On second thought, it would be nice to know what he would have to do for the grand. If it wasn’t illegal, he could make some much-needed upgrades to his GTO.
“What’s the job?”
* * * *
Oh, he was perfect. His blue eyes had twinkled when she rubbed her foot on his muscled leg. He must have thought she was an easy score, but she had to know if his legs were as toned as his arms. Of course, they were.
His dimples were divine. For some odd reason, she loved a dimpled face. Her heart had flipped when she saw them. Two identical indentions on his cheeks. She wondered what his other set of cheeks looked like. How they would feel in her hands.
Slow down before you run him off. The advice might work in normal circumstances, but she didn’t have time to slow down. She needed a boyfriend who all but lived at her house and had advanced to the meet-the-parents stage in a relationship.
After a deep breath, she gathered her nerve. “All you have to do is pretend you’re my boyfriend and attend my high school reunion. Of course, we’ll have to become very acquainted with each other, and we only have two weeks. Afterwards, I’ll tell my family we broke up, and you’ll get your grand.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “That’s all? I don’t have to kill anyone or anything?”
She laughed, then stifled her amusement when she noticed his seriousness. “No. You don’t have to kill anyone, physically. Emotionally, I hope my ex cries for days after he sees me in the best shape of my life and with a man sexier than he could ever hope to be.”
Had she really confessed her attraction to him out loud? Minutes ago she’d scoffed at the hornballs in the room. Now drool threatened to drip from the corner of her mouth.
The coordinator’s voice boomed over the microphone, “Switch.”
Oh, no! Her time was up, and he hadn’t answered. Months of searching for the perfect man and he was about to move out of her life. Well, maybe just move to the next table, but what if he found a better offer a few seats down? There were a lot of attractive women here tonight.
“Move buddy, I’ve been waiting to talk to number five all night.” A man wearing a wife beater and ripped jeans nudged Noah over to the next table.
Noah inched over without answering her question. A lump formed in her throat. The man of her dreams… or lies, however you wanted to phrase it, left her waiting for his reply.
The next guy in line sat down. Dip bulged in his lower lip, and he held an empty soda bottle to spit in. She wrinkled up her nose and inched away from the table. His breath overtook her when he opened his mouth and introduced himself.
“Hello, hot momma. I’ve been waiting to get in your panties since I saw you walk in the door.” He spat in his bottle. Dip juice ran down his chin, and he growled at her.
Gross! She looked at Noah as he sat down with the woman next to her. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off her either.
“Forget about him, darlin’. He had his chance. I’ll be your man for two weeks. When that times up though, you’ll be begging me to stay. I’ll satisfy you like no other can.” He touched her hand, and she jerked back. “What’s wrong, sugar britches? Afraid of a real man?” He reached across the table again, seized her wrist and squeezed.
She tired to free her arm, but he tightened his grip. Blood throbbed where he pressed and her fingers tingled from the loss of oxygen.
“Get your hands off my woman.” Noah jumped up, grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it behind his back until the man screamed out.
“Quit, quit! I’ll leave her alone.”
Quiet rushed through the room, and people stopped to stare. Things happened so fast.
Noah let go with a light shove. “It’s a game we play. You know, like go to the bar and act like you’re picking up a woman when the woman is already your wife.”
“Hey, buddy. Calm down. I didn’t know.” The man rubbed his arm where Noah had twisted it.
The coordinator and a few large guys with Staff t-shirts hurried over. “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.” The lady spoke in a soft voice to Noah, probably afraid to upset the other daters and have them ask for a refund.
“No problem, we were going anyway.” Noah held out his hand to her.
She couldn’t leave him hanging there, make him look bad in front of everyone after he’d defended her, but did he always have such a hot temper? Maybe she should walk out with him, tell him thanks and then politely excuse herself. But then she’d be back to square one. Noah might be the only guy to fit her description and it was a mere two weeks of her life.
