My Playboy Fiance: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance

by Katerina Cole

  We had always pushed the other to be a better competitor. And it worked. Like now, I wasn’t only trying to get open and dodge the defender, I was trying to be Luke’s main target. I wanted that ball.

  I switched and dodged. The sweat ran in my eye as I looked right into the sun. But the ball was coming toward me and I knew if I wanted passes during games, I had to put it o the line at practice.

  I hurled myself forward, yanking the ball to my chest. I cradled it next to my ribs as I landed hard. My helmet bounced as I rolled on my back. Shit that was a hard landing. I held the ball in the air.

  “Got it.”

  I laughed. I could hear them talking all around me. It was a hell of an athletic catch. The best play we’d run all week.

  “Good one,” Luke called. “Let’s do it again.”

  I hopped up from the field, brushing the grass from my practice jersey.

  “Nice.” Isaac threw me a thumbs-up from across the field. I’d do it again. I’d run it over and over if it meant that play turned into points on the scoreboard.

  “Let’s go, ladies,” Luke screamed.

  I walked to the line of scrimmage. This was what I was meant to do. My hands twitched. And out of nowhere it him me. Maybe I was meant for something else. Maybe I was meant for Vanessa McCade.

  23

  Vanessa

  I’d never been to the Sports Now studios before. Their main station was in New York, but they kept satellite offices in cities that had more than one professional team. The Austin building wasn’t much bigger than the local news station, but it had a completely different feel. It was plastered in sports memorabilia.

  I walked through the halls, staring at the framed Warriors jerseys and Austin’s baseball stars’ portraits. It had been a while since I had gone to the ballpark.

  “Hey, there you are, darlin’.”

  I turned as Dylan walked toward me. He looked sexy as hell. He was wearing a dark charcoal suit that was cut and fit him perfectly. It looked expensive. His eyes were brighter. Greener.

  “Hey. How was practice? Where’s Isaac?” I looked around him for the other man who had stolen every part of my logic.

  “Talking to Trip Steiner in the lobby.”

  “Ahh.” Trip was the Warriors’ play-by-play caller on the local station.

  “Ready to do this?” He tangled his fingers through mine and raised my left hand between us.

  “I think so.”

  He tugged me toward him. My heels tipped as I leaned into his body. I felt the vibrations rumble through his chest.

  “You know I only went through with this for one reason,” he whispered.

  I shook my head. “No, what was that?” My body raced with electricity. We were alone in the hallway.

  His other hand wrapped around my waist, locking against my hip. “So I could have you whenever I want,” he answered.

  I saw the devilish gleam in his eye.

  “But I thought I was your boss?” I teased.

  He brushed his lips over mine, dipping his tongue into my mouth. “Who was the boss last night?” he growled lowly.

  My heart beat rapidly. My core twinged with the memory of being taken not once, but twice. Remembering what it felt like to be fucked by both of them, one after the other until my body felt nothing but magical pleasure.

  “You,” I answered, knowing I was getting wetter by the second. “And Isaac.”

  He nodded. “That’s right.” He brushed the hair from my cheek. “We own you, darlin’.”

  “Mmmhmm.” I waited for his mouth again. My lips parted as he kissed me, shoving me against the wall. My back slammed into one of the framed prints, but I didn’t care. I’d lost all reason. Kissing Dylan was everything.

  Everything about him was physical and strong. He took what he wanted. There was no hesitation. No doubt in his movements. His tongue stroked mine like a fucking kissing expert.

  “Excuse me. Umm…Miss McCade?”

  Dylan pressed his forehead to mine. “Fuck that was hot,” he whispered in my ear. He took a step back so I could compose myself.

  “Yes?” I was embarrassed we had been caught, but I realized I shouldn’t have been. He was my fiancé, after all.

  “It’s time for makeup. We start taping in fifteen.” The assistant held her clipboard to her hip.

  “Thank you.”

