Daddy Shifter's Fake Fiance (Stonybrooke Shifters)

by Leela Ash

  “Hi fellas,” she purred, her voice huskier than usual.

  Cougar mode; not that they were younger guys, though.

  “What the hell? Who are you?” one of them asked rudely.

  Sage tried not to let her confidence falter at that one. It was already battered, thanks to lobby guy. She grinned saucily at the guy who had spoken; he was hot in a boy-next-door kind of way.

  She opened her mouth to respond but she was forestalled by a shrill, “Who the hell is she?” from behind her.

  She didn’t even have to turn around to know she was the ‘she’ in question.

  “Sorry. My bad,” she began, casting a wry look over her shoulder at the three ladies standing behind her.

  “Look at that, Lou, we turn our backs for one second and someone is panting after our guys,” one of the three ladies whispered sotto voce.

  “Yeah, someone’s got some explaining to do,” the third lady said, coming forward aggressively.

  Sage barely refrained from rolling her eyes at such drama.

  “Listen ladies, I was not panting after your guys, I was only ”

  “Waiting for me,” a deep voice interrupted with quiet assurance from somewhere behind them.

  Everyone froze. Slowly, Sage turned around with everyone else to see who had spoken and she paled; it was lobby guy!

  CHAPTER THREE

  The man from the hotel lobby had changed into a burgundy sports coat, deep-blue shirt, and well-tailored pants that frankly put his earlier jeans and shirt to shame and his hair was even more sexily mussed than ever before. She noticed, for the first time, that he had incredibly red lips and ridiculously long lashes, the combination of which should have given him a feminine air, but, somehow, managed to make him look even sexier and more masculine. Beneath the soft play of the dim lights in the room, his features seemed more sharply chiseled, even more ruggedly handsome and an unwelcome coil of desire began to tighten in Sage’s heart. She could have sworn she also felt a spurt of wetness between her thighs.

  “Sorry I took so long to bring the car around,” he said innocently, unaware of his effect on Sage as he flicked a smiling glance at her.

  Her throat dried up completely and she wished heartily that he wouldn’t smile at her. That kind of grin, given its sheer potency, should be outlawed! It did strange things to a woman’s temperature, and it wasn’t just her. The three ladies had gone from being protective hens to looking like fatuous Cheshire cats with identical come-hither grins while their men were rapidly beginning to look threatened.

  “Um, what?” she asked, certain she had misheard.

  “Come on honey, don’t keep Cedric waiting in the limo. Who knows what mischief he could get up to,” he said, placing a firm hand beneath her elbow and pulling her gently to her feet.

  Every nerve in her body went on immediate alert, sensation skittering from the point where he touched her to spread all over her body until her nipples were hardening into little points beneath her gown.

  “Ladies? Gentlemen? Sorry for the interruption. Do have a good evening,” he said politely and then he inexorably escorted Sage towards the door.

  “Where do you think you’re taking me to?” Sage whispered through gritted teeth.

  “Out to the streets where you belong,” he informed her implacably. “I don’t need your kind on my premises,” he said quietly.

  His premises?

  “My kind?” she asked, voicing the more urgent question.

  He had escorted her right past the table where her friends were sitting, stupidly gaping at the pair of them with their mouths hanging open like jellyfish, and then straight out onto the street in front of the restaurant.

  She turned to face him, one eyebrow raised as she waited for a response.

  He simply deposited her in front of the restaurant and turned to leave.

  She detained him with a firm hand on his elbow. “Wait. What did you mean ‘my kind’?”

  “You flashed me a boob in front of the Presidential hotel and then less than thirty minutes later, I found you making out with the waiter and then hitting up a couple of guys. You do the math. I know what you’re up to lady, but this is an exclusive restaurant and not for your type. I’m sorry, you’ll have to…ply your trade elsewhere.”

