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Marrying his Brother: A Fake Fiance Romance

Page 29

by Tia Siren


  I shook my head to clear it and nodded at her as she sat down across from me. “Good afternoon,” I said.

  “Hi,” Paige said, smiling at me. She sounded breathless, as though maybe she was as nervous and excited as I was. It made me smile to think about. “Is this your attorney?” she asked.

  “My name is Lee Atwater,” Lee said smoothly. “Now, Mr. Adams said you had some changes that you wanted to make to the contract.”

  “I do,” Paige agreed. She pulled her copy of the contract out of the folder that she'd been carrying, and I could see that she'd marked it up heavily. I raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you trained in law?” I asked her.

  Paige laughed. “Oh, of course not,” she said. “But I've got a friend who gave me a little advice. Anyway, I figured as long as I had my thoughts out there, Lee could help with figuring out exactly what I can ask for.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “Now, the main concern I have is, are you sure this doesn't count as prostitution?”

  “What we're planning to do is completely legal,” Michael said. “We've already considered that. But just to keep things from going to the media and causing an uproar, I had you sign the NDA.”

  “Right,” Paige said. “Regarding the NDA, I hope you don't mind that I told my best friend all about this. I live with her so she would get suspicious if I didn't tell her where I suddenly got my money from. And she'd want to know who the dad was if she thought that there was a chance of there being an actual relationship between us. She's a romantic, deep down.”

  “But you aren't?” I asked curiously.

  Paige shook her head. “I'm a realist,” she said. “Sure, I think that two people can build a life together if that's what they want, but I don't believe in soulmates or anything like that. Relationships take work. And sometimes they don't work out. But most of all, I guess I just don't see myself ending up with anyone long-term. I'm just not interested in anyone in that way.”

  “Good,” I said, feeling relieved. Just as I'd suspected. It sounded like she could be the perfect candidate for my surrogate. Except that there were these unknown changes that she wanted to make to the contract. Who knew what those could be.

  “The first stipulation I have is that you pay me half the money when I conceive,” Paige said. “I'll need to take care of myself if I'm going to have a baby. You probably don't want me living with a roommate in a studio apartment, and you probably also don't want me working at the bar every night. I'm going to need to buy proper, nutritious food, pay for visits to the doctor, buy maternity clothes, and so on.”

  “That's fair,” I said slowly.

  “I'm also afraid that things might change and that I might grow too attached to the child in the end,” she continued, looking nervous. “If I give birth to the child and decide that I want to keep it, you can keep the rest of your money, but I get to keep the kid.”

  I was silent, staring at her, my jaw tight. “That defeats the whole purpose of this arrangement,” I said. What kind of an idiot did she take me for? I stood up. “I'm afraid you're wasting my time,” I said, my voice betraying my irritation. “Have a good day; I'll find someone else.”

  “Hang on, hear me out,” Paige said, holding up a hand. “I'm not finished.”

  I stared at her for a long moment and then slowly sat back down. “Well?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

  Paige took a deep breath. “If I decide to keep the baby, we'll do it again. And that time, you'll get to keep the child. So it might take two years, but I still promise to give you a child of your own.”

  I frowned, thinking that over. I didn't like that she thought she could make demands, but then again, I had wanted an intelligent woman, so I supposed this was what I got for that. I didn't like the idea of waiting for the second-born child, but then again, if I turned her down and had to go find a new woman to discuss this with, that would take time as well.

  “All right,” I agreed even though I didn’t like the changes. Then, I paused. “What if after you have the first child, though, the doctor says that you're not fit to have another child?”

  Paige frowned. “What if I carry the baby for eight or nine months and it's stillborn?” she challenged. “What if the baby has some cognitive disability and could never take over your business? You're asking me to deliver you a human life. There is always going to be the chance that you're not going to get a healthy baby.” She paused. “But then again, isn't that what business is all about? Risk and reward. I'm sure you've had investments flop before.”

  I thought that over for a second. “You're right,” I sighed. “I want this to work.” I continued to think it over for a moment. “What are your other changes?” I asked.

  “That's it,” Paige said, shrugging. “I need to be able to talk about this with my best friend, I need half the money up front, and I get to keep the first child if I find myself too attached to it.”

  “That all seems fair,” I said slowly. I nodded at Lee. “How long do you think it will take to draw up the paperwork?”

  “I can have it ready in fifteen minutes,” Lee said, already typing away on her laptop.

  “Okay,” I said, getting to my feet. I offered Paige a hand up. “We'll be in my office. Paige, why don't we go get some coffee,” I suggested.

  “So you own this whole place?” Paige asked curiously as I led her away from the conference room and back to my office.

  “Yeah,” I said, glancing around and trying to see it through her eyes. It was impressive, I supposed. “My father gave me a loan to start an investment company. The first thing I did was invest here, and since then, it's made me my millions. But lately, I don't have much hand in the actual goings-on of this company; I prefer to take the money I've made and invest it elsewhere. Currently, I'm working with a couple companies that promote scientific advancements in the renewable energy field. It could be very lucrative in the coming years.”

  “I'd imagine so,” Paige said, sounding interested. “So you'd expect your son or daughter to do the same?”

