Fake Fiancé

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Fake Fiancé Page 7

by Jessa James


  Hearing her words, watching those lovely lips saying them, I began to think that I might like being taken out of circulation—by this woman. I didn’t know, of course, but I had an idea that she could keep me satisfied, interested, like no other woman I’d ever known. This was the longest I’d ever held attention on a woman in my entire life, but I wasn’t bored yet.

  Her phone rang and she answered. She pushed a button. “Blake and I are in a limo, Ralph. I’m putting you on speaker.”

  “It looks as if the plan is going in the right direction,” he said. “This morning I got a call from an agency that handles endorsements…the one I’ve been talking to, and they have some interested companies. He doesn’t want to rush things because bigger fish will probably be interested as well. And, of course, Blake, that assumes you get your head out of your ass and play hockey.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I already got that tender ass reaming by the coach.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Keep in mind that any endorsement deal is going to be contingent on you getting your contract renewed, and from the way Tom Lassiter screamed in my ear, he isn’t thinking kindly of you at the moment.”

  I felt the need to defend myself. I played great all the time. I had one bad day and I felt like I was thrown to the sharks. “Everyone has a day when…”

  “Starting players don’t, my friend—not during the playoffs.”

  “I’ll be on it tomorrow,” I promised, and I meant it.

  “Good. Keep in mind that if you’re the driving force throughout the playoffs, that new contract will include a more than healthy payday. You just have to play this game for a little while and then you can go back to being the asshole only you know how to be. Do this for yourself, do it for me.”

  “I’ll be on my game.”

  Chloe put it in her pocket. I looked over at her. She seemed distant. She was like a light switch that turned on and off. The car had pulled away and the crowds were long gone. With them, the cameras, the reporters, the fans. I was afraid my fake life was becoming more important to me than my real life—and that was going to end in nothing but complete fucking disaster.

  “What is it?” I asked her, but she simply turned her face away and stared out the window. I sat back, feeling the frosty silence and wondering what had her so deeply upset.

  “I’ll play well next week,” I said again, feeling sick. It was like talking to an empty room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blake

  Her limo took us back to my place. The entire way I noted a swarm of cars around us.

  “I wonder why there’s so much traffic?”

  “Reporters,” she said curtly. “They’re going to be after blood now.”

  “Why? Has something changed?” I felt some nervous jitters start to rise from within me. I hated being kept in the dark about things.

  “I’ll tell you inside.”

  I unlocked the door and when we went in she closed the blinds, frustrating the reporters who’d managed to find places that gave them a view. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked. I could hear the muffled sound of reporters talking outside.

  I looked at her, studying that face of hers splayed in anger and I had no idea where it was coming from. “Wrong with me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “The reason there are more reporters out there than ever is that they’re looking for the reason Blake Collins suddenly is off his game.” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “You’re a god on the ice, Blake. What is going on with you?”

  I shrugged. I had no idea, but I was pretty sure I was staring at it. For the first time in my life, I wanted something else more than I wanted to play hockey.

  “Ralph was right. Tom was furious. The way you played was not what the crowd or the team wanted to see. Your heart wasn’t in it.”

  He shrugged. “I played okay, it wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t total shit either.” I didn’t care for the way she was chastising me. She had no idea what it was like out there.

  “It’s just not you, Blake.” Was that a compliment? From the ice queen? The woman who could barely stand to look at me? That got my attention. “The trouble is that you should’ve won that game.”

  As much as I hated this moment where she was talking to me like a child, I knew she was right and that stung. Winnipeg hadn’t played their best game and we had several chances to win it, but we blew it instead. I blew it. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it back.”

  “You better. You’re already fighting an uphill battle to get your contract renewed. And the endorsements depend on you playing a top game. There is no point in cleaning up your image if your game goes into the toilet. I’m trying to help you here Blake, but you have to meet me halfway.”

  I sat down on the couch, watching her, taking in her posture. She was upset, but I didn’t think it was about the hockey game. Not all of it at least. I didn’t know if I had let her down too. I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me. Why I cared about her opinion, I had no idea, but I did. A lot.

