Billionaire's Fake Fiancee

by Eva Luxe

  Brent smiles, and continues. His voice is more confident now. “Anyway, one day, I’m there, walking around the pond, and…ah, I come to the little statue…there’s a little statue there, of—”

  “Of Carolyn Kizer.” I chime in. “She’s my favorite poet, and most people don’t remember her. She even won the Nobel Prize. And for some reason, somebody decided to put a bust up in this little park in New York City. My friends told me about it and I had to go there.”

  “So, I come by, and there’s this woman sitting there, reading from a book in front of this random statue.”

  “It was Amelia!” Tammi guesses, pointing at me and then placing her hand over her heart, obviously proud of herself. “That was the very first time you ever saw her.”

  “Yes,” Brent continues, pointing at her and winking, as if congratulating on her on getting it. She curtsies, and I can’t help but smile. He’s so adorable, even though I wish he wasn’t. “Our very own Amelia was sitting there, reading a book, although I didn’t know her then, because it was the first time I ever saw her. And I don’t want to bother her - or for her to bother me, honestly - so I try to give her plenty of space walking by. Only I go too far, and the bank under my feet just disappears, and I fall into the pond. Not my finest hour.”

  “But I thought it was cute.” Chiming in on this fake little tale is getting easier now. “And it was fall - the water was freezing! Once he got the mud off him, I took him for a cup of coffee…and the rest is history. Here we are now. Engaged..”

  “Engaged,” Brent repeats, nodding. He and I steal a glance at each other under cover of Tammi’s delighted squeal. That was easier than I’d thought it was going to be! Although I get the sense that it doesn’t take much to fool Tammi.

  Chapter 19 – Amelia

  Now that we’ve made up a story that satisfies Tammi’s unbridled curiosity, Brent and I can actually focus on the tour of the venue. We pass beautiful vineyards outside and then walk around the most decorated ballrooms I’ve ever seen, inside.

  By the time the tour’s over, Tammi and her grunting fiancé have gotten distracted by the “how we met” story of one of the other couples - and I’ve succeeded in keeping myself distracted from the reminders that my wedding here would have been spectacular…and to the wrong guy.

  “Thank you all very much for your time here!” the tour guide calls from the front of the group as we mingle in the “Peaceful Gardens” area behind the main house. “You can all collect your gift bags on the way out…and please enjoy a glass of complimentary champagne here in the Gardens before you go.”

  “Free booze?” Brent looks at me, smiling.

  “Do you even have to ask?” I toss the words back over my shoulder as I pull him towards the tables of fancy glasses of champagne.

  “Oooh, these are even real glass!” he coos, sounding impressed.

  Champagne isn’t my first drink of choice, but damn if this stuff isn’t good.

  Brent grabs his own glass, then pulls out his phone. “Hey, will you do me a favor and take a picture of me?”

  “What, nobody ever taught you to take a selfie?”

  “Do I look like a Baby Boomer to you? I’m a proud millennial, no matter what kind of bad reputation we have. I just need both hands for this, that’s all.”

  “Okay, fine!” I take his phone and set up the picture - at which point Brent drinks from his glass and gives the camera the middle finger at the same time.

  “Do I even want to know?” I hand the phone back.

  “Eh. Just a little ‘thank you’ to the woman that was supposed to be here with me. You know how it is. Live and let them fuck off. That’s the saying, right?”

  “Oh, definitely.” I regard him with raised eyebrows. “Hey, is that park you were talking about real?”

  Brent looks away. “Is that ring on your finger real?”

  He looks almost hurt.

  Shit. Way to ruin it, Amelia.

  “Yes and no. It’s real, but there’s no one attached to it. Not anymore, anyway.” I clear my throat and do my best not to look into his gorgeous eyes. “Not that it matters to you.”

  “In that case, want me to take a photo for you to send to your ex too?”

  “What good would that do?” Part of me wants to just go for it, but that part is already mostly exhausted from pretending for the last several hours.