  I paused, thinking it over. “I'd like to have an heir for my fortunes,” I said finally. “But if they weren't interested in business, there are plenty of opportunities out there in the world. I can afford to send them to the best music schools in the world, or help secure the best internship opportunities. The kid will have whatever they want in the world.”

  “Sounds like you're on track to spoil them,” Paige said, a hint of a smile on her face. But I didn't like what she had said.

  “It's none of your business, how I choose to parent them,” I reminded her sharply. “If they're spoiled, that's my prerogative. You won't have any part in how the kid is raised.”

  I shouldn't have said it as sternly as I did, but I wanted to be realistic about this and make sure she was thinking through all the ramifications of signing the contract. If she was feeling at all wishy-washy about it, I had to know. I didn't know her very well, but I didn't want to get her involved in something she wasn't comfortable with.

  I didn't think I could give her the kind of relationship she must have always imagined for herself, and if she thought that was what this was, she was destined to be disappointed.

  Paige turned silent, but when Lee brought in the contracts a couple minutes later, her hand was steady as she signed her name.

  “You know, the timing is perfect,” she said with a laugh as Lee left the room. “I haven't had a chance to re-up my birth control prescription for the month, and I should be ovulating this week.”

  I grinned at her. “Well, in that case, why don't you come over to my house tonight?” I asked. “I'll make dinner, and we'll see where it takes us. Text me your address, and I'll have a driver come by to pick you up.”

  “Sounds good,” Paige said, her eyes already dark with lust. This was going to be too easy.

  I was surprised at myself. Sure, she was attractive, with those bright green, bewitching eyes of hers and that lithe, athletic physique. But I had ne
ver been so attracted to a woman before that I was impatient to bed her. And I had never invited a woman over to my place for dinner before.

  It was partly her intelligence, I knew that. It was the fact she had read through the contract and come up with a reasonable list of demands of her own. But still, I had to remind myself I couldn't be interested in her. Bedding her was just a means to an end. Once the child was born, I would have nothing to do with her.

  For some reason, the thought made me unhappy. It wasn't that I wanted a relationship, but perhaps I imagined us as friends. That would be too difficult, though, and too confusing.

  “See you tonight,” Paige said, giving a wave and then leaving me alone in my office.

  I sank into my desk chair, staring at the door and wondering if maybe this contract had been a mistake after all. It wasn't too late to go the clinical route, I didn't think.

  I shook my head and forced myself to look at some of my current investment opportunities. I was just overthinking things.

  Chapter Eight

  Paige

  I found myself surprisingly nervous when I went to Michael's house that evening. I frowned, wondering where those feelings were stemming from. Sure, the reason for my being there was that we were trying to conceive a child, but what it boiled down to was, it was just another fuck. Maybe a slightly more meaningful one than what I was used to, but it wasn't like Michael was looking for a relationship with me. In fact, he was emphatically not looking for a relationship with me.

  When Michael answered the door, he smiled and pulled me into an awkward hug, as though he didn't quite know how to proceed. I grinned: that made two of us.

  “Dinner's already on the table,” he told me, leading me into his beautiful penthouse apartment.

  I walked past the table for a moment, utterly enchanted by the floor-to-ceiling windows on the back wall of his apartment. He had the most incredible view out over the city, which was currently twinkling colorfully in the fast-fading evening light. “Wow,” I breathed.

  Michael was still smiling at me when I turned around. “I picked this place for the view alone,” he said.

  “It's impressive,” I said. Then, I got a good view of the dinner table. He hadn't lit candles or anything cheesy like that, but with the pasta and the wine and the centerpiece, it was undeniably romantic. I frowned at him. “I didn't realize this was that kind of thing,” I said slowly.

  Michael grimaced. “I didn't cook the food. Or set the table,” he told me. “I asked my maid to do it for me while I was finishing some things at work. She kind of went over the top. I hope that's okay?”

  “This isn't meant to be a romantic dinner with your girlfriend?” I asked, just to clarify. Maybe he was looking for something completely different out of this. Of course, we had signed the contract, so I didn't think he was looking for a relationship, but then again, I didn't know the guy.

  I remembered how lonely he had seemed the other night at the bar, and I wondered if maybe he wanted something more than a child, but he didn't know how to go about it. Maybe he thought if he took care of me during the baby's pregnancy, I would have to fall in love with him, and that would be that.

  I swallowed hard, wondering why the thought of being in a relationship with him didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. Honestly, it seemed kind of nice, thinking about the domestic life that we could build together.

  I shook my head and gave one last look at the table. “Let's just get this over with,” I said.

  If I wasn't mistaken, Michael grimaced a little, but he hid it well enough. He went over to the table and grabbed the glasses of wine, bringing one over to me. “How about this,” he said. “Instead of sitting down to a romantic meal at the table, we'll grab the plates and bring them over to the couch? We'll have a great view out over the city, but it'll be casual. More like two friends eating together than anything else.”

  I snorted, wondering whether sitting side-by-side on the couch was less romantic than sitting across from one another at the table. I took a sip of my wine and reached up to unbutton his collar. “Or,” I suggested, “we could just forego the dinner entirely and get down to the real business.”

