I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow last night, with no thought to the implication of asking Andrew to hold me through the night.
But now, in the light of morning, the implications are very, very clear. I’m not sure what to do. My body is screaming for me to back into Andrew, to wake him up gently with sensual movements to show him how badly I want him.
My head, though, is another matter. After yesterday, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to get involved with anyone. If I get too close to him, I’ll have to tell him about my past. I’ll have to explain why my family makes the comments that they do, and why it’s so difficult to be around them.
Without realizing it, by bringing Andrew here, I’ve made it so much harder for myself to be with him. How can I possibly have a casual relationship with him when we’re waking up in each other’s arms?
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He shifts in his sleep, pulling me closer with his arm. Suddenly, I feel suffocated. What felt like a warm, comfortable embrace now feels like a prison.
I try to lift his arm off me but it weighs about three thousand pounds.
“Damn your muscular biceps,” I say under my breath.
Andrew groans. I try to shimmy away from him, peeling his fingers away as I move toward the edge of the bed. I slither underneath him, inching closer to the edge of the bed. With a loud unf, I land on the floor.
I take a deep breath, peeking above the mattress to see Andrew still sleeping soundly.
I sigh.
What is wrong with me? I’m incredibly attracted to this smart, handsome, successful man. I ask him to come cuddle me, and then I freak out!
I push myself up to my feet and shake my head. Wandering out to the living room, I’m once again taken aback at the luxury of this place. When I moved away from my parents’ house, I resigned myself to the simple life. And now, to be back in this kind of luxury is a bit strange.
There’s a little kitchenette in the corner with complimentary coffee. It’s one of those fancy machines with the individual capsules, so I pop one in the machine and wait for my cup to brew.
The machine buzzes and gurgles, sputtering for a few seconds before it finally starts pouring into the waiting mug. I sigh, inhaling the scent of my coffee.
“Morning,” Andrew’s sexy voice says behind me.
I turn toward him, and my eyes involuntarily drop to his crotch. He’s wearing boxers, and I can’t see any evidence of the erection that prodded me awake this morning.
I clear my throat. “Morning.”
“You sleep okay?” He stalks toward me, his eyes dropping to my chest. I find myself standing a bit taller, as if I’m giving him my best angles. Every time he looks at me it feels like a string is pulled tighter between us.
All my fears from this morning start to evaporate. Why was I worried about a relationship? Why was I worried about opening up to him?
Here is a sexy, available, thoughtful man who is obviously into me. I can see it in the way his gaze runs from my head down to my toes. He licks his lips, glancing back up at my face.
“You look very sexy this morning,” he growls.
I bite my lip.
I haven’t even kissed this man, and I feel like I’ve done everything with him. He has raw sexual energy oozing out of his pores. It makes me want to drop to my knees and beg him to fuck me.
“So do you,” I manage to say. He stands in front of me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My nipples harden, poking through the thin fabric of my tee shirt.
He glances down at my chest, brushing his hands over my breasts. I shiver.
“Didn’t know you were an Enrique Iglesias fan,” he grins.
I look down and smile. “It’s the first concert I ever went to,” I chuckle. “I’ve had this shirt for like fifteen years.”
“I like it.” His voice is thick. I glance down at the bulge in his boxers and a thrill of desire goes through me. He brushes the back of his hand across my breast again and I let out a whimper. His thumb circles my hardened nipple and I close my eyes for a moment.
Is this finally going to happen?
I tilt my head up, parting my lips. It feels like I’m begging him with my eyes—begging him to just do it. Just take me. Just crush your lips against mine and reduce me to a puddle of desire in an instant.
Andrew’s hand drifts from my breast up to my neck, where he brushes my long blonde hair off my shoulder. He runs his fingers along the nape of my neck, pulling gently so that my head tilts up toward him.
I press my chest against his, panting as I let the heat of my desire carry me forward. My hands drift to his chest, and I feel his heart beat against me. He tilts his head down as his hot breath washes over me.
God, I want his kiss. I want all of him.
His lips dip down toward mine as I part them, my heart racing in my chest.
“Meggy!”
We both groan at the sound of knocking on the door. Andrew rests his forehead against mine, sighing as he closes his eyes.
“Is that…?”
“My mother? Yes. Yes it is.”
“Meggy! Open the door!”
“How did she know what room we were in?”
I just laugh and shake my head. “How does she know anything? She probably slipped a twenty to the front desk staff.”
I gently push Andrew away from me, apologizing with my eyes.
“She’ll break down the door if I don’t answer it.”
A grin twitches at his lips and he nods. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Still glad you came?”
“I haven’t come yet,” he growls. My eyes widen and a spark ignites between my legs. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Andrew drops his hand to my ass, squeezing it gently.
“Better go answer that door,” he says in my ear before slipping away to the bedroom. My jaw is still hanging open when my feet carry me toward the door. I open it automatically, and it’s not until my mother and I are halfway through the usual hellos and how-are-yous that I come back down to earth.