  “I dunno. Sure helps me. Feeds my bitterness, and all that.” Brent finishes his champagne in a gulp, then meets my eyes. “Speaking of feeding things. Do you want to come back to my place with me?”

  “Your place? Why would I—” I stop myself, because I know exactly why.

  I don’t say anything.

  “Okay then. It was worth a shot.” Brent sets his glass down on the table. I can tell he’s about to leave, and that he isn’t a guy who is going to beg me to go with him when I haven’t responded enthusiastically - and suddenly, I don’t want him to. I grab his hand as it leaves the glass.

  Then I kiss him.

  Chapter 20 – Brent

  She kisses me. I wasn’t really expecting my question about taking her home to work, but I’m a firm believer in the old adage that you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, and I like to fucking take what I want. So, I’m definitely not disappointed that it did work. Especially because it helps me head off the embarrassment of leaving alone, and helps me ignore the twinges of jealousy I’d been feeling every time the light glinted off that diamond ring on her finger.

  Jealousy? Over some woman whose name I’d just learned? If I think about it too hard, I’ll have to admit it doesn’t make much sense. So, I stop thinking about it, and start kissing her back.

  My tongue feels so good encircled with hers again that I wish I could pick her up and throw her over my shoulders and carry her to my bed right here and now. Then tie her to it and have my way with her until she can’t take it anymore.

  “Oh, look at you two lovebirds. So adorable!” Tammi’s somehow at our elbows, double-fisting champagne flutes.

  Amelia stops nibbling on my neck long enough to whisper to me, “If you want a second helping, get us out of here. Now.” She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

  “It was wonderful to meet you, but we’re - ohhh - we’re actually late for another appointment. Gotta run!” I don’t bother to say anything more, just grab Amelia’s hand and head out the garden exit to the street.

  Tammi watches us until we’re around the corner, bewilderment stamped on her face. Apparently, how we could want to do the horizontal mambo in private instead of neck in front of her is beyond the woman’s capacity to understand.

  I order an Uber on my phone app with one hand while keeping my other hand firmly wrapped around Amelia’s waist, thoroughly enjoying the attention she’s still giving my neck. She’s kissing it, nibbling on it, circling her tongue around it. It’s driving me fucking crazy all right.

  When the car arrives (only two minutes later, thank God), we slide into the backseat together and proceed to ignore the driver and the rosary dangling from his rearview mirror completely. Amelia’s hand captures mine and guides it up and down her leg, teasing me with each inch closer she lets me get to the top of her thigh. I run my tongue along her ear, with just a gentle bite here and there, and her short, sharp breaths let me know that this is a good choice. She likes it as much as I liked what she was doing to my neck.

  Her hand is between my legs, down low, squeezing my thigh. I had a fantasy like this as a teenager - although at the time, it involved Susie Carson and the back row of a movie theater. This is better. Much better.

  Amelia takes her hand from my thigh and brushes her hand over the fabric between my legs. By now it’s no mystery where my hard cock is, and she takes full advantage of this knowledge by running a single finger along it. Even through the two layers of fabric, her touch is electrifying, and I start taking my own short, sharp breaths.

  “Here we are.” The driver pulls to the curb outside my building.r />
  Riding in a car in the City is usually a nightmare, but this time, I hadn’t even noticed how long the drive was. I manage a quick ‘thanks’ to the driver, and follow Amelia out of the car - not missing the fact that on her side of the leather backseat, there’s a definite wet spot. On the other hand, I can’t blame her, since I have to do a little “adjustment shuffle” on my way out of the car to hide my erection.

  “My place is up on the top floor.” I punch in the access code to the building, and take Amelia’s hand on the way in.

  She hasn’t said anything since we left the gardens, but she doesn’t need to. Our minds are headed to the same place. The same filthy, dirty place. And I can’t wait to get there in real life with her.