  “Yeah, well no one can be one-hundred percent all the time.” I still felt the need to defend myself a little. I wasn’t the only damn player on the team after all. I couldn’t carry everybody. It wasn’t my job to babysit my teammates.

  She gave me a thin smile. “They are going to think that you lost your edge. That being in love changed you.”

  “So now I’m in love and I’ve lost my edge?” I scoffed.

  “That’s what they’ll think.”

  “I feel like I have to be two people. That’s fucking hard.” I wanted to say that she had no idea because she was seemingly emotionless but I bit my tongue.

  “Two people?”

  “I was this bad boy who kicks ass on the ice and now I’m supposed to be this regular guy with a fiancée? What’s next, two kids and a dog? I’m trying to get into that, but it fucks with my head. I can’t just switch back and forth. Cut me some fucking slack.” I blew out a frustrated puff of air.

  “You’re complicating things, Blake.”

  “How’s that?”

  “No one wants to lose the bad boy.”

  “Then what? You guys told me I have to behave, rein it in or lose everything. Now I’m in deep shit for doing that.”

  “The bad boy needs to stay. All they want you to change is that you aren’t seen as whoring around.”

  “Isn’t that what bad boys do? How am I supposed to still play the part of bad boy? Nobody is going to believe a woman would stick around for that kind of guy.”

  She took a breath. “What we’re selling is the idea that you’ve found one girl, one who won’t put up with that, you’ve focused on her.”

  I grinned at her. I thought I was finally getting what she was saying. “So, it would be okay if I went out front and beat the shit out of one of the reporters?”

  “Absolutely. If you made it seem that you were pissed about them cutting in on your private time.”

  I gave her a meaningful look. I didn’t like the way things were going any more than she did. I hadn’t been able to get my head in the game and that sucked. I needed some clarification. It was time to put some cards on the table. “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “If I’m supposed to still be a bad, if controlled boy, why are you testing me?”

  “Testing you how?”

  “To see if I’d jump through your hoops. You’ve loved sending the message that I’d better behave—your words.”

  She looked alarmed. “Sure. It’s been about your public image.”

  “Then why these games in private?” I was trying to bait her into admitting her own flaws.

  She looked surprised. “Blake, everything I’ve done is to get your contract renewed and help you get the endorsements. I’m trying to earn my paycheck,” she said flatly as if I meant nothing to her other than dollar signs.

  “Bullshit. You’re flaunting your body, or cuddling up to me and taking things up to the point where I’d…y
ou’ve been trying to make me lose control so you could tell the bosses I couldn’t play your game.”

  She swallowed. “Not at all. They don’t care how you act in private.”

  I could see I’d rattled her, which gave me back some power over the situation and I took advantage. “Then explain all this shit where you pretend you’re attracted to me, that you want me. Or are you going to pretend my fake fiancée likes bad boys too?”

  “What? That had nothing to do with… Blake, do you really think that was some kind of damn test?”

  I smiled. “Finally, she gets it. That’s exactly what I think―you decided to make me pay for roping you into playing this role. You decided to punish me by trying to make me crazy with the way you’ve been acting. Then you get what you want, but if I do…watch out. There goes the deal.” She lost her poker face after that. I had won this one, but somehow still felt like shit.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chloe

  I looked up at Blake in absolute disbelief and dismay. How could the man not know how I felt about him? Was he really so blind that when I threw myself at him he thought I was testing him? “You are an absolute idiot, Blake Collins!” I spat out in utter frustration at his lack of mental perception.

  “Then explain.” His eyes blazed.

  “You think that the other night was all about your career?”

  “What else?” He shrugged.

  I pushed him backward, up against the wall, watching his eyes dilate as I pulled his face down and kissed him hard. His cologne smelled amazing. His lips were soft and edible. “I want you, you stupid bastard. I was coming on to you and you…you stopped too soon.”

  He hesitated for the blink of an eye—a blink that seemed an eternity while I waited for him to say something or at least move. I held my breath, and then he grabbed me. “You are so fucking hot,” he said, and then he kissed me back, with more passion and desperation than before. It was a rough, passionate kiss that sent a shockwave rippling through me and I found it exhilarating.

