by Nadia Lee
Ryder is visibly pale. Tendons in his neck flex and stand out, and his clenched hands shake.
“Have a good evening.” Julian gives us a paternal smile that slithers over me like an oily rope.
Ryder pushes them out of the house. I want to ask him about what just happened, but I can’t, not with Mom and Simon watching. I don’t think they heard anything, but they’d have to be blind not to notice the anger pouring out of Ryder in waves.
“I’ll take Mom and Simon to the guest house,” I say. The housekeeper could do it, but I prefer to talk to them alone and make sure they don’t think even more badly of Ryder. They already think he sleeps with anything that’s warm.
Ryder nods. Everyone exchanges polite pleasantries, but everyone’s bodylines are tense and stiff, like they’re in outfits designed for costume malfunction if they breathe too hard.
I can feel the food in my belly churning as my stomach twists.
* * *
The “guest house” sounds like a cozy little cottage, but it’s actually a mini-mansion with seven bedroom suites. Situated on the other side of the garden, it’s no less opulent than the main house and has its own housekeeper when there are guests. Its roof has an infinity pool and the kitchen is fully stocked.
“This is lovely,” Mom says as we sit down in the enormous living room.
She and I sink into the plushy couch under ceiling fans and pricey recessed light fixtures. Simon takes a padded chair near the fireplace, placing his arms on the roundly upholstered rests.
“His parents are interesting.” His tone says “interesting” isn’t the word he really wants to use.
“At least he’s forceful,” Mom adds, shooting a quick glance at Simon.
I paste on a bright smile for everyone’s benefit. “He is, isn’t he? And don’t worry, Simon. Julian and Tiffany rarely visit. Actually they never do.”
Simon isn’t satisfied. “Won’t you have to spend some of the holidays with them?”
“Not really. I should be able to spend as much time as I want with you during holidays. Ryder likes to go overseas, but if you want, we can ask him to spend some time in Sweet Hope. I’m sure he’d love that.” I feel awful that I’m basically leading them on, but technically I’m not lying. We’re only marrying for a year, so I can spend my holidays with whomever I choose.
Mom pats my hand. “I think we’re just worried because this isn’t like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ryder just…well, he doesn’t seem like the type of man you’d want. He’s a big star with a…well, a certain reputation. Even if most of what they say about him isn’t true, some of it is, isn’t it?” She sighs softly. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I force a laugh. “Mom, please. You saw how he immediately came to my defense against his stepmother. Do you think he’s the kind of man who would hurt me?”
“Maybe not, but I don’t like his father,” Simon says. “That Julian character looks like a piece of work. What did he say to Ryder before he left to upset him?”
“Oh, just some old family business,” I say quickly. “The usual stuff. When you’re related, you know all the ways you can press someone’s buttons.”
He tilts his head, his brows pinched, but doesn’t press for more.
It’s Mom who says, “Parents should support and encourage their children, not try to get a rise out of them.”
I put an arm around Mom’s narrow shoulders and squeeze. “I know, and honestly, I don’t like Julian either. But like I said, I can keep my distance. So don’t worry about me, okay? You should just have a great time during your stay. As a matter of fact, I’ll arrange for a day tour for both of you tomorrow. It’ll be fun.”
Even as I offer, guilt twists in my belly. I’m not doing it just to make them happy, but to ensure they’ll be too busy to realize anything is amiss. I didn’t expect them to notice anything was wrong between me and Ryder, but I’d forgotten how sharp they are. It’s been so long since I tried to sneak anything past them.
Simon shrugs gamely. “If that’s what you want, sure. We’d love that.”
After exchanging hugs, I leave, my heart heavy. They didn’t buy a thing I said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ryder
I hear Paige’s footsteps through the open doors, and glance at the clock on the wall. Barely an hour since she took her family to the guest house.
I stick my head out in the hallway. “Everything okay?”
“My parents were tired, so I decided to come back early.” She looks away, then sighs heavily. “You shouldn’t have invited them.” She turns, the muscles around her neck tensing. “I told you I don’t want them here until right before the wedding.”
“I thought you’d like spending time with them.”
“Yes, but…” She looks around, then slips into my room and closes the door. “Look, Ryder. I don’t want to lie to them—especially not right to their face—any more than I have to.” If she were a cat, her back would be arched in aggravation. “I’m not very good at acting.”
Shit. She’s totally right. “I’m sorry. I didn’t consider that.”
My easy surrender deflates her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with them.”
“If you want, I can come up with a good excuse to have them all shipped out first thing tomorrow morning.”
“No, tomorrow’s our engagement party, and I already promised to arrange for a tour for them.” She shakes her head. “Just forget it. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” I say. “I hate to see you upset like this.” I put my arms around her from behind and pull her deeper into my suite. “Just so you know, Julian and Wife Number Six aren’t invited to the party. If they show up, security’s instructed to toss them out.”
“Don’t. They’re still your family, and it’ll only cause a scene. It’s a big party. Let them in. We can just avoid seeing them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I bury my face in her neck. She smells amazing. “You’re tense.”
“It’s been a long day.”
