Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance

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Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance Page 127

by Eva Luxe


  After that, I’d carry her inside and lay her down in front of the fireplace, on my big bear rug. I’d spread her legs and eat her pussy until she was so hot and sweaty she was begging me to stop, because I’d licked and sucked on her clit until she had cum in my mouth so much her nerve endings were fried. It would be her turn, then, to take my cock in her mouth and suck it until she was choking on it, until I was emptying myself down into her throat and she was swallowing it up and begging me for more.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Despite being angry at her for violating my boundaries, I found myself smiling as I walked down the hall back to my study. Snap out of it, I told myself. There’s no way that I could ever get a girl like that to see me as anything more than a monster.

  But that didn’t stop me from taking my cock out and thinking about her while I stroked it. For the first time in a very long time, I was able to cum.

  This was good news for my cock, but, as I hurried to clean up my mess lest the little singer decide to wander into yet another room and find me literally with my pants down, my dick in hand, having just had a great orgasm while jerking off to the thought of her, it was bad news for my heart. She had already captured it, just by walking into my house and my life for the first time ever.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Chapter 6 – Hope

  My heart was beating so fast. I was so scared. I didn’t know if Mr. King was going to yell at me, or, worse, fire my mom because I was in the library, a part of the house that apparently was very off limits. I couldn’t find my voice. I opened my mouth several times, trying to explain myself, but nothing intelligent seemed to come out.

  As soon as he walked out of the library, I ran. I couldn’t quite remember what direction I’d come in, but I ran nonetheless. Because the cabin was so big, I had to run quite far until I came to anything recognizable.

  Finally, I arrived in a part of the house that looked familiar. I glanced over and saw the kitchen where I’d placed the food that my mother had prepared and made a beeline for the front door. I was scared and embarrassed. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

  I jumped into my car, started the engine, and sped out of the driveway, almost hitting the gate on my way out. My heart was beating out of my chest, and my chest was starting to tighten. I tried to breathe, but couldn’t seem to get enough air. I didn’t know how I was going to explain this to my mother.

  When I got home, I found my mother sitting at the kitchen table with opened mail scattered around her. She had tears in her eyes and her head hung low.

  “Mom? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

  My mother almost never cried. She always portrayed a strong, confident woman who was proud of being capable of taking care of her family. Something must be really wrong. My heart started to beat fast again, for the second time in less than an hour.

  “No,” answered my mother, sounding defeated. “I’m just drowning in bills and I have no idea how I am going to pay them.”

  She collapsed into a coughing fit, struggling to catch her breath.

  When she finally stopped, she was able to wheeze out, “I wasn’t wanting to tell you, but it’s getting to the point where I just can’t keep up. You need to know because it could affect our living situation. If they were to evict us…”

  She broke into sobs and wheezing again. It wasn’t good for her to work herself into such upset in this fragile of a condition.

  “Mom, it’s okay,” I reassured her, rubbing her back while she continued to cough. I hated seeing her this way. “We’re going to be okay.”

  My mom shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “I just don’t know how, Hope. The money that I’m making working is just not enough. And now, with me being so sick and having doctor’s bills on top of it, I just don’t see how we’re going to make it.”

  My mother broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt so bad for her. It was a huge load to carry alone and I knew it. And to be sick on top of it. I felt helpless as I watched my mother fall apart.

  Stopping abruptly and uncovering her tear-stained face, she asked, “Why are you back so early? I know that you can work pretty fast, but there’s no way that you did that whole big house already. Even just the parts we’re allowed into are huge.”

  I really didn’t want to give her more bad news, especially considering she was already stressed and upset. But, I knew that I was going to have to tell her sooner rather than later, so I figured I might as well treat it like a band aid that had to come off, and just rip right into it.

  “Okay, don’t be mad…”

  “Oh, no,” my mother groaned. I thought that she was going to collapse right there at the table. “I hate when you start things off that way. It’s a guarantee that I will be mad.”

  “I was in the library…”

  “Why were you in the library?” my mother interrupted wildly. “You are never supposed to step foot on that side of the house! I told you that.”

  “I know! I’m sorry,” I told her, sincerely. “I was just trying to get a look at the house. It’s huge! And then I got lost, and couldn’t remember which part you said not to go into. Nor did I even know which part I was in after a while. It was like some crazy maze.”

  I laughed, but my mother just shook her head at me. She clearly didn’t find what I was saying to be very funny.

  “But, anyway,” I rushed to continue, “I think I startled Mr. King or something and he came into the library with a bat, like I was a burglar or something. He freaked out on me. So I guess I just got really scared, and I left.”

  Did I look scared? I wondered. I thought I had managed to hide it pretty well. I played coy, and it seemed as if there was a connection between Mr. King and me. After all, he hadn’t kicked me out then and there. He had told me to go clean. There must have been something about me that made him want to keep me around.