  “You can come with me.” She eyed Dylan. He had turned so she couldn’t see how his hard cock stretched the expensive suit pants he wore. “And Jeannette will be back to find you next.”

  “Good to know.”

  I waved at him as I followed her around the corner to the makeup chair.

  “Sorry about that,” the girl apologized.

  “It’s ok. We should have been more professional. I wasn’t thinking.”

  She giggled. “If I had a fiancé like that, especially if he were Dylan James, the last thing I would care about was being professional.”

  I smiled. She wasn’t completely wrong.

  The lights were brighter than I expected. I squinted a few times trying to adjust to the all the angles shining on us.

  I took a deep breath. Dylan was laughing with Chantel about some miraculous play he made last season. I knew she didn’t work out of Austin. I was expecting someone with less star power from the network. We were a story, but did we warrant Chantel Morris flying in from New York?

  I didn’t know why I felt as if there were an elephant sitting on my chest. The sound tech was fidgeting with the mic he’d attached to inside lining of my dress. He patted it a second time to make sure it was secure.

  I realized how comfortable Dylan was in this scenario. He was one of those players that loved the attention he received. He seemed to be able to control his narrative. Even the partying. Despite the women and the drinking—they loved him. Maybe it was why they loved him. He was always comfortable in his own skin. He lived life the way he wanted to without hesitation.

  I hoped some of that would rub off on me in this interview. I was out of my element. I tried to look past the glare of the lights. I saw a dark silhouette near the camera. Isaac.

  I sighed. He was here. Just like he promised. There was something steadying about his presence. I smiled into the camera’s perimeter, hoping he knew it was for him.

  Chantel stopped abruptly. “It’s time? We’re on?”

  The producer pointed to us. “We’re counting down, everyone.”

  Dylan straightened his tie. The butterflies were attacking my stomach. I wasn’t sure why I had agreed to do this.

  “Good evening, I’m Chantel Morris. Tonight we have an exclusive interview with Warriors owner Vanessa McCade and Warriors wide receiver Dylan James. They made a startling announcement today that shocked the sports world.” Chantel paused. “At a team press conference the Warriors press director revealed that Vanessa and Dylan are in fact engaged to be married.”

  I felt my stomach flip. My mouth went dry. I didn’t know how Dylan could stay calm. I knew I’d already wasted that extra powder the makeup artist had dotted on my nose.

  “So, you two…” Chantel turned from the cameras and faced us. “What a story!” She grinned. “Everyone is talking about this engagement. It’s certainly unprecedented in the AFA. What has your day been like since you shared the news?”

  Her eyes pressed into me.

  I blinked several times. “Everyone has congratulated us. I think they’re excited for us.” I looked at Dylan.

  He squeezed my knee. “Oh yeah. The guys are behind us a hundred percent.”

  Chantel nodded. “You have to admit this isn’t the most typical relationship. Excuse the expression, but ownership getting into bed with the players’ side of things is unheard of.”

  I knew my cheeks were instantly red. She said players and bed in the same sentence. I’d had two players in my bed last night. I was a complete immoral slut of an owner. My knees started to shake. The lights felt hot, not just blinding.

  Dylan stepped up while
I fought to find words. “I don’t think either of us expected our friendship to lead here.”

  “So you two were friends first?” Chantel prodded.

  “Oh yeah.” Dylan grinned.

  “Do you have friendships with lots of the players?” Chantel raised her eyebrows. “Is that why Isaac Price is with us in studio tonight?” She looked off to the side.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I was sinking. I couldn’t even get a sentence together. Dylan moved his hand from my knee to around my shoulder.

  “Actually, he’s here because I asked him to ride over with me after practice,” Dylan explained. “The Warriors are a family. He’s here to support both of us.”

  Chantel flipped a page in her notes, moving right to the next question. She didn’t dwell on conversations. Apparently, she saved that for when the cameras were off. This was her time to pull as much information out of us as possible.

