by Lauren Wood
“No, by all means.” He waved for me to continue.
“I guess I figure if I was going to meet some man who could sweep me off my feet and tie me down to a little house with a white picket fence and kids playing in the yard, it would’ve happened by now. I don’t have any interest in it. So why not play the hand I have to support myself? I always knew there had to be some benefit to staying single while all my other friends were getting married and making babies.”
A warm smile spread across his face. “Cheers to that,” he said, tipping his glass to mine.
“Sorry if all of that is too…direct. Maybe it’s rude of me to bring up the money.”
“Not at all. If we choose to move forward, we’ll be signing a contract that says as much.” He cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat as if he was gearing up to drop a bomb. “It’s better to be frank about this. I don’t want any confusion. I have no interest in a real relationship. I’d expect to maintain my freedom, just as much as I’d expect you to have yours.”
I could tell he meant sleeping with other people. There was still something surreal to all of this, and yet, it felt right. This seemed like such a sensible, pragmatic thing to do, even if it was unorthodox. I was proud of myself for embracing it so well. I usually didn’t have a practical bone in my body. We both seemed to be on the same page about everything. This may have been the craziest thing I had ever done, but so far, it was shaping up to be a smart decision.
We talked and ate and drank until the candles on our table burned down to nothing, and soon we were some of the only people left in the restaurant. I had the strangest feeling that I didn’t want the night to end. Jesse was just so easy to talk to, and it felt like we could have kept going all night. We finally, reluctantly pushed out our chairs and stood to leave. He was kind enough to take the jacket from the back of my chair and hold it up for me to slide my arms through before escorting me outside.
He stopped on the sidewalk and shot me a timid glance. “Listen, I can call you a car, but I’d be happy to share a ride with you if you don’t mind me accompanying you on the drive back to your place.”
“Sure.” I shrugged. “That sounds nice.”
It seemed friendly and innocent enough. The good thing about us being so blunt about our expectations is that there was nothing left unanswered between us and no uncertainties to dance around. So, what could be the harm in two friends, soon to be married by arrangement, sharing a ride together?
That’s what I knew, logically, but my body began buzzing with the warmth of all the wine I drank, and there was something intoxicating about the dark backseat of his limo and the soft eighties love songs playing from the front seat. We sat on opposite sides of the car, keeping a safe distance, but each bump we hit in the road seemed to leave us sitting closer to each other than we were before. His presence and the wafting smell of his cologne was enticing enough to make me cut my eyes over to him every so often, usually finding him staring back at me with the same curiosity.
We had been inching dangerously close and holding each other’s stare longer and longer each time our eyes met until, finally, we were close enough for our thighs to be touching, and I could feel his pinky finger gently, playfully stroking against my hand.
This made no sense. This was the opposite of everything we had just talked about, wasn’t it? I guess we never said we wouldn’t be involved physically, but I thought it was assumed. We both agreed we didn’t want a real relationship, and yet, we seemed to be held in some sort of magnetic pull that brought our lips together.
His mouth brushed mine, slowly at first, testing me as his hand caressed along my cheek. Our lips lingered together until his tongue begged for me to open my mouth, letting him in. With one sweeping motion, the kiss deepened, and I melted completely.
I had a sudden panicked thought that made me jerk back briefly. Could this mess up our agreement? Would giving into this make him decide this wasn’t a good idea after all? I didn’t want my money to be in jeopardy. It was my whole reason for coming here. But his eyes looked as lost and as hungry as mine. We weren’t thinking. We were just going with it. Surely, he couldn’t hold it against me when he seemed to be just as weak to this pull as I was.
His smell and his taste made any shred of resolve I had left dissipate into the night air as we crashed back into one another. For better or worse, we were definitely making out. It was really happening.
5
Jesse
Everything I thought I knew and understood about the evening with Maya seemed to melt away as her velvet tongue rolled across mine. She tasted like vanilla and smelled like strawberries mixed with coconut. Her skin was smooth and soft under my sliding hand, which couldn’t stop moving further and further up her thigh. Before I knew it, it was lost in the space between her legs, not knowing whether to keep feeling around or to stop this before it went any further.
My hesitation was interrupted by a cough from our driver. We stopped suddenly, like we had just woken up from a dream, and looked around cluelessly. We had arrived back at her place, and I didn’t know what to do next because none of that was supposed to happen.
“Come inside?” she asked breathlessly, seeming just as lost as I was.
I nodded silently and followed her out of the car. As we walked up the sidewalk to her small home, each step made me more certain of what had to happen next. Our mouths had to meet again. Not because it made sense or because it was the smart thing to do. Quite the opposite, actually. But my body was on fire and yearning for hers uncontrollably.
The moment her key turned and we found ourselves in the privacy of her home, she was staring at me like a tiger on the prowl. Her eyes were sharp but inviting, just daring me to keep going. I took her face in my hands, moving my grip around to the nape of her neck to tilt her head. Her lips parted, and my tongue slid back inside. We lost ourselves in a rushed mix of kissing, biting, panting, and ripping off each other’s clothes.