Which is also my fault. I shouldn’t have forced her to deal with my family in front of hers like that, and I should’ve anticipated how things could go wrong. I want to pretend it was for her, but really it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have subjected her to the whole mess just to satisfy my curiosity. I wouldn’t have liked it if the situation had been reversed.
She puts her hands on my shoulders. “You’re tense, too.” She pauses for a moment, looking from one of my eyes to the other, then finally says, “Who’s Lauren?”
I go still. I was hoping to distract her with the talk of her family and maybe even sex. But Paige is too smart. And I can’t exactly avoid a direct question like this. “Someone I knew.”
“Well, yes, I kind of assumed that. What happened between the two of you that every time Julian mentions her you go all volcanic?”
Dragging a hand through my hair, I pull back. I can’t talk about the ugliness when I’m so close to her. The very act of voicing it seems like it would taint Paige.
She waits, her arms still on me, her expression open and curious. But if she hears what happened, she’ll recoil for sure. It’s a fucked up story, made worse by the fact that I let it ruin my friendship.
“Ryder…?”
“It’s an old story,” I say. “Nobody even remembers anymore, except Julian. He just likes to talk about it because it didn’t end well.”
Paige doesn’t buy that, not fully.
“Let me make you feel good, baby.” I press my body against hers, fitting myself against her soft, sweet curves.
Her hands clench around my shoulders, and I bury my face in her neck and inhale gently. She’s sensitive there, and shivers run through her. I run my mouth over the graceful line of her neck, licking and sucking. Her breathing grows shallow.
“I know what you’re doing,” she murmurs.
“Of course you do. But I’d
rather make you feel good than to talk about a bunch of nasty crap that happened years ago. It has no bearing on us.” I pause. “Don’t you trust me?”
She pushes at me until I pull away enough so that she can look me in the eyes. I gaze back at her, trying for total honesty. The stuff that happened between me and Lauren is old news, and it isn’t like she’s going to come back to cause us trouble.
Except Anthony’s back in town.
The thought flashes through my mind, and a small ball of apprehension settles in my stomach.
“You aren’t telling me everything,” Paige says.
Damn it.
Closing my eyes briefly, I debate how much to reveal. Maybe just enough to satisfy her curiosity…but not the whole sordid deal.
“Lauren was a model and an aspiring actress,” I began, keeping my voice emotionless. Facts only. “She and I dated seven years ago. I was on the rise back then, and she was young and dazzling. I didn’t realize it, but she approached me for help with her career…and she was also dating someone else at the time.”
Paige gasps and puts a hand over mine. I don’t react. I won’t accept her sympathy. I can’t.
“She was a drug addict, which I also didn’t realize in the beginning. I…didn’t know what signs to look for. Eventually, she died of an overdose,” I say, glossing over the exact circumstances surrounding her death. It was much worse than just snorting a little too much coke.
“I’m sorry.” Paige puts her arms around me in comfort, and it only makes me feel like a fraud.
I don’t want to think about Lauren or have Paige feel sorry for me because of what happened. I’d rather much have her feel something else.
I turn her slowly until we’re facing a mirror on the wall. I originally put it up so I could practice my expressions and delivery when I was new to the business. Never had it removed though, because it’s good for certain other occasions. Like now. My hand grips the back of her neck, not hard but firm so she knows I’m ready to move on to something much more enticing and productive than dwelling on my past.
Her eyelids flutter. “Ryder…”
“No more talking.” I lick the gentle line of her neck, then press kisses along the smooth flesh. Her soft curves drive me insane. “You don’t know how much I love your body. I think about it all the time.”
I want to make her forget the crappy evening and what I just told her. Her day should end on a high note, especially the night before our engagement party.
My dick hardens, pushing against her gorgeous ass, at the way her breath turns shallow with need. She moves against me; I push the small jacket off her shoulders and it lands on the floor in a heap. The dark, hot-pink dress underneath is sleeveless and strapless, with nothing but a tiny zipper on the bodice holding it up. She looks like a luscious treat dipped in raspberry syrup.
“Put your hands against the mirror,” I whisper hotly in her ear.
She obeys. I tap her feet gently with mine, and she spreads them. Her calves flex.
I like this position. It seems slightly submissive on her part and gives me easy access to everything. The skirt is loose around her, and it’s perfect. I make a mental note to give Josephine a hefty bonus.
I unbutton my shirt. I want to take it all off and get Paige naked. But I don’t. I know better. The dinner killed my foolish dream from last night and confirmed something that’s been nagging at me all along—that I honestly have nothing to offer to anyone except money and fame. And neither of those is forever. I’ve seen how one of my uncles died broke—shocking, since he inherited millions—and Hollywood is littered with has-beens, once-famous derelicts who nobody recognizes anymore.
Paige is the kind of girl who deserves far more.
She deserves love. She deserves respect. And she deserves to be around people who won’t try to use her to fuck with me. I can’t forget how coolly Dad was assessing her, all evening long…and he wasn’t thinking about whether or not the marriage will be good for us. He was looking for signs of weakness to exploit.
I don’t want to put Paige in the middle of his spiteful little war.