  It could have just been consideration for my mother, whom he had admitted was a great employee. But I’d like to think it was something more. Maybe his tall frame would be good at picking me up and throwing me down on the bed. I’d never even had sex before and I was saving my virginity for someone who knew what they were doing, unlike all the dorky guys I’d kissed in high school.

  I bet Mr. King would definitely know what he was doing. He looked at me like he wanted to ravish me. But, I tried to stay focused on the matter at hand, so I wouldn’t be distracted and not pay attention to what my mom was saying. She hated when I did that, and it was clear that she really needed my help right now, and I was just messing things up even further for her.

  “Hope!” my mother shouted. “I’m sitting here stressed about paying the bills and this could potentially really set me back. Mr. King pays me the most out of all my cleaning or cooking clients, so I really can’t afford to lose him. Especially right now.”

  Those had been my thoughts the whole drive back from Mr. King’s mansion. I was letting my mom down. I was adding to her stress. I had to fix this.

  “I’m sure that everything will be okay.” I said it with a forceful tone, trying to convince myself as much as my mother.

  “You have to go back and clean that house. There is really no other way around it.”

  Going back into that house was one of the last things that I wanted to do. But, I couldn’t bear to let my mom down again. I couldn’t stand the thought that I could possibly be the reason that she would shed more tears. I was willing to do anything, even voluntarily go back into that house, where Mr. King was very mad at me.

  But, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that I was curious about seeing Mr. King again. And I had a feeling that beneath his tough guy exterior, he wanted to see me again, too.

  “Of course, Mom. I’ll go back and do an amazing job. And I know what else I’ll do. I’ll bake him an apple pie. There’s no way that he can still be mad if I bring him one of those. Everyone always says my apple pies are the best.”

  “He was mad?” aske
d my mother, fear beginning to creep into her voice.

  “Well, not mad. But, I don’t think that he was happy that I was in that part of the house.”

  My mother fell silent and her gaze drifted off. She was lost in her thoughts and I could tell. I was about to scream because I couldn’t stand the silence, but she finally spoke.

  “I’m sure he was mad, since he doesn’t like anyone going near him. But, you do have a certain way with people. And with baking goods. Hopefully your pie really can win him over. Thank you, Hope,” she said, mustering the strength to let a plastic smile play about her lips.

  “You’re welcome, Mom,” I said, squeezing her shoulders and then walking toward my bedroom.

  I closed the door to my bedroom once I got there and sunk to the floor against it. I could still hear the faint sound of my mother crying. I had messed up, big time. I thought that my heart was going to break.

  I could only hope that my apple pie could save things. That, and perhaps the fact that Mr. King seemed to like having me in his presence. His words might say otherwise, but his eyes betrayed the truth. I would just have to do whatever it took to win his affection.

  When I finally heard my mom’s sobs stop, I realized she had gone into her room to lay down. Good, she needed the rest.

  I still couldn’t manage to get the thoughts of Mr. King out of my mind. He looked at me like he wanted to tear my clothes off. And I wanted to let him.

  I was sick of being a virgin. I wondered if Mr. King might stop being mad at me if I took my clothes off for him and let him get a really good look at my body, which he obviously seemed to like.

  I let my hands trail down to my jeans and I unzipped the fly. I wanted to touch myself, just a little, as I’m sure Mr. King wanted to do, too.

  I pretended his hands were my hands as I pinched my clit, a little hard, like I had the feeling he would do. Soon I was rubbing myself as I imagined him ordering me on my hands and knees. I didn’t know where this fantasy was coming from, but I liked it, so I went with it.

  I plunged the finger of my other hand deep inside my pussy as I continued working my clit back and forth, up and down. I bet Mr. King had a big cock, to match his big, toned body. One of the rooms had been a work out room, with a towel slung over one machine and a water bottle placed up against another one. So, he obviously worked out and had a rock hard body. I knew he had to have a big, rock hard cock to match.

  I put another finger inside me to try to stretch myself out because I knew Mr. King’s cock was big.

  I’m ready for you, I thought, as I fingered my pussy and rubbed my clit. Wetness gathered, hot and sticky, on my hands as I thought about how good it would feel for Mr. King to fuck me. I want you to take me for my very first time.

  I imagined him taking me from behind, holding onto my ass and pushing me on and off his cock as he thrust himself in and out of me. The thought was so hot I came all over, gushing out liquid I didn’t even realized had pooled up inside me. My panties had been dripping wet and I would have thought all of it had fallen out as I stood there in fear but also turned on as he was looking at me when he caught me in his library.

  What if next time when he caught me, I was naked? I thought, my face burning when I thought about how I’d just masturbated while thinking about him. I bet then he’d have to punish me good and hard.

  It almost seemed like a dream too good to come true. That an older man— my mom had told me he was in his thirties— as rich, powerful, and reclusive as Mr. King would want to take my virginity.

  My breath came out fast and quick as I took off my jeans and started to change into comfier sweatpants. I felt weak-kneed, a result of my desire for him and the force with which I’d just made myself cum by thinking about him.