While everyone stared, she took his hand and exited the convention room with Noah. Once they were in the hotel lobby, her feet and tongue froze. She started to plan her escape, but thought twice before she said anything to ruin her chance to pull off her lie.
“I’m sorry about that jerk. A man should never put his hands on a lady! In fact, I wouldn’t call someone who did that a man. Are you all right?” He took her wrist and tenderly rubbed. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine. Just a bit shook up.” Maybe he did have a slight temper, but he’d used it to defend her. Didn’t he say men shouldn’t hurt women? His outburst seemed understandable.
“I’m sorry about what I said.” He released her wrist.
She wrinkled her brow, confused. What had he said to apologize for?
“About you being my woman. It popped into my mind first.” He blushed a light pink, like he had when she’d commented on his dimples.
Comfort washed over her as his temper died down and concern took over. “Well, I did ask you to be my man for two weeks. So…” She looked down at her feet. The nail polish she’d expertly applied today looked stunning. Oh, stop stalling and just ask. “What do you say? Would you like to be my lover?”
Chapter 2
Hell yeah, Noah wanted to be her lover. Seeing the full length of her, he wanted her more than before.
Her short skirt skimmed the curves of her hips and showed off a round firm ass. Shaped and toned legs went on for days, making her close to eye level with him. Boobs were nice to look at and touch, but he’d always been a leg man.
He watched her bite her lower lip as she waited for his answer. How was he to tell her he wanted to rent a room and drag her upstairs right now, when he didn’t think she meant the word lover in the same fashion he did? Pity. Because he’d love to get those well-toned thighs around his waist.
On the other hand, if he played his cards right, he might change her meaning before the two weeks were through. “I would be honored to accompany you to your reunion and spend the next two weeks getting to know you.”
Her shoulders relaxed and her eyes lit up. He didn’t say yes for the money, but for the sheer pleasure of knowing her dirty little secrets. And by the twinkle in her eyes, those secrets must be juicy.
“Where should we start?” A suite? His car? Or right here, right now?
She waved her hand toward the bar. “How about a drink?”
“Perfect.” He laced her hand through the crook of his arm. Manicured nails on her fingers and toes. Not over done or flashy. Classy. Sophisticated. Downright sexy. It would be hard, but he’d have to keep his stained fingers hidden. Otherwise, she might be disgusted with them, and he wanted to put them on her body. Especially those legs.
He escorted her to an out-of-the-way table in a dim corner and pulled out a chair. A woman like her deserved to be pampered. After all, they did have to make it look real. It couldn’t hurt to put a smile on her face and a few stars in her eyes.
“What’s your poison?” Information he probably needed to know about his newly acquired, long-time girlfriend.
“Sex on the beach.” She rewarded him with a smile.
So, it was like that was it? “Coming right up.” He walked through the almost empty club to the bar and bought her the cocktail and a beer for himself. Loud music played from a live band and the lights burned low. A couple of guys sat at the bar dr
inking and flirting with each other. It made him a bit uneasy, but at least someone would score tonight. Maybe he’d get lucky too.
After he paid for the drinks, he walked back to their table.
“I see you’re a beer man.” She nodded at his mug.
“Yes, I am.” Information he knew she would learn quickly. Not that he drank a lot. A beer or two through the week after a long day in the hot garage was the limit to his alcohol consumption. He never went for the hard stuff or wine.
“As long as it’s not brandy, I don’t care what you drink.” She rolled her eyes and took a swig of her drink.
Perhaps a secret loomed behind the brandy. He only had two weeks to learn all of them so he’d better start. “What’s wrong with brandy?”
With a clang, she let the glass slip from her hand to the table. “It’s what Tyler drank. Every night. Three or four glasses before he would go to bed with me.” A sadness emerged in her voice. “Most of the time he just passed out.”