  There it was again; she didn’t have to be a Brainiac to know what he meant by her type. This time, she let fly with her fist and slapped him as hard as she could, the force of the slap flinging his head back. Red welts immediately appeared on his smoothly shaven cheek and Sage determinedly squelched the surge of guilt that threatened to swamp her. She would not apologize, especially when he totally deserved it.

  He stared down at her, his eyes as hard as ice chips in his angular face, and then he enunciated coolly, “I suppose some men find that a turn on, perhaps among your clientele; but I assure you, inflicting pain won’t get you anywhere with me.”

  “You are just determined to be a jerk,” she cried, stamping her foot in frustration.

  “I won’t ask you again, please make yourself scarce, Senorita,” he said, pinning her with a level look that told her he meant business.

  Sage rolled her eyes. “I’m not a prostitute, okay? I had a dare with my friends, for crying out loud. Everyone does something crazy like that every now and then. You would know that if you were not some uptight country bumpkin without any exposure whatsoever.”

  His lips twitched a little at that one and Sage glared murderously at him; she was on a roll and he thought something was funny? Was he laughing at her?

  “If you so much as lay one more depraved finger on me, I’ll slam a lawsuit on you so fast, it will make your ancestors dizzy,” she promised furiously.

  This time, he was definitely laughing at her. His eyes twinkled as he boldly stepped closer to her, his dark gaze searching hers. “Allow me to make amends. Please. I was obviously very wrong in my assessment of your person because I put one and one together and came up with eleven. Let me make amends, please.”

  He was so earnest, sincere and eager; or at least he seemed that way, and Sage felt her anger give way, draining out slowly until she was weak with the loss of all that energy.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, still fighting a grin as he watched her deflate like a balloon.

  “Sage. Sage Ta Talbot,” she supplied, watching him, amazed at the transformation in his features now that he had stopped glaring at her. She didn’t think it would be terribly wise to tell this stranger her real name.

  “Will you do me the honor of having dinner with me, Sage?” he invited, his dark eyes boring into hers.

  “I I’m already having dinner with my friends,” she told him. “Besides, you’re a stranger”

  “I would like to change that. Please. I could never sleep with this on my conscience,” he added dramatically, splaying one large palm over his heart.

  Sage giggled. He was a rogue all right. “Okay, fine. But my friends may not really enjoy one more person at our table.”

  As if! Her friends would probably slobber all over him at dinner, she thought with an inward chuckle.

  “Have you ever been to Spain? Taken in the sights at night? Let me give you a tour without your friends,” he cajoled softly.

  Was it her imagination or did his eyes light up with that gleam men got when they wanted to have hot and heavy sex? Well, lobby guy hadn’t seemed interested in her before, so why the sudden interest, she wondered, all alarm bells ringing in her ear.

  She stared at him speechlessly.

  As though he had read her mind, he said softly, “I know, given how we met, you’re wondering just how safe you are with me. Smart.”

  “Smart?” she asked, frowning up at him.

  “Yes smart, because I can’t promise not to bite,” he told her, his dark gaze flicking from her face to her lips, stroking down her firm, rounded breasts, her waist cinched with a belt that emphasized her hourglass figure, and her generous hips before scanning her long silky legs exp
osed by the knee-length gown.

  His meaning was as clear as the nose on her face. She waited for her affronted sensibilities to arise but all she felt was a quickening of her pulse.

  “I don’t even know your name,” she protested weakly, her pulse hammering at the base of her throat so wildly that she was half-afraid he could hear it.

  He grinned, a triumphant smile that was pure male and told her, without words, that he knew her protest was a mere formality. “I’m Raven. Raven Hawthorne,” he told her, watching her carefully as though he expected her to recognize the name.

  He relaxed imperceptibly when she obviously didn’t.

  She looked over at Eden and Sage; they had given up all pretense of eating and were almost falling out of their seats as they craned to see Sage and the stranger. He followed the direction of her gaze and hid a grin.

  “I have to tell them I am going with you,” Sage whispered.