I slowly unzip her dress. As the raw silk parts and reveals her spine, I kiss it inch by inch. Shudders run through her. I bunch the skirt up…and almost have a stroke. The thong is nothing but a string of seed pearls, and suddenly I’m hard enough to crack concrete. I run my hand along the lush curve. Her back arches, silently pushing her ass my way for more.
The bodice falls around her waist and her tits come free. They’re stunning in their perfection. I always knew she had a great rack, but they’re even better naked. I can’t help but reach for them, feel their weight and shape in my hands. Heavy, soft…responsive. Her rosy nipples harden, becoming more pointed.
“Ryder…”
She moves back and forth, rubbing her tits against my callused palms. Her nipples drag across my skin, and she lets out ragged breaths.
And it is not enough.
I pinch and release them, over and over, each successive time harder than before. Instead of protesting she thrusts her breasts into my hands, whimpering with need. Her face is flushed, and I can see the pulse in her neck beating rapidly. I turn her around and pull all that soft, sensitive flesh into my mouth. The tip of my tongue teases her nipple, and her hands plunge into my hair. Her legs shake.
I let the breast out with a pop, letting the edge of my teeth scrape the pointed peak. She groans loudly, then her knees buckle. She leans against the mirror for support, and I give the same loving attention to the other tit.
Her scent intoxicates me, the sound of her moan a drug. I run my nails along her thighs, starting from her knees all the way to the apex. Her juices soak me.
Fuck, that’s hot.
My dick’s so hard it hurts. I want nothing more than to shove it into her juicy depths and lose myself in her. Except I’m self-aware enough to realize this would be a problem.
I want her too much.
Even though I can’t give her anything but money and fame, I still want her. I want the first thing she does in the morning to be smiling at me, soft eyes heavy with sleep, and the last thing at night to be screaming my name as she comes in my arms.
The thing is, she’ll run like hell if she learns all there is to know about me. She knows all the public stuff, of course, and she believes most of it is fake—which is true. But the press knows far less than she realizes, and I have some very ugly secrets.
The woman I wanted before suffered ruination and death. How could I have forgotten that last night? How could I have spun that ridiculous fantasy about a future beyond our contract marriage?
I shrug out of my shirt and toss it in front of me. Paige is a quivering mass of desire now.
“Ryder, please. I want to feel you inside me.”
I let go of her breast. I can’t have her talk like that. It’ll only weaken my already pathetic resolve.
After tearing the pearl strip on the thong, I finger her sopping lips then spread them apart. Her clit’s swollen and flushed, and anticipation boils in my blood. I put my mouth there. I never got a chance to do much in the lawyer’s office, but now we’re private and have plenty of time.
With every lick, every suck, I note Paige’s response. The muscles in her belly flutter, and she widens her legs when I let my teeth nip her gently. I rub her clit with the small pearls on the strip of her thong, and she goes wild, bucking against me.
“Oh my god, Ryder…”
She thrusts her pelvis into my face, utterly shameless in her passion. Impossibly, my dick seems to swell even more, until it feels like it’s only seconds from bursting.
I thrust my tongue into her dripping pussy and grip my cock. My hand is wet with her juices, and I close my eyes at the sensation. It’s good. Probably not as great as being inside her, but coming with my mouth on her is pretty close.
Her breasts rise and fall rapidly, her breathing rough. She’s close, but needs a little bit more… I move my mouth back to her clit and dip two
fingers into her. Her greedy inner muscles grip me.
“Yes, yes…”
I finger fuck her, making sure to hit her G-spot with every thrust. Her eyes are shut, and mounting pleasure twists her face.
I should get an artist to paint her like this.
A split second before an orgasm crashes through her, she opens her mouth, and I wish I could put my dick in there, watch those gorgeous lips close around my shaft.
She lets out a soundless scream, holding my head to her pelvis with one hand, bucking against me and the mirror. Her hair sticks to her skin…and then all her lines resettle into something soft and relaxed.
And I can’t stop myself. My hands rough and impatient, I unbuckle my belt and rip my pants off. Then I pull her down to me and groan at how amazing her naked body feels against mine. Her lips curve softly.
Before she opens her eyes, I thrust into her. I can barely breathe as her slick heat clenches around my dick. I’ve never felt anything this good, this right. It’s like she’s been made just for me.
I maintain a good pace, needing to feel her come with my cock in her pussy. I want at least that much if I can’t have any kind of forever.
She’s so primed, she climaxes again almost immediately, her pelvis pushing against me, demanding deeper and harder penetration. I give it to her…feel my balls tighten…
My teeth clench as a titanic orgasm wrings me dry. I feel like I’m one with her in the truest sense, something I’ve never felt with any other woman.
Moments pass, and I can breathe more normally again. I lift her into my arms and take her to my bed. Even though I know there’s an expiration date to all this, I can’t bear the idea of sleeping alone.
“Hey, put me down.”
“Nope. I’m carrying my woman to bed.”
“But housekeeping—”
Placing her on my bed, I put a finger on the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry. They know we aren’t celibate.”
She flushes.
“They expect us to be all lovey dovey, babe.”
The light in her eyes dims. It’s a shitty thing to mention our arrangement, but I had to say it out loud to remind myself of what we’re doing. This is just a year of show.