What kind of man would need a drink to sleep with Val? Her body was a knock out, and she didn’t strike him as the nagging type. What more could a man want of a woman in his bed? “Tell me something about this Tyler. Other than being stupid.”
Giggles emerged from her throat and a light came back to her expression.
“There really isn’t much to say. We were friends in high school, parted ways for a while then dated for a couple of years.” As she spoke, she scrubbed the water off the table where their drinks had sweated. “He asked me to marry him. I was so blind and stupid, I said yes.”
“What makes you say that?” Anyone who owned and operated a successful business had to be intelligent.
The smile dimmed again. “I thought he was charming and on his way to the top of a film career. Not that fame and fortune matters, but I thought he had ambition and drive. Turns out, he had too much drive. I caught him cheating with some bimbo. In my car.” She pointed to her chest. “All those nights he said he was working on his career, he spent banging someone else.” Her voice rose and cracked.
“I’m sorry. Men can be jerks.”
“Don’t be sorry.” She patted his hand.
He wanted to grab her hand and hold it. Comfort her, but she pulled it away.
“I’m over him. Really I am, but I want to show him. Let him know I’m doing great without him.”
“Why do you have to be with another man to prove you’re fine?”
Her gaze wandered around the bar. No one new had come in and no one had left either. The band continued to play and the bartender wiped down glasses. What had happened with Tyler to make her feel uncomfortable talking about it?
“Tyler said things to me, a lot. Things like I was fat, lazy, no one would ever want me or put up with me other than him. I just want him to know he’s wrong. There is someone out there for me. Where I don’t know, but I will find him one day.”
What a prick! The woman oozed class, intelligence, and beauty. On top of that, he sensed a pure heart. Physical and/or emotional abusers warranted an ass kicking.
“He’s wrong, and you deserve so much better.” Noah leaned in close, inhaled her scent, a mixture of roses and jasmine—flowers his grandmother had grown in the garden. Then he whispered in her ear. “Intoxicating. What are you wearing?”
When his breath landed on her neck, she giggled and shivered. “Red Door.”
“It suits you well. A delicate flowery smell for a delicate flower.” He changed his voice from a whisper to more authoritative. “Forget about the creep. Concentrate on us getting to know each other. By the end of the reunion, there’ll be no doubt as to how we feel about each other.” He raised his mug toward her and then took a swig.
Candlelight swept across her cheek as she turned her face and gazed down. The corners of her mouth crept into a stunning grin. Not flashy or fake. Simply down to earth. Charming.
“What do you want to know about me?” Her voice came out soft and sexy.
Should he be brave and ask what he really wanted to know? Yeah, he never took things slow. Why should he now? “The kind of panties you wear.” He placed a light kiss on her neck. Information he wanted to know for his own imagination. Thong came to mind, showing off her tight ass. If she didn’t, he’d buy her some and convert her.
Straightening her back, she projected her voice louder. “Thong, when I wear any.”
Holy shit! Blood pulsed in his cock and a lump formed in his throat. Visions materialized in his mind. Did she have any on now? Shaven or unshaved? God, get a grip!
“What about you? Boxers? Brief? Or a boxer brief man?” She raised her glass. Her lips parted, allowing the fruity liquid to pour into her mouth.
Where has this woman been all my life? They’d only talked for a few minutes, and he already knew what kind of panties she wore. Or didn’t wear.
“Boxer briefs.” He’d let her see, if and when she wanted. Tonight would be good.
Glancing down, he noticed she bent over the table a tad as she put her glass down. Cleavage spilled from her blouse, and he took in an eye-full.
She brushed her hair from her shoulders. “Like what you see?”
“Very much.” If he liked anymore, he’d explode in his snug fitting boxer briefs.
“Good. We have to make it look real or no one will believe us. So look all you want.”
So it was all an act, her being into him, flirting. Well, it wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear. The rush of excitement he’d felt ten seconds ago disappeared into a cloud of dust behind screeching tires on a dirt track. He’d started to like her, and thought she liked him too. But whatever happened, he planned to get his fair peek. Make it all seem real, for her benefit, of course.