Finally, we had somehow worked our way into her bedroom, and she was standing there in nothing but her bra and panties. Her long, slender body looked like that of a goddess, glowing against the moonlight shining in through her window. If there was ever a time to clarify what this meant, which was nothing, now was the moment to do it.
Instead, all that came out was, “My god, you are fucking gorgeous.”
She smiled and looped her fingers into the waist of my boxers, pulling me in closer. The bulge of desire pulsing between my legs pressed up against her warmth before we plummeted down to the bed. I trailed my lips and tongue down her long neck as my hands worked to undo the clasp of her bra. I tossed it aside to free her breasts, greeting them with my mouth one by one.
She writhed against the bed with soft whimpers as I circled her nipples with my tongue. She seemed as desperate and eager as I was, and her hands kneaded into my skin, feeling their way down to my erection. She stroked me as I kissed my way down until I had to pull myself from her gentle grip. I was more interested in tasting what waited for me underneath her lace panties.
I pulled the fabric slowly along her legs but met the sweet folds between them with a ravenous force. She cried out as I sucked her into my mouth, digging my nails into her cheeks as her hips bucked up. I continued lapping her up until I felt her legs begin to shake.
“I have to confess something,” I murmured in between strokes of my tongue. “From the moment I saw you, I did want to know what you sounded like when you came.”
“Oh,” she moaned. “Well if you…keep that up…you’re about to…find out,” she managed to say in between her labored breaths and groaning pleasure.
“Oh, yeah?” I replied coyly, taking her back into my mouth.
I slid two fingers into her warm wetness, hooking them up to the most sensitive place I could find. She pushed into me further and slowly unraveled in my grip. She cried out and quivered against me, desperately digging her nails into the sheets around her until the pleasure faded. I relished in the quie
t murmurs that trailed off as I slowed the motion of my tongue across her folds.
She laughed as she came back down, placing a hand to her face to shield her flush skin. I thought it was one of the most adorable things I had ever seen, no matter how dangerous of a thought that was. Before I could dwell on it for too long, she was reaching for me, yanking my lips back to hers.
As I moved over her, I teased my hard-on along her pulsing nerves, testing her. She was tall but thin and still seemed pretty small when it came to taking me. Halstead men had always been known to be well-endowed, but she was so wet and ready that I slid in effortlessly, filling her entirely with one thrust.
I studied her face to make sure it didn’t hurt her, but she melded against me and urged me to go on. She moved her hips to match my rhythm until we were moving together in perfect harmony. The feeling of being inside of her was enough to undo me entirely. I shuddered against her, dancing along the edge of oblivion with each push and pull. I tried to hold off. I wanted this to last.
“Oh…my…god,” she purred against my neck, her voice breaking with overwhelming pleasure.
As her cries grew louder, I felt her crash into another climax, giving me the go-ahead I needed to let go and do the same. The electric wave of it stirred in my core then shot through my veins in paralyzing ripples. Everything went blurry and dark as my head dropped to the curve of her neck. All I could do was lay there for a moment and wait for the intensity of the sensation to die down.
Eventually, I rolled over, freeing her from the weight of my body, but her hand clasped into mine across the pillow. Neither of us seemed to know what to say or do next.
“That was…unexpected,” she said finally, breaking the silence.
“I promise I didn’t mean for that to happen.” I chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Her eyes studied me in the darkness. I could see a hint of concern, but the faintest grin still lingered on the corner of her lips.
“Is everything okay, though?” she asked cautiously. “This doesn’t…change anything?”
“Not at all. If anything, it’ll only make everything more believable when we present our marriage to my friends and family. Right?”
“Right!” She smiled with a relieved sigh. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
An awkward silence fell. Everything seemed to be fine. Once again, we were on the same page, but I really couldn’t risk anything messing up this arrangement. The point of it was for it not to be complicated. It was supposed to be simple. A business transaction.
“So, it probably shouldn’t happen again,” I added reluctantly, ignoring the way my desire reawakened as I looked across her naked body sprawled next to mine.
“Absolutely not,” she agreed in complete confidence. She lifted up from the bed and slid into a silk robe that had been hanging nearby, then turned to look at me expectantly. “So, maybe you shouldn’t stay here?”
“Oh! Yeah.” I leaped up, scrambling for my boxers and pants. “You’re right. I’ll go. My car should still be waiting outside.”
Once I was dressed, there was a moment of hesitation between us at the door. A kiss would be pushing, and a handshake felt ridiculous and cold. We settled on an awkward hug, and I told her I would call her once I had spoken with the agency.
We both had to report back to them as to whether we wanted to proceed after meeting in person. I imagined making the call as I walked back to my car with my jacket flung over my shoulder and a sly smile on my lips. How many other people who had been matched together like us found themselves in this spot? I knew I would have to suppress all my dirty thoughts as I spoke to Linda Mullins.
Really, I’d have to hide them altogether from now on. Maya and I agreed. This couldn’t happen again.