17
Andrew
I’m starting to hate Meg’s family. Not really—I mean, who could hate someone named Bunny? But I’m dying to kiss Meg. I’m dying to do a lot more than that to her, but kissing her is the first step.
Glancing down at the tent in my boxers, I sigh. I can hear Bunny yammering in the other room, so I’m going to have to deal with this somehow. Either I just wait it out, or…
I shake my head. I’m not going to jerk off again, especially not when there’s only a thin wall separating me with Meg’s mother.
Letting out a big sigh, I put my hands on my hips and glance around the room. This could take a while, and for all I know, Bunny’ll come bursting through that door any second.
I spot a towel hanging on the back of a chair and I grab it, quickly wrapping it around my waist. I’m still wearing a tee shirt, so I rip it off and toss it aside.
With a deep breath, I fling open the bedroom door and paint a shocked expression on my face.
“Oh! Bunny! I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” Meg’s eyebrow arches. Maybe I won’t win an Oscar for this performance, but Bunny seems convinced. Her eyes are glued to my chest. Is this how women feel when guys stare at their tits?
I clear my throat, gesturing awkwardly to the bathroom. I keep one hand tightly clamped near my crotch, even though my erection is making a quick retreat under Bunny’s watchful gaze. With just a few long strides, I’m safely locked in to the bathroom.
I drop the towel and look at my cock. There’s no sign of it ever being hard. That’s one way of losing an erection in a hurry.
By the time I’m finished with my shower, the noise in the living room hasn’t let up. I walk out to see Meg red-faced, wearing the most hideous pink taffeta dress I’ve ever seen. Her hair is sticking out in all directions as her mother stands behind her, pulling the laces of her corset so tightly she’s flinging Meg over and back like a rag doll.
Meg glances at me. Her look says don’t.
I clear my throat and Bunny looks up. She flashes me a smile.
“What do you think? Nadine decided that it would be wrong for Meggy not to be in the bridal party. I thought that was quite generous of her, don’t you think?”
“I, uh…”
Meg looks like she’s about to cry.
“Beautiful,” I stammer, completely at a loss for words. Meg snorts.
Bunny looks at her daughter, hands on her hips, beaming.
“Nadine will be so happy,” she says. “It would be better if you hadn’t put on so much weight, but the gown will hide that.”
Meg purses her lips and takes a deep breath. I can almost see her counting to five in her head as she tries to calm down.
“So, you have to be at the venue in forty minutes to make time for hair and makeup. Andy, you can come too. Dale and Mr. Ainsworth will be there, it’ll be great.”
“Yeah, it’ll be great,” Meg says through gritted teeth.
If Bunny hears Meg’s sarcasm, she ignores it. With a flourish and a sashay, she’s out the door and Meg slumps onto the couch.
I’m still wearing a towel, but I go sit next to her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Well, I was hoping to stand at the back and disappear, but now I’ll be front and center. I haven’t spoken to Nadine in over six years! Why the heck would she make me a bridesmaid?”
“Well, you are her sister…” I say with a grin.
Meg waves the thought away, shaking her head. “That never meant anything before, why would it mean anything now?”
The bitterness in her voice makes me put my arm around her back. I pull her close, wrapping her in a hug. She lays her head on my chest, sighing.
“You’re not wearing any clothes,” she says matter-of-factly. Her hand drops to my thigh and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. I watch her hand move back and forth on the towel and feel the blood rush between my legs.
Then, sadly, Meg pushes herself off me and sighs.
“We should probably get ready to go. I feel like I should be paying you for this,” she grins.
“You’ll be paying me by doing the same for me in a couple days,” I laugh. “Give me half an hour and I’ll be ready.”
“Untie these for me, will you?” She says, turning her back to me.
I swallow thickly as I look at the laces crossing behind her back. Slowly, I loosen them, one cross at a time. My fingers brush against the skin of her back, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. I yank one of the laces and Meg falls toward me. I catch her hip in my hand, pushing my chest against her back. I inhale the fresh scent of her hair as she lets out a soft moan.
“I want you,” I hear myself whisper in her ear.
She turns around, eyes wide. She’s holding up the bodice of her dress with her hands as her mouth falls open. I watch her tongue slide out to lick her perfect lips in that movement that I’ve come to know so well. My cock responds as it always does, and my towel isn’t doing much to hide my excitement.
“I want you too, Andrew,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Meg slides the bodice down, inch by inch and I inhale sharply as I see her bare breasts.
I groan. “Meg…”
She pushes the dress past her hips and I make another guttural noise as I see the little white panties that she’s wearing underneath. She steps out of the dress, kicking it to the side and looks up at me. Her hands drift to her waist, her stomach, and up to her breasts.
I untie the towel and let it puddle at my feet. Her eyes drop to my cock. It throbs as if to wave ‘hello’ to her. She sighs, closing her eyes for a second.
When she opens them again, her pupils are dilated and her eyelids are low. She takes a step toward me, trailing her fingers across my chest. I groan, then catch her fingers with mine and lay a soft kiss across the tips of them.
