That One Night: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Amy Brent

  A part of me wanted to march over there, grab Faye, and put myself between them. Put as much distance between her and the record mogul as possible. But I knew Faye would be pissed off if I did anything of the sort.

  She seemed to think she was invincible and would reject even the offer of help. She thought it made her look weak to ask, and she’d never accept in a million years, especially not from me. Not when she had Archer fucking Calloway.

  Chapter 2

  Faye

  “Really, Mr. Calloway, you’ve been too generous already,” I said, forcing a chuckle. I just hoped it didn’t look too much like the grimace it felt like.

  “Please, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Archer.” He grinned at me. With his blond hair and polished good looks, I assumed more than one woman had fallen victim to his charm. But I wasn’t just any woman, and he wasn’t my type. I made sure to keep my own smile professional and distant, taking a step back to put more distance between us.

  “Honestly, Mr. Calloway—”

  “Archer. I insist.” The grin dropped a little bit, but a moment later it was back in full force. All I could do was shrug.

  “All right, Archer,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’ve already gone above and beyond for the band, and that’s who I’m here to take care of.”

  “And who’s taking care of you?”

  I paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to answer his flirtatious comment.

  “I, uh, have no problem taking care of myself,” I said slowly, hoping he would get the point. “I’m a grown woman after all.”

  I barely held back the urge to roll my eyes at the man. What I really wanted to do was tell him in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t interested, but after all the band had been through, the last thing I wanted to do was jeopardize their shot at making and producing a record with Eureka. I knew how big of a deal this contract was for them.

  “Oh, believe me,” Archer drawled, leaning forward with that slick smile of his, “I know.”

  I gritted my teeth, inhaling a deep breath. No. Nope. Screw this guy.

  I grinned, but it was more of a baring of teeth than an actual smile.

  “I’m just going to stop you right there, Mr. Calloway.”

  “Archer. I told you, call me Archer,” he said, interrupting, his own smile growing wider. All I could do was shake my head.

  “I really don’t think that’s appropriate.” I went right on talking as if I hadn’t even noticed his attempt to derail me. “And I have one hard and fast rule: I don’t date musicians.”

  “Well it’s a good thing I’m not a musician then,” he said with a grin that had his bright blue eyes sparkling. Damn, he was handsome. But so not my type.

  “Believe me, Mr. Calloway, you qualify.” I threw him a look, half-pleading, half-glaring. “And besides, I’d never do anything to risk the band’s shot at success.”

  Archer’s brows rose in affront, but there was still that gleam of a smile in his baby blues. “I would never take something you do out on the band. That’s business.” He leaned closer. “This is pleasure. I always keep the two separate.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

  Archer’s statement drew up painful memories. Memories of my ex, Bryce. I had been in love with him once, and he’d screwed me over—after screwing half the girls on the Eastern Seaboard. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. Hell no. Not today.

  My gaze slid over to where Sam was chatting with the rest of the band despite my best intentions.

  It was always like that when we were in the same room together. Hell, in the same state even. His tousled chestnut curls had grown long enough to tease his forehead, and his dark, poet’s eyes were serious.

  As if Sam could sense my stare, he turned his head so suddenly I didn’t have time to react. His gaze instantly trapped mine, holding it hostage. Archer was saying something else but I didn’t hear the words. The sound of my racing heart drowned out everything else. The steady rush was like white noise filling my ears and my vision narrowed down to Sam as if we were the only two people who existed in the world.

  I couldn’t draw my gaze away as heat settled low and insistent, deep inside me. I couldn’t keep my mind off him either, no matter that I knew it was hopeless.

  He was a musician damn it, and even though I’d had one moment of weakness with him—granted it had been before I’d known what he was—I’d still seen him go through plenty of groupies over the past year.

  It had made the tour almost unbearable for me. Every new state, every new city, there was a slew of girls just lining up to get a piece of him. Well, they could just rip him to shreds for all I cared.

  But there was that niggling bit of jealousy deep in my stomach that I could never quite put out, and the hurt. It was ridiculous. Sam was a free man. Why should I care who he slept with? Why should I let it bother me?

  I knew better, I told myself firmly, forcing my gaze to meet his stare for stare. Why did that never seem to make it better?

  It also did nothing to stem the flood of desire that dampened my inner thighs. Even a year and a half hadn’t dulled the affect he had on me.

  I still felt the same rush of need, the same sharp desire that stabbed through me. It was only for him. Only ever for Sam.

  I had to grit my teeth to pull my attention away from the guitarist and back to Archer.

  “So, what do you say? Dinner tonight? I have a standing reservation at Le Vie.”

  I was already shaking my head no before the words were all the way out of his mouth. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “We still need to finalize some details of the recording contracts,” Archer said, his expression open and sincere. I instantly distrusted it. “That’s it. I swear. I’m not just trying to get a beautiful woman to go out to dinner with me. It will be pure business.”

  I still hesitated. I could tell by his voice that he didn’t mean what he said, or he at least was still hoping for more. But we really did have business details to discuss.

  I had no doubt I could handle Archer “thinks he’s God’s gift to women” Calloway.

