling to check up on me, maybe he missed me already and wanted to hear my voice.

  But reality dropped like a ton of bricks.

  “Hi honey!” came my mom’s cheery voice. “How are you? How’s the job going? Are you ready for school?”

  Oh right, my parents thought I’d been on campus this entire time working at Mo’s, they had no idea of what I’d been up to in the last ten days. Right. My heart stopped its thudding, coming almost to a standstill instead.

  “Things are good,” I lied with a small, sad twist to my lips. “Things are good.” Hopefully my parents would never know about what happened, that my secret would be hidden forever.

  “Oh good,” trilled Brenda. “And are you ready for school to start? When does it start again, baby?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow,” I breathed into the phone, suddenly feeling extremely tired. “Listen Ma, I gotta get to work, and then I need to go to the bookstore, then the laundromat, there’s a ton of errands I have to run.”

  “Oh sure, sure,” my mom gushed. “Your dad and I, we just wanted to check in, we hadn’t talked to you since you left here last week. We’ll be up for parents’ weekend, see you then?”

  I groaned internally. Of course my parents were going to visit in two weeks’ time, they never missed stuff like parents’ weekend because I was the living manifestation of their dreams, a student at a four-year college. And I desperately wanted to avoid them, I wanted to mope and be alone instead, nurse my heart in privacy, but there was no deterring Jim and Brenda.

  So I gave in.

  “Sure Mom,” I said listlessly. “Sure, no problem. I’ll see you then.”

  But it was then that Brenda threw me for a loop.

  “And Lindy,” she added, almost breathless now with excitement. “We’re going to celebrate that weekend because you know what? Daddy just got a promotion at work! Can you believe it? He’s worked for Chris Jones for years now and never gotten a promotion, but the boss just told him today, Daddy’s going to be a VP in the company starting next week!”

  My mouth dropped open, my fingers almost losing hold of the receiver. I knew that my ten days with Mr. Jones had guaranteed my dad a couple more months, he wasn’t going to be let go right away. But my dad was still going to be fired, it was just a question of when.

  So this was a complete turnabout and I was cautious. Chris had never promised this, so I asked gently.

  “Mom, are you sure? I mean, I thought Dad was having a hard time at United Electric.”

  She just squealed again.

  “Of course I’m sure! Chris Jones told Daddy himself, called him into his office today and made it official with a letter and a raise. Can you believe it?” she asked excitedly. “Daddy made so little before and Mr. Jones tripled his salary just like that! I had no idea being an accountant could be so lucrative, but you know, Daddy’s always worked so hard …”

  Her voice babbled on and on but I was only listening with one ear. Chris had called my dad into his office, and personally given him a promotion, throwing in a raise to boot? I could hardly believe it, hardly believe the windfall that my family had just received. And it’d make a huge difference for sure, because now Brenda was babbling on about my job.

  “Honey, you won’t have to work at Little Mo’s anymore, you can quit your job. With Daddy’s new salary we’ll be safe, you can concentrate on school and getting good grades. Didn’t you want to be an architect baby? You were always so good with building blocks, always building little houses and barns, even tepees and igloos when you were small.”

  I was silent, motionless. I couldn’t believe what was happening, that Mr. Jones had done all this, that my family’s finances had turned on a dime, all because of the big man’s generosity, his appreciation for my ten day stay. And that brought me back to reality with a jolt. Because this wasn’t generosity, this wasn’t a gift because Chris Jones was a good man. This was payment for my services, we’d negotiated a bargain and I’d exceeded expectations, so the big man was rewarding me for my excellent work.

  And knowing that only made the bottom drop out of my stomach, made me miserable, a nauseous feeling rolling over me. Because I was nothing but an employee, I’d performed well and deserved to be compensated, to see the fruit of my labor. Sadly, I was nothing more than a minion to Christopher Jones, one who slept in his bed, but a paid employee nonetheless. And the knowledge made my head hurt, another wave of nausea overtaking me.

  “Okay Mom, that’s great news,” I said weakly. “I’m so happy for you guys, it’s fantastic. See you in two weeks okay?”

  But Brenda was so excited that she kept babbling away, chattering on and on about Daddy, his job, United Electric, and Mr. Jones until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Ma,” I said sharply this time. “I gotta go, I gotta get to work.”

  My mom paused for a second.

