Faking It (Single Dad Fake Marriage Box Set#1-5)

by J. J. Bella

  Evan turned to me as if to ask, "do you mind?"

  I nodded, and they were off, already in lively chatter as they left. I sighed, Elizabeth's class and beauty fresh in my mind. And Oxford. She was the type of woman that I would expect Evan to be interested in, not some young nothing like me.

  I made my way the bar, finding the group of students from Stanford and passing an hour or so with them. But as time went on, I couldn't help but want to talk to Evan. I was so used to his company that being away from him, even for a little while, was strange. Not to mention the little pangs of jealousy that I was feeling towards Elizabeth.

  Finally, my curiosity got the better of me, and I went looking for the two. Pint in hand, a buzz swimming in my mind, I set out for the back porch. There were a handful of people out there, and I peeked my head past the door.

  My heart sank when I laid eyes on Evan.

  He was sitting with Elizabeth, her hand on his thigh as she leaned in close him as they spoke. She was clearly flirting, and little peals of laughter sounded out from her every now and then. They looked to be about five minutes from getting it on then and there.

  My stomach in a small knot, I headed back inside. I took a long swig of my beer and scanned the room for Sam. Spotting him in the crowd, I walked towards him, my strides long and purposeful.

  Chapter Twelve

  "I must say," said Elizabeth, looking deep into my eyes as she spoke, the browns of her own a deep, dark chocolate, "it's been absolutely lovely catching up with you, Evan."

  "Yeah, it has been," I said, taking a long sip of my drink.

  Elizabeth sipped her martini slowly as she looked up at me, a stray strand of blonde hair curving over her delicate features.

  "It's such a shame that you're heading back to the states tomorrow," she said, finally speaking. "It would be quite the coup to have you on our crew for this next dig."

  "Believe me," I said, "I'd love to get right into another site, but I've got so much material with this dig that it's going to take me a good year to sift through it."

  "Well," said Elizabeth, "if there's one thing those of us in our line of work are good at, it's sifting."

  I let out a small snort at this corny little pun.

  "So much for the sophisticated sense of humor they say you Brits have; I thought you'd be above puns."

  "You'll find that there's not much I'm not afraid to get down with," said Elizabeth, leaning closer to me as she spoke.

  It was clear what she wanted. Elizabeth and I had already indulged in a fling one weekend years back, and I knew right away what was on her mind from the moment she walked up to me. But I was hesitant; something about it just didn't seem right, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

  "I sense hesitation," said Elizabeth, her hand now on my thigh. "Let me see if I can make my argument a little more persuasive."

  Her hand moved up further, her touch eventually grazing over my cock through my slacks. I sat upright at this, slightly taken aback by her boldness.

  "What's the matter? I didn't think that you Americans were such prudes."

  "It's not that," I said. "It's just…it doesn't feel right."

  "What on earth does that mean?" asked Elizabeth, simultaneously amused and annoyed by my behavior. "too good for a quick fuck in the parking lot?"

  "No," I said. "It just…I don't know."

  Elizabeth removed her hand from my tight and sat back, her eyes wide with surprise.

  "Surely it's not that doe-eyed little co-ed that you had at your side? Evan, I never thought you'd be the type to indulge in such a fashion."

  "There's nothing going on between us," I said, now feeling a little perturbed. "And there's nothing going on between you and me, either.”

  I thought the matter over a little more.

  “You know what? It's been lovely talking to you, Elizabeth, but I think I'd like a little time alone now."

  Elizabeth's mouth dropped open a bit, her red lips in a slight O of surprise, her arms crossed over her chest.

  "Well," she said, standing up, "I'll give you all the peace and quiet you need; you're not the only eligible bachelor here tonight, you know. Have a wonderful evening."

  With that, she darted away from the table and back inside, leaving me to just what the hell had happened, and why. I sat for a moment trying to sort out my thoughts, finishing my beer and enjoying the solitude.