  I glance over at the band, and shock flew through me. Sam’s gaze was still locked on me, just as hot, just as fierce as before. My body responded just as it always did. Bloody traitor.

  Tilting my chin up, I deliberately turned my back on the brooding guitarist. I wasn’t going to let him rule my body. Not anymore.

  “Okay.”

  “It’s a great restaurant. I’m friends with the chef. I’m sure I’ll be able to… What did you say?”

  I bit back a grin at the surprised look on Archer’s face.

  “I said okay. Does seven o’clock work for you?” I drew out my phone, plugging in the time and place.

  “Uh…yes, yeah! Seven is perfect. Why don’t you give me your address? I’ll come pick you up.”

  “I’ll take a cab,” I said hastily, and then gave him a straight forward look. “This isn’t a date, Mr. Calloway. It’s just business.”

  He held up his hands, the picture of innocence so blatant that I almost laughed out loud. Innocence didn’t belong on that face.

  “Just business, like you said.” He grinned, a gleam in his bright blue eyes, and I found myself shaking my head. The man was incorrigible.

  Slowly, my smile faded. I could still feel Sam’s stare like a brand between my shoulder blades, but I refused to turn around.

  I would get over him once and for all. I promised myself that as I turned and walked away, leaving the band to follow Archer’s assistant for the rest of the tour.

  Recording wouldn’t start until tomorrow, and I had a business meeting to get ready for.

  Seven o’clock came at a snail’s pace. I found myself standing in front of the posh downtown restaurant and suddenly was bombarded with regret. I never should have agreed to go out to dinner with Archer. What had I been thinking
?

  We could have just as easily gone over the contract details in the morning, at the studio, in Mr. Calloway’s office.

  The only reason I had agreed to this in the first place was to prove to myself that I was finally over Sam. Or at least prove that I could ignore him and what he did to my body.

  It had been a stupid thing to do in the first place. Yep, I would just turn around and go home. If Archer asked, I’d tell him I was feeling under the weather or some other mundane lie.

  Certainly never the truth—that I was still so caught up on a past lover that I couldn’t even muster going out to dinner with someone else.

  I was not caught up on Same. I was just…busy. That was all. Very busy. Too busy to waste hours idly eating and chatting with just anyone.

  My mind made up, I turned to leave and nearly groaned out loud when I caught sight of the blue silk Dolce and Gabbana suit standing directly in front of me.

  “Faye! Good, you’re here already.” Archer swept me further into the restaurant before I could manage to do more than open my mouth.

  “Stella, we’ll take my usual table,” he said to the pretty young woman in the black button-down shirt standing with her arms crossed politely in front of her.

  “Of course, Mr. Calloway,” the hostess said with a simpering smile. “Right this way.”

  She led us through the dimly lit space. It was just as elegant and upscale as the front had suggested.

  The tables were glossy black granite warmed with flickering firelight on each one. The walls were a muted gray and brown that made the whole place seem shrouded in shadows and secrets.

  It was so ostentation that it made me want to roll my eyes, but I held back. If Archer wanted to show off his wealth, that was fine by me, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to impress me.

  The hostess led us to a table in the back. It was a booth that was nearly hidden from the rest of the restaurant. She handed me a menu with a knowing smirk, and I didn’t’ even try to stop my eyes from rolling this time.

  Really, how many women has he brought here? Trying to impress them with all this? From what I knew of Archer Calloway, it was probably more than I could have counted.

  I nearly snorted out loud. I glanced around the dimly lit restaurant and then at the menu, and my eyes widened as they landed on the price printed in neat, tiny letters next to each a la carte item.

  I had grown up purely middle class in the Midwest. It wasn’t until I’d graduated college and started making my way up the ranks at the agency that I saw my first taste of real money.

  I still remembered the year I first made six figures. That was probably chump change to Archer Calloway.

  A moment later a waiter appeared from seemingly nowhere to take our orders. I got the special, and as soon as Archer ordered, the server melted away again as if he’d never been. Archer leaned forward.

  “So, here we are at last.” He sent me a hopeful smile, and all I could do was give him a rueful shake of my head.

  “You really don’t give up, do you?”

  His blue eyes opened wide in surprise.

  They were too light. Not nearly as mysterious or sexy as melting dark eyes the color of chocolate.

  “Not generally, no.”

  “I meant what I said earlier,” I said, being as straightforward as possible. I’d found that was always the best way to deal with men, especially men who didn’t get the picture. “I don’t date musicians. In fact, I’m not looking to date at all at the moment.”

  Archer sat back, eyeing me for a long minute before leaning forward.

  “Do you want to come work for me? Eureka could use someone like you.”

  “What, someone who’s resistant to your charms?” I asked sardonically before I could stop myself.

  But instead of getting mad, Archer threw his head back and laughed.

  “No. Someone who know what she wants and isn’t afraid to work for it.”

  Suddenly, I was glad for the darkness. It hid the blush that heated my cheeks. He could have complemented my looks until he was blue in the face and it wouldn’t have mattered to me, but he had picked the one thing I was fiercely proud of: my work.

  After that, the rest of the dinner went smoothly, and to my surprise he was true to his word. He really did keep it all about business.