  I was glad my mother was making me face my fear and go back to see him again. I’d offer the apple pie— and anything else it took— to win his forgiveness. And I couldn’t help but hope he’d make it a little hard on me to earn.

  Chapter 7 – Darren

  “Midland Surrogacy Agency,” answered a nasal voice on the other end of the phone.

  “Yes. I would like to make an appointment.”

  “Please hold.”

  Before I could respond, she had put me on hold and I could hear soft elevator music playing. Damn it. I always became so impatient on the phone but this time was even worse.

  I had finally made up my mind about what I was going to do, and now this ungrateful receptionist— of a company to whom I was trying to give a lot of money for its services— was making me wait. And she wasn’t the first one to do that. You’d think places that stand to benefit financially would move a lot faster in providing services, but that was not turning out to be the case.

  Plus, I was just fucking grumpy all around, for multiple reasons. Hope had left without cleaning. I was going to have to fire her— and Eve too, I suppose, for sending her daughter without telling me, and not ensuring she wouldn’t be a nuisance. I still couldn’t believe she would do that. She must have been really under the weather.

  I wasn’t sure I had the heart to fire poor Eve. As I listened to the boring elevator music, I had to admit that truth to myself. She’d worked for me faithfully. If she was feeling bad enough to send her daughter, then she must be seriously sick. And then, she wouldn’t have had any other choice except to leave me in a lurch without cleaning or cooking services—even though that’s precisely what I had ended up with today. That wasn’t Eve’s fault, though—she couldn’t help that her daughter was so bad at the job she herself was so good at.

  Perhaps I would just have to tell her to never send anyone else again. That would be a hard order to obey, if she was sick. What would I ever do without Eve? I wondered. I sure hoped that she was feeling better soon— for her sake as well as for my own. But I knew I had no control over that.

  All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t chance seeing Hope in my house again. I was unable to get her out of my mind and that wasn’t fucking like me at all. I didn’t get smitten. I was always the one in control.

  I thought what bothered me the most about the whole thing was that she had left. I could and should have kicked her out the moment I caught her in my library, which was off limits, trying to steal one of my books, no less. But I had told her to go clean and she had just left.

  Perhaps I was so frustrated because I wanted to take her over my lap and spank her, but I couldn’t do that. Could I? She was the daughter of my employee. That would only complicate things. And complication was something I tried to avoid. I wanted to live a simple life, devoid of drama.

  So, I was determined to find a surrogate to carry a child for me. The scare that I’d had with the doctor giving me the bad news made me realize that there wasn’t much time left. I needed to make a baby right away— not only because, according to Dr. Milton, if I didn’t act now I might lose any chance I may have, but for other reasons I didn’t even like to think about because they were too damn depressing.

  After eight calls to different agencies and being flat out turned down or being told that I basically had to jump through hoops of fire to get a surrogate, I started to get a little disappointed. It seems that paying a lot of money to have someone carry my baby is harder than I thought it would be.

  But then, I mentioned how much money I had. And how I would happily pay any amount required to have a baby. Then, everyone changed their tune. Suddenly, it was all about getting me what I wanted— but not nearly in the way that I wanted it, or on my own timeline. Apparently, not even a shit ton of money can buy those things.

  One of the things that they told me is that I would have to leave the house to do this. I tried to see if arrangements could be made for a surrogate to come to my house. I was even willing to pay a lot extra for it. No such luck.

  It was going to be a parade of lawyers, surrogacy agency representatives and potential candidates, not to mention that I didn’t want just any surrogate. I wanted one that I was comfortable with and that’s a ta
ll order. So, that meant tedious interviews until I found the perfect one. It just seemed like the agency wanted me to take part in some type of lottery where the nearest surrogate would be assigned to me. I wasn’t okay with that.

  I was starting to get a headache just thinking about the process. I didn’t want to do any of it. I wanted to keep my peace and privacy. I didn’t want to be exposed to the rest of the world, have people staring at me, reminding me why no one would ever accept me in the first place.

  Plus, for those reasons I didn’t like to think about, I needed to start the surrogacy process now, for real, so that I could have a baby for Christmas. If I didn’t, it would be too late. So, I didn’t have time to go through all this rigmarole. I needed the pregnancy to start right away.

  My terrible secret was eating me up. It was part of the reason why I didn’t want to be around anyone.

  If anyone were to ever know…

  I couldn’t help but think about what had happened, the incident that made it hard for me to connect with other people. As much as I had tried to hide from it and forget about it, there it was almost staring me in the face.

  I couldn’t think about it. As soon as I had a baby, I could face it, but not before then. It looked as if I really would have to do this process the old fashioned way. It seemed that even though Mother Nature worked slowly, her timeline was surprisingly faster than waiting around on some agency to make decisions.

  It was clear that I was going to have to take matters into my own hands— or, cock. And hopefully I could find a willing participant.

  Chapter 8 – Hope

  I had never dressed up to work at cleaning job, but before I left home, I put on a skirt with a tight sweater. I took extra time to fix my hair and tame my wild curls. I even threw on a little makeup.

 

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