  My voice was already lusty, and I could tell from the answering look that he was giving me that he was every bit as impatient to have sex as I was. I could feel heat pooling in my core already, my panties going damp. And when I looked down, I realized that his member was pressing against the front of his slacks. Good.

  Michael took a sip of his wine as well, giving me a considering look. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his fingers brushing back a stray lock of my hair.

  I nodded. I didn't know where my resolve was coming from, but I didn't regret signing the contract, no matter how many unanswered questions there were about what this was meant to be. I had to take it at face value.

  I stood on my tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was heated, as though we'd both been waiting a long time for it to happen. His lips moved against mine, asking a silent question, and I opened my mouth, already desperate for more. I used my grip on the lapels of his shirt to pull myself to him until there was no space between us, and I could feel his firm chest pressing against my breasts.

  As though reading my mind, Michael brought a hand up to cup one of those breasts, playing with my nipple through the fabric of my shirt and bra. I whimpered, wanting him to strip me down and touch me for real, but he was taking things slow.

  I frowned, wondering again if he was somehow more of a romantic than he had let on.

  But those thoughts were chased from my brain by the feel of his tongue sliding against mine, drawing little whimpers out of me. My knees felt weak, and it was only his strong arm around my lower back that kept me upright, pressed against him.

  I couldn't help it: he used the perfect amount of pressure and finesse, immediately finding my tender spots and using them to his advantage. I could only imagine how this was going to go once we moved it to the bedroom.

  Again, it was like Michael read my mind. He nipped at my lower lip, causing a hot spark of lust to course through me. Then, he pulled away from the kiss, giving me a quizzical look. “Bedroom?” he suggested.

  I blinked, feeling as though it took all my brainpower to focus on him again. Ooh, I was in it deep. He had already touched me, and already I was coming apart for him. “Bedroom,” I agreed breathlessly.

  Michael grabbed my hand and led the way.

  Before I had a chance to take in what the room looked like, Michael was on me again. This time, it was his fingers that were impatiently undressing me, starting with my shirt and ending with my skirt. He took a step back, just staring at me in my panties and bra, and I fought not to blush.

  With Erica's help, I had chosen a sexy black number that bordered on lingerie rather than everyday wear. I was glad for it now, seeing the way Michael's eyes darkened. I raised an eyebrow at him and made my way over to the bed, stretching out on it and giving him an expectant look.

  Michael shook his head and hurriedly removed his own clothing, leaving it in a pile on the floor. He fished in his pocket for a moment and then froze, giving an embarrassed chuckle. “Guess I won't be needing one of those,” he said, no doubt referring to the condoms that he would normally use. He frowned and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know, one of the stipulations in the contract was that you have a full check-up before we did this.”

  I couldn’t believe he was thinking about that now. I rolled my eyes. “I had a checkup last month,” I told him. “I go in for one every year. Nothing wrong with me, and no sexual infections.”

  “Okay,” Michael said slowly.

  I rolled my eyes again. “If we're going to make a baby, you're going to have to trust me,” I pointed out. “I know it's weird to trust someone that you hardly know, but that's what you're getting yourself in for. Are you still willing to do this?”

  In answer, Michael knelt on the bed and crawled towards me, covering my body with his warm,
tanned one. I ran my hands appreciatively up his muscular torso, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I could feel his hard-on pressing against my hip, and I shifted, trying to get him to quit with the foreplay and get inside me. I felt as though I was going to combust if he didn't.

  But if anything, Michael slowed things down even further, trailing kisses across my skin, his hands sliding down and resting on my hips. I whimpered, shifting restlessly, and he moved a hand between my legs, but his touches were playful and almost without intent.

  “Michael, please,” I said, my voice soft and plaintive.

  Michael drew back, staring down at me. “You're incredibly beautiful,” he said quietly, his hand stroking down my side.

  I felt an uncharacteristic blush creep across my features, and I suddenly remembered that we were doing this so that we could create a life. The moment was heavy, impregnated with meaning, and I suddenly wasn't sure that I was ready to do this. But Michael was already pushing inside my wet, slick hole, his member throbbing inside of me, and I couldn't tell him to stop now.

  Nor did I want to. God, he fit so perfectly inside of me, as though my hole were made for him. I couldn't help clenching around him, and he gave a quick thrust of his hips in response. I gasped and scrambled to find a hand-hold in the sheets, something to ground me.

  Michael grinned at my reaction and repeated the thrust, this time burying himself deeper, practically slicing me in two. I howled with pleasure, unable to hold back. My hands moved from the sheets to his forearms, and I used them for leverage, pushing into his movements and urging him on.

  Michael snapped his hips back and forth, pounding into me, and I fell back against the sheets, moaning in ecstasy. I couldn't tell if I was coming or not; the pleasure was totally off the charts. I was shaking all over, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could take this.

  Then, Michael slowed down, his movements gentling. He stroked his hands across my body, as though he wanted to touch every inch of my skin. When I managed to make eye contact with him, he was staring down at me as though he couldn't believe that I was there with him. As though he were totally enraptured.

 

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