  What was she doing? This was crazy! He was a stranger and 

  Slowly, he reached up a hand and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I was so aggressive when I saw you earlier because, from the moment I saw you in that lobby, I wanted you with every fiber of my being,” he enunciated carefully. “I wasn’t really fighting you, I was fighting myself.”

  He meant it, she realized. This was a man who said what he meant and meant what he said, no games!

  “So you can tell them you’ll be back safe and sound in the morning, unless you don’t want what I’m offering.”

  “Which is?” she asked. If he made the mistake of saying sex, she would run faster than a frightened rabbit, she decided.

  He stared at her, his dark eyes tracing her features and then he said slowly as though in pain, “I’m offering you one night of excitement and anonymity. You’re on vacation, aren’t you? If you don’t do something absolutely crazy now, when will you?”

  She bit her lip, thinking, and then nodded as she made up her mind and turned away to tell the girls and pick up her purse.

  “Oh, and Sage?” he called, making her pause mid-stride and turn to look back at him. His dark eyes trailed sinuously, lingeringly down her generous curves, paused on her naked back daringly exposed by the cut-away of her leopard print dress, before rising sleepily to meet hers. “As to biting, I can’t wait!” he whispered wickedly.

  Her entire body tightened and almost convulsed with pleasure right there.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Spain has got to be the most beautiful country on earth,” Sage sighed hours later, licking her fingers as she finished her winged chicken.

  She had been places she never even knew existed; the man had taken her to a Tapa, a Copa and two different nightclubs, not to mention the cocktail bar where everyone had seemed determined to party the night away. The man was such a master of wild, exotic fun, he made Eden seem as tame as a tabby cat!

  “It’s truly magical,” he agreed quietly.

  Sage flicked him a thoughtful glance. In all the hours they had spent together tonight, he had been a perfect gentleman. He had not made any overtures, nor tried to hold or touch her inappropriately, and while she appreciated his restraint, she was beginning to wonder if he found her attractive at all or if he had just flirted with her out of guilt for his earlier nasty comments. Dawning horror swept through her; perhaps that was it! He only wanted to make amends and nothing else. Maybe he even had a wife waiting for him at home and with his looks, she was bound to be a skinny model type with perfect skin and perfect hair, and not someone with voluptuous curves and extra flesh.

  “Are you married?” she blurted before she could think better of it.

  He paused, gave her a weird look before he said with deliberate precision, “No, I’m not. Never have been and never will be.”

  Sage didn’t have time to dwell overly-much on the last part of the statement because he was already leading her into yet another building. The words were in Spanish, but she knew a movie cinema when she saw one.

  She turned to look at him, “I see enough movies to last me a lifetime in the States! This is my last night here, I want to see something foreign and exotic.”

  He chuckled. “You will love this cinema. Trust me,” he added.

  Resignedly, she let him lead her into the cinema which was beautiful, exotic and…empty.

  “Do you think there’s a movie showing here now?”

  “Who cares?” he growled in a low guttural tone.

  Sage’s eyes widened. “Then why have we come here?” she asked.

  “Why do you think?” he asked as he took her hand and guided her towards the very back of the theatre.

  Surely he didn’t mean

  Oh, he did, she thought on an inward sigh of pleasure as he turned her to face him and took her lips in a torturously slow and sensuous kiss. The kiss was leisurely, tasting, testing and then when her hands slowly rose to wind about his neck, he seemed to have gotten the response he was looking for; his hands tightened about her and he pressed her up against himself.

  His tongue stroked hers slowly, surely. Then he raised his head and stared down at her. “Sage? Are you married or affianced?” he asked.

  Amazingly, she didn’t even think of Brent as her fiancé anymore, she realized. Happily, she shook her head, “No. I’m not in a relationship of any sort,” she assured silkily.

  She knew he had basically thrown her own words back to her, but she was glad he wasn’t the sort of man who would willingly close in on another man’s love interest.

  His eyes gleamed with pleasure at her words and he leaned down again and took her lips in a more insistent and torrid kiss, his hands molding her figure, squeezing, caressing and stroking her soft skin.