  “Are you worried, Vanessa, that the other players on the team will perceive it las you are giving Dylan preferential treatment? He will after all be married to the team’s owner.”

  I shook my head. “We have their full support. They’re happy for us.”

  “But will Dylan become part-owner? How does that look for the legal arrangement in your marriage?”

  I was prepared for this part. Steve had been explicit with how to answer the legal questions.

  “The Warriors have been a part of my family heritage. Dylan wants to focus on his career. He can’t do that and run the franchise.”

  “Yeah,” he added. “I’ll leave the family business in Vanessa’s hands.”

  “Does that mean you’re willing to sign a pre-nup to that effect?” she pried.

  I was starting to dislike Chantel Morris. Where were the questions about the romantic proposal? Why wasn’t she asking if I wanted to be a June bride?

  Dylan’s voice deepened. “I’m willing to do whatever the Warriors need.”

  “Does that mean you’re making decisions in your relationship based on the Warriors franchise?”

  “No, I didn’t say that.” Dylan clenched his teeth in an awkward smile. “What I’m saying is that we don’t want our engagement to be anything but a good thing for the team. I’ll sign a pre-nup if that makes the team more secure.”

  Chantel nodded her head. “That sounds noble of you, Dylan.”

  I could only imagine what Steve was thinking as he watched the optics on this interview unravel.

  “In the weeks since your grandfather’s death there have been reports that the transition of team ownership may not have been as smooth as the fans were led to believe.” Chantel held up a piece of paper. “You have an older brother, Daniel McCade who was the original heir to the franchise, isn’t that correct?”

  I had no idea where she was going with this question. It didn’t sound good.

  “Yes, but the transition has been completed and I have really settled in at the Warriors offices.”

  Chantel didn’t let up. “My understanding from an inside source is that your brother does have a legal claim to the team if he did choose to contest the will.” I was going to lose it. Possibly throw up on the set. “Dylan, if Vanessa was no longer the team’s owner, would that change things for you?”

  Holy shit. Who was this woman? A one-woman wrecking ball?

  “Come on, Chantel. You can’t ask a newly engaged man something like that.” He pulled me closer to him. “Look at her. She’s gorgeous. Smart. Gifted in so many ways. I didn’t ask her to marry me because of her last name. Let’s get that out there right now. No matter what happens, I’m going to play ball and I’m going to marry this woman. Got that?”

  I stared at Dylan. I knew it was a charade. I knew we had concocted this entire story to save the Warriors, but I felt as if he had just saved me. He had rescued me from the hole in the floor that was swallowing me up, starting with my designer heels.

  Chantel’s eyes widened. “Well, for my viewers, if you’re looking for a real-life love story, I think we’ve found it. We’ll be back with Vanessa and Dylan after this break. I want to hear all the wedding details.” She smiled.

  The producer threw his hand forward and everyone broke their poses. The commercial break countdown clock started ticking overhead.

  Dylan glared at her. “What the hell was that, Chantel?”

  “This is Sports Now. I’m doing my job. That job includes asking important questions. We’re not at the hotel getting a drink while I’m in town for the night,” she seethed.

  Oh shit. My eyes darted between them. She was jealous. Not just sideline jealous. She was scorned jealous. Dylan had slept with her some time in the past. I had no way of knowing how long ago.

  “You two have history,” I eked.

  Chantel’s eyes hardened. “Your fiancé has history with every woman he’s met. You knew that before you said yes, didn’t you?”

  Just then Isaac strolled over. “Interesting interview.” His eyes were warm. I knew he was trying to reassure me, even though there was no way he could say anything.

  “Maybe you’d want to switch seats with me, man?” Dylan joked.

  I wished it were that easy—that I could interchange them whenever I wanted. Was that bad? Was that a terrible thought? They each gave me such different pleasure in bed, why wouldn’t it be the same when we were out of bed? I could lean on Isaac. I could count on Dylan to distract me. It made sense they complimented each other’s personalities, just like their sexual gifts did.