  After a time, I went back into the bar to look for Roxanne. Scanning the packed room, I spotted her at a small, secluded booth with Sam, one of the other interns from the site. To my chagrin, my heart sank a bit when I saw that there was some mild flirtatiousness happening between them. But I put these thoughts aside as I went for another drink, remembering that anything happening between her and I wasn't a good idea.

  But when I returned with my drink, I saw a different scene when I glanced over at Roxanne. Sam seemed to now be in her personal space, getting closer than it appeared Roxanne was wanting. I saw his hand fall on her thigh, Roxanne moving it right away, only for him to put it right back, his fingers crawling down to the hem of her skirt. Roxanne's face was now one of fear and anger, and it was clear that Sam was taking things further than Roxanne wanted.

  Setting my beer on the bar, I marched over to the booth.

  "Everything good over here?" I asked, looking down at the pair.

  Roxanne looked away, as though in shame.

  "Yeah, Professor McCall," said Sam, his voice slurring. "Just havin' a relaxing night, you know?"

  But his dopey, drunk-eyed expression was a stark contrast to Roxanne tight, fearful face. It was clear what was happening.

  "I think it's time to call it a night, Sam," I said, reaching down to grab his arm.

  To my shock, he jerked his arm away.

  "Hey, don't fuckin' touch me," he said. "I saw her first."

  Now his face was hardened in the way that only a stupid drunk boy's could get.

  "Last chance to come to your senses, Sam," I said, glaring down at the kid.

  "Fuck off," he said, his tone both edged and slurred.

  "As you like it," I said.

  Reaching down and grabbing hard onto his upper arm, I yanked him out of the booth and dragged him across the bar, the eyes of everyone nearby on us. Sam struggled, but his strength was no match for mine. I approached Professor Lincoln Sharpe, the head of Sam's team.

  "I think one of your students is getting a little out of line," I said, looking into the Professor's aged face.

  "He's makin' shit up," said Sam. "He's jealous."

  Professor Sharpe shook his head, as though not surprised by Sam's behavior.

  "I think it's time we got you back to the hotel, Samuel," the professor said. "Apologies for my student; it won't happen again.

  I let the professor know that all was good before turning my attention back to Roxanne. Grabbing my beer from the bar, I slid back into the booth where she still sat. She was a little shaken up, but as she calmed down the more I sat with her.

  "You OK?" I asked.

  "Yeah," she said, shaking off the last drops of her stress. "He seemed like a nice dude at first, but the more he drank, the worse he got."

  "That's college guys for you," I said, realizing as soon as I said the words that I was trash-talking guys like Sam as compared to, well, guys like me.

  Roxanne threw back the last few sips of her drink and stood up from the booth.

  "You care if we go for a walk?" she asked. "I don't mean to be a buzzkill, but I think I'm about ready to get out of here. For a little while, at least."

  "Sure," I said, a walk sounding good to me.

  I guzzled down the last third of my beer and stood up. After saying my goodbyes to the rest of the team, I walked out to the back porch with Roxanne, then down the stairs that led to a wide alley between the buildings. It was a nice path, the ground paved with cobblestones and lit with soft, orange lighting, almost like an alleyway from a century ago.

  Our steps echoed
down the alley as we walked, the evening air clear and warm.

  "You know, I could've stuck up for myself," said Roxanne, her voice taking on an edge.

  "Oh really?" I said. "You know, I'm responsible for you here, and I can't really take any chances when it comes to you being pawed at by idiot drunk kids."

  She stopped in her tracks. "Well, you didn't need to step in like you were my dad or something. He was being an idiot, but you didn't need to make a scene."

  "I ended a scene before one started. And you didn't seem to be handling the situation so hot on your own. Besides, did you really expect me to just stand there and watch?"

  "I don't know; you seemed pretty interested in that blonde British girl," she said, rolling her eyes.

  "Please," I said. "You're acting like a child."

  "Well, I'm not a child; I'm an adult capable of making my own decisions and handing myself."