  “I have been in a serious sweat since I saw you in this number,” he told her now, his hand stroking the material of the gown.

  “Why?” she whispered, pleased but surprised at the admission. Eden had insisted on it, claiming it was ‘divine’, but Sage had secretly thought it made her look fat.

  “I can make out the entire outline of your delectable body,” he told her.

  Sage blushed. Raven could be savagely blunt, she noted. It was most delightful!

  He sank onto one of the cinema seats and pulled her into his lap, his hand immediately delving beneath the hem of her dress as his lips took her in a torrid, urgent kiss.

  Sage eagerly parted her lips for him, her tongue meeting and melding with his as he kissed her. The kiss took on a life of its own, and soon, he was kissing her, and stroking and caressing every inch of her flesh, setting her on fire. Sage jumped a little when his hand stroked up her thigh to the juncture of her thighs and encountered naked, pulsing, wet pussy.

  He jerked with surprise and pulled away from the kiss to look into her eyes. “No underwear?”

  “It was a dare.”

  “I’m liking your friends more and more by the minute,” he crooned.

  “If I had known this was what was underneath or wasn’t underneath I would have fucked you on the Ferris Wheel hours ago.”

  Sage chuckled with heady pleasure. Who knew a man’s simple, direct, sexual attention could be so empowering and intoxicating? She felt like a sex goddess; she felt as if she had captivated him with her sheer charm and prowess and all without any effort whatsoever.

  “Yeah, your eyes did seem to glaze over a little one time on the Ferris Wheel.”

  “Because I was wondering if you would slap my face if I solicitously grabbed your boob when it threatened to spill out of your dress.”

  She threw back her head and laughed. This man was amazing and dynamic and a lot of wonderful things in between. Here she was, about to have what promised to be wild sensual sex with a perfect stranger and she was laughing her head off unselfconsciously in his arms. With Brent, she had never been this free and carefree; she realized, looking back now, that she had had to dim her light to accommodate his fragile ego. Never again, she promised herself now. She would never let herself be that person again
for any human being.

  She got distracted then because Raven dipped one slow finger into her pussy and began to caress the tiny nub of flesh. Unconsciously, she spread her legs wider to give him better access. His long, slim finger stroked her clitoris, gently sending sharp thrills of desire pulsing through her. Wetness pooled between her thighs, coating his fingers as she restlessly moved against him. He slowly, gently pushed one finger deep into her pussy, shoving, pushing, thrusting until he had embedded it in her tight, wet passage.

  He leaned his head almost weakly against her shoulder and groaned, “Fuck, you’re tight as a virgin! Are you?”

  She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “Brent was my first, though.”

  “Who the hell is Brent?” he roared possessively.

  Sage chuckled. His pretense at jealousy was sweet even though she knew he didn’t really mean it; maybe on some basic male level, but not really. A woman could love a man like this, she thought. Her laughter died immediately.

  Don’t Sage, don’t you dare fall for the man! You will never see him again after tonight, so enjoy it for what it is, she cautioned herself.

  “My ex-fiancé,” she informed him, gently stroking his huge, pulsing arousal through the jeans. He felt bigger than any man had any right to be, she noted worriedly. It was probably just the jeans, she thought.

  “Oh! Brent! Bet he had a dinky one,” he said dismissively with smug pleasure.

  It was so out of character for him that she laughed and laughed. She was still laughing when his finger began to thrust in and out of her and his warm wet mouth enveloped her nipple, sucking, tugging and licking in perfect rhythm with the motion of his finger in and out of her.

  Sage threw back her head, writhing in his arms as he made love to her with his finger, driving the peak of pleasure higher and higher until she was spiraling out of control and shattering into a million pieces in his arms.

  She drifted back to earth slowly, her long lashes lifting drowsily over her brown eyes. He gazed at her with something almost like genuine affection shining in his black eyes and then in a sudden flurry of movements, he lifted her right off his laps and flipped her onto her stomach so she was leaning over the back of the row of cinema seats in front of them.