  “But honey, I thought we just agreed you don’t have to work at Little Mo’s anymore, your dad makes more than enough now. Just tell them you’re quitting.”

  I let out a huge sigh.

  “Ma, I can’t leave just like that, without any notice. Besides, you know Carla, my manager, has been so nice to me, she’d never speak to me again if I left her hanging with an open dinner shift.”

  My mom paused for a moment.

  “Of course honey, I understand,” she said. “But this will be your last shift, right? No more Little Mo’s?”

  And I grew angry all of a sudden.

  “No Brenda, I’m not sure I’m so ready to quit,” I said slowly, grinding my words. “I like this job even if you think it’s below me, I like my co-workers, I like the environment and I do fine in school, thank you very much. So no, I’m not sure I’m going to quit even if Daddy’s rolling in it now.”

  And I had to admit to myself, I didn’t want to quit because I knew that’s what Chris would want me to do. Suddenly stubborn, I didn’t care what the big man wanted, I wanted to do my own thing, spread my wings and fly a little.

  Sensing my feeling of rage, my mom backed off instantly.

  “Of course, honey,” she said gently. “Of course. We’ll talk about it more in two weeks when we come up. Take care, okay baby? Don’t work too hard and we’ll see you soon, okay? Bye, honey.”

  And with a sigh, I hung up, relieved yet angry as well. Because even though I’d left the big man, it seemed that his actions, his thoughts, still permeated every corner of my life. My parents’ financial situation, my financial situation, heck, even my unpacking, were filled with memories of him, his actions, his choices, his words, his decisions. I was irritated and angry, but also suddenly sad. Because I desperately missed the big man, wanted to feel his arms around me, his big form holding me tight … but all I had were memories now.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lindy

  I walked into the restaurant. School had started with more of a whimper than a bang, and the whole cycle had begun again, classes, clubs, events, everything in a swirling whir. Because although I was going through the motions, I was distracted. I was still thinking of Mr. Jones, dreaming of the big man and nothing had succeeded in pulling me away just yet, my thoughts and memories filled with him, his voice, his touch, those big hands holding me close.

  But now it was parents’ weekend and I’d forced myself to be alert, giving myself a small pep talk while getting ready.

  “Act happy,” I told myself sternly. “Brenda and Jim are gonna be over the moon with happiness, and you’ve got to act happy too, don’t spoil their celebratory mood.”

  Because they were splurging. Instead of going to a local pizza joint or grabbing a burger at Little Mo’s, my parents had made a reservation at Bistecca Formaia, a fancy white
-table place near campus. In our previous life, it would have been wildly out of our budget, but with my dad’s new salary my parents wanted to enjoy life a little, savor the finer things with the extra disposable income.

  So I smoothed down my purple dress, taking a deep breath before pushing open the restaurant door. I was wearing an outfit that Chris had bought me, and in fact there was a matching amethyst bracelet but I could hardly parade that around without attracting my parents’ attention. So instead, I’d stuck with the dress and matching heels, swinging a purse over my shoulder before heading out the door.

  And as I made my way towards the back, I caught sight of my parents. Oh right, there were Brenda and Jim, solid, upstanding middle-class citizens, my mom with her grey hair in a bun, my dad’s face a little flushed from a pre-dinner drink.

  But suddenly my steps came to a halt. Because seated right there at the booth with them was Mr. Jones, his muscular form dominating, impossible to miss, seizing the eye. Oh god, what was he doing here? This was like a nightmare come to life, an episode of the Twilight Zone where ghosts from the past come to haunt you. I almost swung on my heel, ready to duck out, but my mom caught sight of me and it was too late.

  “Hi honey!” she sang, waving. “We’ve been waiting for you, we came a little early and ordered a couple appetizers. Come and say hello! You remember Daddy’s boss, Christopher Jones, don’t you?”

  I almost choked as I approached, my face growing beet red, my knees wobbling. What was he doing here? At my college? In my space, with my parents no less?

  But the big man was smooth, standing to tower over all of us, his frame outfitted in a perfectly-cut suit.

  “Hello Lindy,” he said smoothly. “We’ve met before, at your parents’ anniversary party, I believe.”

  And I almost choked then. His dick had been in me so many times, making my body scream and tremble, give it up over and over again, and yet we were going through this farce of “oh, how nice to meet you.”