  After two hours had passed, I glanced at my watch and rose to leave.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dessert?” he asked and I gave him a sharp look before shaking my head.

  “I’m sure. Thanks for dinner though. It really was lovely.”

  “At least let me drive you home,” he offered, also rising. He gave a quick nod to the waiter who was standing patiently a few feet away in case we needed anything else. “Just put it on my bill.”

  “Of course, Mr. Calloway,” the waiter said politely. The next thing I knew, we were outside and he was shuffling me toward the silver BMW parked out front before I could even get out a protest.

  With a shrug, I got in, giving him brief directions to my place, and ten minutes later we were pulling up in front of my apartment building. Archer ran around and opened my door for me, and I let out a resigned sign as I stepped out of the car. I stopped him with a hand to his chest before he could follow me.

  “I don’t need anyone to walk me to the door, thank you very much,” I muttered under my breath, and Archer just shrugged.

  “If you insist, Ms. Donnelly.”

  “I really do, Archer. Have a good night.”

  He shot me a grin, and I realized I’d slipped and called him Archer after all. I snorted out a soft laugh as he turned and got back into his expensive car. He drove away, and I went inside alone.

  Chapter 3

  Faye

  He moved over me like an ocean wave, all consuming, dragging me deeper and deeper as he pushed the pleasure higher and higher.

  I could barely keep my eyes open the pleasure was so intense, and I never wanted it to end. He knew just how to touch me, just how to slide his fingers deep inside my body to find that sensitive bundle of nerve endings that fired like rockets.

  And then his mouth was moving, his lips joining his fingers as he teased me with his touch. His tongue swam in tiny circles over my sensitive clit. I tried to jerk my hips, to move closer to the pleasure or away from the overwhelming feeling he sparked in me, I wasn’t sure.

  But he had one arm thrown across my thighs, holding me in place for his onslaught, and all I could do was take it, take it all, everything he had to give.

  I cried out in pleasure as he thrust two fingers in, working them inside my drenched pussy. Over and over he slammed them home, and I relished the wet sound of flesh against flesh.

  His tongue lapped at the honey that dripped from inside me, and I couldn’t hold back. I pried my eyes open enough to stare down at him, my gaze going wide as ecstasy arced through my tortured body like lighting. I was so close to the edge, but still he wouldn’t let me come. Every time my body tightened, he would pull back just enough for me to reach out and find nothing there but empty air.

  Words trembled from my lips in a broken gasp: “Please, Sam.”

  My eyes shot wide, and it took me a disoriented moment to remember where I was. I was in my bed, in my room. I was alone.

  I waited for the dream to fade, but it stayed just as sharp in my mind as it had been while I’d been sleeping. I could still feel him, still taste him. My body still wanted him with a need that took my breath away.

  Before I could stop myself, my hand was reaching down my body. I gasped as I found my thighs already soaked from the dream.

  My eyes drifted shut again as bits and pieces of the dream flashed through my mind. Sam kissing me, his hard fingers filling me as he pushed my body past limits I didn’t know I had.

  My fingers followed the dream’s rhythm. Sam rising over me, his body a perfect match for mine. The incredible feeling of being filled and stretched as his thick
cock sank deep inside my pussy. I could imagine every bit of pleasure, every wonderful sensation as he pounded into me.

  With a muffled cry, I came in a rush of emotion. After a long moment, I let out a sigh of relief. My body was satisfied for the moment but the climax had been oddly empty.

  I knew why, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I sighed again as I pushed myself out of bed, my body moving reluctantly.

  He didn’t know it, but I hadn’t slept with anyone since that night with Sam. Oh, I’d been tempted and had even come close a time or two, but I just hadn’t felt that spark with anyone. Not since—

  Viciously, I cut off that train of thought as I pulled on my robe. A part of me, a small, secret part of me, was afraid Sam had ruined me for anyone else.

  I shook my head, snorting caustically at the thought. It was completely ridiculous. I’d just been…busy, that was all. Busy with the tour, busy with managing the band, busy with life. That was all.

  I was grateful when the uncomfortable stream of thoughts was interrupted by a buzz coming from my nightstand. I picked up my cell phone just as a notification went off again, my brow furrowing as I read the message.

  Everyone meet me at the recording studio at nine. I have an announcement.

  It was from Alice, but it sounded oddly hesitant coming from the band’s lead singer who normally didn’t text anything without a rock-on symbol or a middle finger emoji.

  Curious, and maybe a little alarmed as well, I hurried to get dressed and then made my way to the studio as quickly as I could.

  The others were all there already by the time I arrived. Casey was sitting on the couch that was pushed up against the wall, tapping away with a pencil on the clear plastic coffee table. He nodded his head to some unheard beat.

  Alice and Sam were sitting sprawled on two of the lounge chairs that were place next to the couch. They both had their heads together and were talking softly. As always, I was struck by their strong bond. I knew a little bit of their history from my friendship with Alice, but they looked out for each other like they were family instead of just bandmates. It was part of what made them work so well on and off the stage. They truly loved each other and would have done anything for each other, all three of them.