  "Then you've got a really funny way of showing it."

  Roxanne opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she clenched her hands into fists and stomped a foot on the ground. I knew that she was just throwing a little bit of a tantrum over me bailing her, a grown adult, out of a situation like that, so I was fine with letting her get it out of her system.

  But as she stood there, I examined my own motivations for why I did what I did. Sure, I was responsible for her in the most technical sense, but there was more to it than that. I felt protective over Roxanne, like it was my duty to keep her safe in a more meaningful way.

  Then a felt a small pang in my heart, like a tugging. This feeling signaled a realization to me, a truth breaking loose and making itself known: I was jealous. I hated the idea of that little twerp putting his hands on Roxanne. Looking down at her in that alley, at her small frame before me, at her big green eyes staring at me with some strange mixture of anger and passion, I knew what I had to do.

  Slipping my hand behind her head, placing my palm on the cool, delicate skin of her neck, I leaned in and kissed her.

  The kiss seemed odd at first, as though I had simply leaned in to give her a hug and a slight slip placed my lips on hers. Our bodies stiffened, and neither of us seemed to know what to do with our hands. But soon we found our pace. My kiss was chaste at first, but soon I allowed myself to fall into it, to place my hands on the curves of her hips, to allow one hand to move around her back and to come to a rest on the top of her backside.

  Soon, my blood began to race, and our grips on one another became more firm. My hand moved from the small of her back to her rear, and our lips parted as our tongues sought one another's. We began to kiss harder, the passion that had been building for the last several weeks breaking through like the water finally crashing through the small crack in a dam. I pushed her back against the wall of the alley, her arms spreading up and over her head, her hands searching over my body. I did the same with mine, allowing my touch to move over the curves that had been enticing me ever since I saw her that night in her towel.

  Her hands then made their way up my shirt, the soft touch of her fingertips dancing along my stomach as they moved up and up. Roxanne then became bold, her right hand moving along my waist, then down to the front of my pants, where an erection was already straining against the fabric. She moved her fingers over the bulge, teasing me, shivers running up my spine as she did. I returned the favor, moving my own hands up her shirt over her flat, smooth stomach, up towards the hard bottom border of her bra. The other moved down between her legs then up towards her sex, the side of my hand rubbing her through her jeans. I couldn't help myself. I wanted more and more and-

  The sound of footsteps down the alley from the direction of the bar broke us apart. We ceased our kiss, and continued the walk that had been interrupted. Without a word, we made our way down the alley, a faint fog having gathered, surrounding our illicit passion like the haze of a dream.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I couldn't believe what had happened; I'd just made out with my professor. Our kiss was broken up by someone coming, but who knows what would've happened if no one had bothered us.

  We walked down the rest of the alley, neither of us saying a word. I didn't know how to react, or what to think. Part of me was mortified that we'd done what we'd just done, the other part wanted to get to the car, climb in the back, and finish what we'd started.

  But right now, I didn't know what to say.

  We reached the end of the alley, which brought us out to a road that ran perpendicular to the one where we were parked. I glanced around at the quaint buildings that lined the streets, the shops and apartments packed along both sides of the roads. It was quiet on the street, hardly anyone around except for us; it was almost like we had the entire city to ourselves.

  By the time we reached the car, we still hadn't said a single word to one another. My blood was racing; I was shocked by the kiss, but as soon as I'd overcome the surprise I was more than happy to indulge in it. And as we stepped into the enclosed space of the interior of the car and pulled the doors shut, I secretly hoped that Evan would pull me close and kiss me hard again.

  But he didn't he put the keys in the ignition, turned on the car, and pulled out onto the main road.

  "You sure you're OK to drive?" I asked.

  I yelled at myself internally for the question as soon as the left my mouth.

  Mommying him? Really? I thought, shaking my head.

  "I'm fine," he said.

  I shut right up after that.