“Now that you’ve looked over the goods, we have a few things to go over.” She took another drink.
This time she licked her lips. Was she teasing him? Whether she attempted to or not, it didn’t matter. It worked. He wanted to kiss her lips. Explore the very mouth that teased him so. Suck her tongue. Taste the fruity drink. Run his hands up and down her long gorgeous legs.
“Noah?” Val’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“What?”
“Our back-story.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, my mind wandered off there for a moment.” And it was a hell of a place to go.
“As I was saying, we met about six months ago in a bar. You bought me a drink; we talked, laughed, and had a few dates. Then about three months ago we started seeing each other exclusively. Started out slow, but now we’ve moved to the meet-the-parents stage.” Feminine hands flew around the table cleaning and reorganizing things as she rushed through another well rehearsed speech.
“Meet-the-parents stage?” Were there stages to a relationship? Usually, he met a woman, slept with her, and got married. Of course, that had never worked for him either. He wanted to do things right on his next try. Maybe he could learn something here.
“You know- I think things are going good, the guy might be in my life for a while, Mom and Dad need to see a living, breathing person to believe me. That sort of thing. Anyway, your name’s Sam…”
“Whoa, wait. You didn’t say anything about changing my name.”
“I can’t have a boyfriend without them wanting to know his name.” She looked at him like he’d stepped out of the Twilight Zone.
Even though the thought had never crossed his mind, it made sense. He took a long swig of his beer. Drained the mug. “Okay, but why Sam?”
“Don’t laugh, but I was cooking dinner when Mom called. We got to talking. She started with the ‘when are you going to settle down bit’.” Her voice raised an octave, imitating her mother. “‘Tyler’s coming to town’. So I made up a guy.” Val finished off her drink. “Mom asked for a name, and I choked. I had salmon cooking in the oven, about to burn. I said salmon to myself. Mom heard Sam.”
This might be harder to pull off than he thought. Before, he’d assumed he could be himself. Now he knew he had to do a bit of acting. “
What else should I know before this event?” And when did he get to learn more of her dirty little secrets?
* * * *
Val didn’t need to go into all the details of her lies. Nor did she need to scare him off after he’d agreed to her scheme. He fit the profile she’d conjured up and that’s all that mattered.
The next two weeks would give them enough time to pass as lovers. All they had to do was spend an hour or so at dinner one night with the parents and a couple of hours at the reunion to make Tyler green with envy. Once he left town, she’d tell her parents the truth.
Guilt surfaced again. Her mother might get hurt by the truth. Best to keep it hidden to avoid causing undue pain. She’d tell her parents she and Sam had a stupid fight and cooled things off for a bit. A few weeks would turn into months and things wouldn’t work out. No big deal. Then no one would get hurt.
“Let’s see.” She wiggled her empty glass. “I tend to flirt and get a bit crazy when I’m drunk.”
A spark of interest lit his eyes. “Another sex on the beach for the lady.” He scooted his chair back in a rush and walked to the bar to get her another drink.
She watched his tight buns and wondered what he looked like under the layers of clothing. Was she really doing this? Could she pick up a guy and take him home? What if he had a taste for blood or a sick desire to chop her in little pieces? Get a grip, he’s a nice guy. Of course, everyone had said that about Ted Bundy too.
Stop it. If she didn’t go through with her plan, she’d wish she were dead when Tyler laughed at her in front of all their old high school friends. She wanted to see him squirm for once. The plan was set and that was that. Plus, her girlfriends would want to know what her hot stud was like in the sack. Should she tell them it was none of their business, make something up, or find out for real?
It could be fun to answer the question, but she never slept with anyone on the first date. First date? Was she crazy? This wasn’t a date. A chance meeting and a few drinks, in which refills to those drinks were on the way.
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