  Chapter 21 – Brent

  In the elevator, she takes my hand and puts it underneath her skirt as she kisses me. I can feel the warmth of her, through her panties, and she kisses me harder, biting my lip, drawing me in - the same way she did the night before. My hands slide up to her breasts, and I tease her, pressing her against the wall and holding her back from touching me while I massage her big breasts.

  The elevator chimes, and the hallway in front of us is empty. “This way.” I lead her down the hall to my apartment door, while her hands wander all over me. We kiss as I struggle with the lock - it finally clicks open - and we stagger into my place, a tangled whirl of lips and hands and half removed clothing.

  Thank God Nikki didn’t decide to pop in, is the last thought I have before Amelia starts undressing me. My shirt comes off, and she licks and kisses her way down my torso. My hands are in her hair, twining and twisting, holding her mouth against my skin. Then I pull her dress down and remove her bra so I can see her gorgeous tits.

  “You are absolutely beautiful,” I tell her. “I’m so glad we’re doing this again.

  “Me too.”

  She is nearly panting with desire for me, and can hardly talk. She’s running her hands up and down my pecs, my stomach, my tattoos. I bite her, playful nibbles at first and then more aggressively, dragging my teeth across her tits before sucking on her perfectly erect nipples, claiming her like some animal marking my territory.

  She reaches around and grabs a hold of my ass. I like it—she’s reversing my own move, and I’ve never been with a girl bold enough to do that before. I moan, and she chuckles - not mockingly, but with pleasure. The vibrations of her breath tingle against my ribs.

  Her dress comes off - so do my pants - and we’re standing, her pressing me back against the door, grinding against each other like teenagers at a school dance. Except there’s no old religious prude of a teacher here to tell us to “leave room for the holy spirit”.

  There’s certainly a spirit in the room, and it’s anything but holy. Amelia pulls me away from the door and drops on to the couch, grinning at me. “What? I’m not doing all the work on my own, you know.”

  I drop to my knees (at a perfect level) and begin kissing and caressing her thighs. Her back arches, hips pulsing slowly with each touch and kiss. I bite down hard on the fleshy inside of her thigh, and she cries out.

  “Sorry, was that too - ” I start to say.

  “No! No. If it’s too much, I’ll tell you. Otherwise don’t you dare stop.”

  I slide her panties down her legs and leave them on the floor, continuing my trip to the center of her body. She’s got her hand in my hair now, and guides my head between her thighs. Her lips are delicious, the taste surprisingly sharp, almost bitter. I flick my tongue against them, teasing, testing, exploring.

  Her hips tilt towards me, demanding more, so I give it to her. I kiss my way along her slit, darting my tongue out to taste her sweet pussy, parting her lips and pressing my tongue to the wet flesh underneath. Swirl, lick, taste, suck over and over again, enjoying the pull on my hair as her hand tightens into a fist, relaxes, tightens again.

  She puts her legs on my shoulders, pressing my head deeper into her pussy, and I slide a finger, then two, inside her. Come here, I gesture with them, curling my fingers again and again, hearing her moans intensify as she writhes in place.

  Amelia pulls my head up, kissing me furiously as her hands find my cock and she wraps her legs around mine, pulling me onto the couch on top of her. My hand manages to trace its way to my pants pocket where I find a condom and unwrap it quickly, ready to get to the good stuff. No, it’s all been good, great even. I’m ready to get to the amazing stuff. I taste copper on my lip as her hand puts me inside her, and I sink balls-deep almost instantly.

  No time for subtlety now - I brace myself on my forearms and thrust, quick and hard, heart pounding and thoughts racing toward just one thing. Her hands are entwined around my neck, her legs around my waist, and I feel her thighs begin to tremble.

  “Fuck yes! Right there right there right there - Ohhh.” Her hips buck uncontrollably, her body shaking with orgasm - and her cries nearly push me over the edge.

  I love how she lets herself go with me. It’s all I can do to hold back and remain in control. I stick my finger into her mouth and she sucks on it while I fuck her wet, spasming pussy some more. I fill her up to her brim, and she squeezes her pussy so that I’m even deeper and tighter inside her.