6
Maya
Waking up the next morning alone in my bed, I knew sending Jesse home the night before was the right thing to do. It made the whole thing feel like a dream, and it was a needed reminder that it all could be nothing more than a dream if I wanted it to be.
I had to call Lisa Mullins at the agency and let her know how I felt about the arrangement after having dinner with Jesse. It was one of the last points in negotiations that I could back out without facing any financial repercussions. Once the contract was finalized and signed, we would be set to walk down the aisle together, and I would publicly appear to be his wife for five years. Any urge to back out before then would land me in the hole for five-hundred thousand dollars, which I would never be able to pay.
Soon, there would be no turning back. I slid out of bed and went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, knowing I needed to think this through very carefully. I was an impulsive person by nature, but this was not something to be taken lightly. I had never made such a hefty commitment in my entire life.
With a fresh cup of strong coffee in hand, I sat on my window seat and looked at the birds chirping in the tree outside. I was prepared to settle into deep thought until I had an answer. I wanted to view Jesse objectively. He was tall, dark, and handsome. In short, he was every woman’s dream. The image of his face flashed in my mind, but it only faded into the memory of his lips against mine. I thought about his strong hands as they guided me to and from the restaurant by the small of my back, but my thoughts quickly turned to recall all the other things his hands did to me the night before.
I grumbled to myself, thinking we had made a mistake. I had never been above a one night stand. I knew how it worked. You felt the touch of a new person, taking in all the sights and tastes of them, and it released a flood of chemicals in your brain that tainted your judgment. I needed him to be just a guy that I was playing a part with, no different than the plays I had worked on at the community theater. My role was that of trophy wife in the land of the rich and famous, but as my brain continued lighting up with lust, it was hard to know what to do.
Could I really marry someone without knowing them? No matter how fake the marriage would be behind closed doors, on paper, it would be real. Jesse Halsted may have seemed like a no brainer when all of his qualities were spelled out. Gorgeous, rich, and powerful. Those weren’t the kinds of things I had ever cared about. What about his soul? His desires? Who was he underneath that suit and outside of the bounds of this potential contract?
The bigger question was, did any of that even matter given what this arrangement was supposed to be? I knew the answer was no. The problem was that what happened after dinner didn’t feel so fake. If it happened once, would it inevitably happen again?
Soon my head was spinning in circles and aching. I decided maybe deep thought wasn’t the way to go about this. Maybe I would busy myself with other things, and the answer would just come to me. That’s what I did when I didn’t know what to do next with a painting. I’d go work on jewelry or some other project for a while, and the solution would come. This could be treated the same.
I took a shower, got dressed, put on jewelry, and pinned a flower in my hair. I admired the beautiful sunshine outside as I walked to my dreaded mailbox. Checking the mail had become a dark cloud of a task looming over every day. Nothing ever came to me but bills, and these days I rarely had the money to pay all of them. I sifted through the utility bills, counting my stash of money in my head, doling out how I would pay each one.
Then a more startling envelope appeared as I went through the stack. It was from my landlord, who usually contacted me by telephone. Receiving an official letter could not be good. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, choosing to fantasize about all the things it could be. Maybe they had decided to show mercy on me and forgive my back rent. Some billionaire like Jesse Halstead strolled into their office and offered a donation to make things easier on some poor, broke soul like myself.
As I ripped into the letter and started reading, I instantly knew it was no such luck. My time was up. It was the official eviction notice. They had shown me as much grace as they could, and now I had thirty days to pack up and get out. Or pay
my outstanding balance, which once again seemed like nothing in the light of five hundred thousand dollars. Without this arrangement, coming up with that kind of money in such a short amount of time made a hard lump form in my throat. Without this arrangement, I was screwed.
I forced myself into long, slow, steady breaths and sat down at my kitchen table with all of my money and bills spread out before me. Options…there always had to be options. I added up the unpaid invoices from the shops that had ordered from me. It would soften the blow, but it was nowhere near enough. Painting sales were unreliable and by no means something I could depend on to save me. There was the option of selling everything and leaving, but once again, I looked around this little home I had made for myself and didn’t want to leave.
So, what else could a broke artist who hadn’t held a real job in years do to make money? Aside from marrying a billionaire stranger? I could get a regular nine to five job. I could hit Margo up about that nannying job. I could find something, anything, with a steady paycheck and give up my time and freedom to create for a little while.
Or I could marry Jesse. Life could go on as it has been, only I’d have the freedom to make whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to outside of the occasional public appearance on his arm, posing as his wife. The prospect seemed like a breath of fresh air, like big golden rays of sunshine breaking through the storm of all these bills.
Maybe it was a crazy idea to go through with this, but I had never shied away from risks. My whole life as an artist had been a risk. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place. This plunge could make all of my troubles go away. Above all else, my biggest goal in life was to avoid anything boring. Entering into an arranged marriage with someone like Jesse Halstead was definitely anything but boring.
With one more sip of coffee and an affirming nod to myself, I stood up from the table and tracked down my cell phone to call Lisa Mullins.