  We made our way back to the winding road that led to our cottage, and I turned back as we drove, taking one last look at the city at night behind us. I was looking forward to getting back to the States, but this place did have a certain charm. Like the kind of place you could move to after you retired, where you'd get to know all the locals, spend your evenings at the pub, and the days with your husband, the professor that you fell for here so many years ago…

  I snapped myself out of this fantasy, not believing that I'd be so dumb and childish as to fantasize like that about my professor. I felt like a little girl having her first crush on some cute English teacher at middle school, writing my initials and his in the middle of little hearts in my notebook.

  I turned my attention to the passing road, watching the landscape through the window, my head still swimming from the beer. Soon, we arrived at the cottage.

  "I had a nice night," said Evan, the car parked and the engine off.

  "Yeah," I said, my voice warm.

  Then, we sat in silence for a moment, the air in the car still and quiet. I didn't know what he was going to do. Instead of the kiss I was hoping for, however, he simply got out of the car and made his way back to the house. Disappointed, I followed him.

  "The flight's not until noon tomorrow, so you don't have to get up all that early," he said. "But I'm gonna hit the hay now. Good night."

  With that, he went upstairs to his room, leaving me alone at the foot of the tall set of stairs. I didn't know what else to do, so I went to my room and looked over my luggage for the tenth time, confirming that everything was there. Once I did, I stripped down to my underwear and lay down on the bed. I thought I was too wired, too keyed up to fall asleep, but I was out just as soon as my head touched the pillow.

  My dream was so similar to what had happened over the course of the evening that my first sensation was a bizarre feeling of déjà vu.

  I was back in the alley, that little road between the buildings behind the pub. First, I was alone, confused, and unsure of how I got there. I looked around, but not a soul was to be seen.

  Then, when I made one last frantic turn, now sure that I was by myself, I came face-to-face with Evan. He stood still in front of me, his blue eyes luminous and bright even in the dark, his coal black hair wet and slicked back, and his lips full and sensual. But instead of his fashionable-but-professional outfit that had on last evening, he was wearing a black dress shirt with the buttons unbuttoned low, showing off the toned, muscular torso that I had seen when
he was wearing his towel.

  He reached out for me, and I eagerly ran into his embrace. Holding me, he looked down, deep into my eyes, and I felt as though he was casting some spell on me; I was totally transfixed by his beauty.

  Then, he leaned in and kissed me. Unlike the kiss in real life, this one had none of the surprise; it was passionate and deep right from the start. We kissed hard, our tongues slipping into each other's mouths, his taste strong and intoxicating. He moved his lips away from mine, kissing up and down the side of my neck, his hands undoing my top and pulling it off over my shoulders. I did the same, taking off his shirt and running my hands over his hard, toned body.

  Soon, we were both naked, and I stood before him, his eyes on my body with a hunger that was seemed almost animalistic. My own gaze moved down to his cock, which was long, thick, and hard. He then pounced on me, moving his arms under my hips and lifting me by my ass. I wrapped my legs around his hips as he kissed me once more. Evan pushed my back against the wall, the brick cool and hard on my back. My eyes moving down, I saw his cock right near my sex, and I wanted nothing more than for him to shove it deep into me.

  As if reading my mind, he took his cock by the base, positioned it right near my opening, and…

  The alarm on my phone brought me back to the waking world. Looking around, I saw that it was daylight, the dream now a fading memory in my mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I dropped Roxanne back at her apartment, I wanted to bang my head against the steering wheel of my car. I still couldn't believe that I'd been so stupid, so careless, so unprofessional as to kiss the student who I had been trusted to look after during our trip. I felt like a predator that got Roxanne drunk, only to take advantage of her. I knew this wasn't true, and that she was clearly just as into what was going on as I was, but I couldn't help feel as though I'd committed some sort off grave trespass.

  Watching her walked up to the front doors of her apartment building, however, a throwing a smile and a wave over her shoulder as she did, made me want nothing more than to run up to her, lift her off of her feet, take her to bedroom and ravish her.