With another step toward me, her chest is against mine. Her breasts press against my muscled chest, and she rolls her hips toward me. She wraps her arms around my neck as my hands find the curve of her ass.
I lean my forehead against hers, sighing.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this,” I whisper.
“Same here,” she chuckles softly.
Then, the door flies open and Bunny shrieks in the doorway. Meg falls away from me, landing on the floor and grabbing the taffeta skirt to cover herself as I find a throw cushion to hold over my crotch.
“Sorry! Sorry! I’d forgotten to leave back the key that I borrowed to get the dress! Oh my goodness!” Bunny stares at us through her fingers and leaves the key on the console table by the door. She turns to leave and then pauses, glancing over her shoulder.
“You only have thirty minutes to get there, and the venue is fifteen minutes away.” She clears her throat, arching her eyebrow and staring at me.
I’ve never felt so naked in my life.
“Get out, Mom,” Meg groans. As soon as the door closes, she falls onto her back. She throws her arm across her face and shakes her head.
A grin tugs at my lips as I look at her. This time, her blush has extended all down her chest and shoulders. I start chuckling as Meg glances at me from behind her arm.
I toss the cushion at Meg’s head as I sink down on the sofa, completely naked. I laugh, staring down at my crotch and shaking my head.
“Well, your mother certainly has a gift for making me lose an erection.”
That makes Meg laugh. “At least she’s good for something.”
18
Meghan
The air between me and Andrew is crackling with tension. After my mother interrupts us, we get dressed in silence. I opt for the little black dress I wore last night, with the pink monstrosity of a bridesmaid’s dress slung over my arm. Andrew emerges from the bathroom and my breath catches.
There’s something about a man in a well-tailored tux that does it for me. Andrew looks at me, arching his eyebrow ever so slightly. He straightens his bow tie and then lets his hands drop to his sides.
“What do you think?”
I can only manage a nod. Maybe I should bring a change of underwear.
I lift the big bundle of pink material. “Figured I’d get changed there, after they do my hair and makeup.”
“I know you’re not thrilled about the prospect of being in the wedding, but at least you get a free makeover out of it.”
“Have you seen my sister’s style?” I grin. “I’m not really a ‘Real Housewives of Las Vegas’ kind of girl.”
Andrew grins. “Well, I’m looking forward to it. I’ll make sure to take lots and lots of pictures.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I’ll murder you if you post any pictures of me in this dress.”
Andrew steps closer to me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’d look amazing in anything, Meg.”
I bite my lip. For a moment, I hesitate. I could just be a little bit late for this wedding. All I’d have to do is reach up and untie that little bow tie of his. I’d slip my fingers to the nape of his neck and bring his lips down to mine, and—
With a breath, I shake my head. I know we wouldn’t be a little bit late. If I got my hands on Andrew, I wouldn’t want to leave for at least a couple hours. The tension in my body wouldn’t be released with just a little quickie.
So, my torture continues.
We grab a cab and head toward the wedding venue. It’s located in my family’s country club, and my heart beats a little bit faster when we turn up the drive toward the big, grand building. I haven’t been here in over six years—not since my family publicly shamed me.
I swallow, trying to ignore the flood of memories that starts coming back. I remember running down these steps after they’d called me a prostitute in front of the whole club. I remember seeing my mother in the doorway, turning her back on me as she went back inside.
When the cab stops, a valet appears from nowhere and opens my door. I nod to him, st
ruggling to get the huge dress out of the cab door with me without falling. When I’m finally out, I take a deep breath and look around. It looks the same, and once the initial shock wears off, it’s not quite so traumatic being here.
Andrew steps out of the car and I smile at him. It helps to have him beside me.
My mother appears, waltzing down the steps to greet us. There are flowers lining the walk, and I can see lights strung up through the trees all along the driveway. Gauzy fabric floats in the light breeze and I take a deep breath.
If this is the approach, I can only imagine what the inside of the club will look like. My parents will have spared no expense for Nadine’s wedding.
I’m not sure why that stings so much—maybe it’s the knowledge that they wouldn’t do this for me.
“You’re not wearing your dress!” My mother exclaims. Her eyes flick to Andrew, down to his crotch, and then straight back to me. Her lips pinch, and I want to start laughing. It’s not like her to be shy. She must have gotten quite a shock when she walked in.
“I figured I’d get my hair and makeup done first, so I wouldn’t mess up the dress.”
My mother purses her lips and then waves us forward. “Andrew, you’ll have to entertain yourself for a few hours while we make Meghan pretty.”
“She’s already pretty,” he says, squeezing my hand. My heart melts.
“Right. Of course,” Mom says, waving her hand. “The boys are in the bar, you can join them. Meg, follow me.”
My mom is all business. I smile at Andrew and shoot him an apologetic glance. I’d rather not leave him alone with my family, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. I’m ushered down a wide hallway toward the back of the club. We get in an elevator, and I’m almost suffocated with the sheer amount of fabric that I’m carrying. Finally, we exit the elevator and head down toward a door on the other end of the hallway.
Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series Page 41