  “Too hot for you?” Chantel quipped.

  “No,” he shot back. “Just stick to the engagement news. Stop tearing down Vanessa.”

  “I had no idea you could be attached to one woman.” She tilted her chin as the makeup artists assaulted Chantel’s high cheekbones with the powder brush. “Maybe you’re more the marrying kind than I realized.”

  “Cut it out, Chantel,” Isaac barked. “You’re a better journalist than this. Show some class for God’s sake.”

  “These are the producers’ questions.” She ruffled her notes in his face. “I have a job to do, and that sometimes means asking questions that are uncomfortable.”

  “It’s fine.” I wanted to put an end to the bickering. “Chantel, ask me whatever you feel is necessary.”

  Both men’s heads swiveled toward me at lightning speed. “I’ve got this,” I whispered.

  She smiled, looking like one of the villainesses in a Disney movie. “See? Vanessa is fine with the questions.”

  I didn’t want to give her any more fuel. The more we resisted, the harder she was going to push back. I just wanted to get to the floral arrangements and the colors of the bridesmaid dresses. Enough with the family drama questions.

  24

  Isaac

  I stood behind the camera, watching the rest of the interview. Chantel let up after the first commercial break. She steered things toward the wedding planning and asked Vanessa questions like how she planned on balancing running a team and planning a wedding. I rolled my eyes, the more she tried to pin Vanessa into a corner.

  I knew things about that woman the rest of the world couldn’t fathom. She was stronger than she looked. She was sweet. She was kind. She had been hurt. But she was brilliant and she was driven to do the right thing. It might be what I respected about her the most.

  The Warriors may have an owner who didn’t know how to run a team, but no one else in the league had an owner who cared so much about getting it right. This girl was going to set the world on fire. We just had to give her time.

  The lights dimmed and Dylan and Vanessa handed their mics back to the sound assistant.

  “Thanks for coming in,” Chantel quipped.

  “Of course. I hope you can make it to the wedding.” Vanessa smiled before walking off the stage. She swayed over to me.

  It took everything in me, not to grab her in my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. She deserved it after what she had just been through.

  “You think the rest of it was
ok?” she asked.

  “Yeah, baby. You did great.” My chest hurt. I wanted those pillowy lips. The only way that was going to happen was if we got out of here.

  Dylan was still trying to put Chantel in her place. He was pissed she was such a bitch during the interview.

  I drew Vanessa away from the scene. She had already figured out they had fucked. No need to hear it again.

  “I have an idea.” I looked in her blue eyes. I could see how tired she was.

  “What’s that? Does it involve a hot shower and a glass of wine?”

  My cock twitched. Damn. The thought of fucking her in the shower was crippling.

  “It definitely could.” I kept my voice low. The production staff was buzzing around us, taking down the set. “Why don’t you come back to the ranch for the night?” I offered. “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of wine and hot water.”

  She bit her lip. “Dylan too?”

  “Of course. He has a room there. The bastard shows up all hours of the night. I gave him a key so he can crash his drunk ass there.”

  She nodded. “Yes, please. Can we go right now? If you have wine … and you … I need it.”

  I held in the groan. She needed it? I fucking needed her. I wanted to hear her cry out. I wanted to watch her as her body lost control orgasm after orgasm. I wanted to make her come on my cock. And fuck, if I didn’t want to watch Dylan make her come too. It was the hottest fucking thing watching that women take pleasure from us the way she did.

  “Let me get Dylan away from Chantel before she scratches his eyes out. Did you drive or did a car bring you?” I wanted to figure out the fastest way to get all of us to the ranch.

  “I drove myself.”

  “How about this? Dylan can drive you over?” I knew I couldn’t leave the station with her. Especially not with this many reporters in one place.

  “Tell him to hurry,” she whispered. I saw the gleam in her eye.

  “Done.”

  I thought I might have more patience, but my cock didn’t.