  I look down at my cock entering and exiting her pussy as I thrust it in and out. I drive my hips against her one more time, and feel myself begin to shake as I cum with her legs holding me deep inside her.

  “Holy shit.” Her legs relax, and I ease off of her. “We’re kinda good at that, huh?”

  Amelia laughs, but sits up and pulls her panties back on. “I should probably go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if I stay, you’re going to get to watch me start to question everything and apologize for taking advantage of you and also can I use your bathroom before I go?”

  “Amelia, relax! You didn’t take advantage of me. I wanted this too. Both times.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I? You helped me fake my way through that tour…and you give really good blowjobs.”

  She gives me the finger and walks to the bathroom, but she’s not in a rush anymore.

  When she comes back out, she settles back in next to me. “God, that Tammi woman was horrible, huh?”

  “I give it three months before her husband gets arrested for literally feeding her to sharks or something.”

  She edges closer, puts my arm around her shoulders. “Hey. So I don’t want to pry or whatever, but that picture you took? It was for your ex?”

  My heart jumps a bit. Talking about Kelly always makes me feel a little guilty, and a little sad. But I’m still naked and sweaty, and so is Amelia…so maybe a little honesty is okay. Just a little.

  I decide to tell her. Why the hell not? I’ve done everything else with her in the past two days that two people can do together. We might as well try actually talking.

  Chapter 22 – Brent

  “Yeah,” I admit, in answer to Amelia’s question. “We were together for a few years. Got engaged, started planning the wedding…and then she dumped me. If there was paperwork, I expect it’d say ‘irreconcilable differences’, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. I think it means—different priorities, or goals.”

  “How so?” Amelia asks.

  “I was a venture capitalist and I backed a tech app that made me really filthy rich,” I tell her.

  This isn’t something I usually tell women on the first date. Or second date. Or whatever number date this would be, considering that Amelia and I have never even gone on an official date. I’ve learned to be on the lookout for gold diggers. But something’s different about Amelia. Or about her and me together. I feel safe with her, and able to open up more than I normally would.

  “Well, well, well,” she says, smiling. “So, you don’t really need all that free stuff you get from the wedding venues, huh?”

  “Nope,” I admit. “And my friend Nikki reminds me of that all the time. I don’t really need anything at all, financially speak
ing. That’s why I decided to retire young and do what I truly love—making art.”

  “Wow,” Amelia whistles, tilting her head to look at me. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “Thanks.” I tell her.

  “I guess your ex didn’t think so,” she adds.

  Now it’s my turn to smile. That had been my thought exactly, but I hadn’t wanted to bring it up. I nod. “She didn’t exactly see herself as the wife of an artist. She thought that even though we had tons of money, I should go slave away making even more. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I thought she’d understand and want me to be happy, but…it didn’t work out that way. C’est la vie, ne c’est pas?”

  Amelia looks at me sympathetically. “If it makes you feel better…I got dumped too. Also by my fiancé. I don’t know what our papers would say. Probably ‘Jason is an incurable douchebag who sleeps with other people.’”

  “Huh. I guess we have more in common than just enjoying getting naked together.”

  Amelia grins, running her fingers across my thigh. “Wait. If you got dumped, why were you still at the venue tour?”

  “I could ask you the same thing, Miss Engagement Ring.”

  “You could. And I might even answer. But I asked you first, so…” She chooses that moment to cup my balls in her hand, giving them a squeeze.

  “That. Is a mean trick.” I manage. She squeezes again. “Okay. Honestly? It’s because we already paid for all these wedding venue tours, food tastings, all that shit. Before we broke up. And none of it is refundable. So, I’m trying to get what little joy I can out of this whole hot mess. I figured, if I’m going to be alone, rather than losing several thousand dollars in non-refundable deposits, I’m going to eat cake, taste wine, and get free stuff on the way. Even though, as you and Nikki like to point out, I don’t need to do it. I just want to.” I shrug.