  I’d wanted an animal and it seemed I’d unleashed one because he was tearing at my dress. Buttons went flying and his hands were scalding hot on my breasts. He bent his face down and sucked a nipple into his mouth and a moan of pleasure escaped my lips. He hiked my dress up my hips and he was tugging at my panties, pulling them down to my knees. I let them fall to my ankles and then I stepped out of them.

  He undid his pants and brought out his hard cock. I gasped at the glorious sight of it. It was rigid and I felt the heat of it radiate on my bare thigh. He kept himself pressed against me, teasing me into oblivion. He pulled a condom from his pocket and opened it with his teeth, his eyes wild and sparkling. Then he put the condom on. My eyes were glued to that massive, throbbing shaft of his and I wanted him more than ever.

  Suddenly, he scooped my legs up. I squealed playfully. My heels came off as he tucked my legs over his powerful arms, pushing my back against the wall. My breathing kept pace with my heart, rapid and desperate. He kissed me again and I felt his sheathed cock at my pussy lips, giving me a surge and tingle of pleasure. He fumbled for a second, working it inside me with his right hand, then he grunted and drove it into me with full amazing force. I cried out with the thrill and sensation of his rock hard cock finally inside of me.“Oh fuck!”I shouted.

  He slammed into me, standing me up against that goddamn wall, taking me with his hard length. I couldn’t believe how full it made me feel. His hands were against the wall as he thrust in and out of me.

  “God, what an awesome, gorgeously tight pussy,” he moaned in my ear as he buried himself in me and showered my neck with whispered kisses.

  I hooked my heels behind him and dug them into his hips. I had my fingers interlocked behind his neck as my bad boy took me, half clothed in his living room and I loved it. He grabbed my hair and pulled it, making me cry out in ecstasy again. I loved the blend of pleasure and pain.

  Having Blake fuck me was better than I’d imagined. It was incredible; it was everything I had been missing. His hot cock moving in me was magical and suddenly I was losing control, I was dangling on the precipice of orgasm. And then, just at that moment, he kissed me again, put his mouth over mine and forced his tongue in my mouth to possess it at the same time that his cock owned my pussy.

  My body convulsed with a massive fit of pleasure.

  “Holy shit,” he moaned and I knew the contractions of my muscles were caressing his cock and he would soon go over the edge too. His breath grew ragged, his face was a sheen of sweat, and I swooned as his cock pulsed inside me as he came.

  When he finished, we clung to each other for a time, taking heaving breaths as we came down from climax. I was afraid to move, to shatter the moment. And then, finally, he slipped out of me, and I put my feet on the floor.

  He stared at me in a combination of sated pleasure and disbelief. I knew the look. It was exactly how I felt.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blake

  I couldn’t believe what had happened; it seemed as if the world was spinning fast and in slow motion at the same time. Everything had gotten swept up in a mad swirl of passion and insane emotions that we finally caved in and let consume us. She’d finally asked me to fuck her. It was what I’d wanted. Well, not exactly. She hadn’t begged for me to take her, she’d demanded it. Although she made it clear she wanted me to fuck her it sure as hell hadn’t been submissive.

  Still, it was intense and carnal and I wanted more. I wanted her.

  She stripped off her dress, letting it fall to the floor, showing me that luscious body. I couldn’t remember seeing a sexier woman. She wasn’t shy or coy. She looked right at me with those piercing eyes of hers that drove me crazy, letting me know that she wanted more too. But I couldn’t shake the idea that it was also a challenge, that she wanted me to know that I couldn’t resist her and she had the upper hand.

  I had no interest in resisting her. After fucking her against the wall, there was no point to it. I was still suspicious of her motives and wanted to stay on my A game. It was hard to believe she only wanted a hard fuck, but if she thought that my desire was a weakness, if she thought the sight of her body made me so crazy that she was in control, I was going to have to show her just how wrong she was. I’d wanted her, and I still wanted her, but not on her terms. I was going to take her and screw her senseless. She’d made it clear I could have her and I intended to fuck her until she knew who was in charge, who held the upper hand in the desire game.

  I took a breath to clear my head. This was my territory now, home ice. I watched her walk to the wet bar and pour herself a drink, then turned and faced me again, sipping it while still unclothed, naked and raw. I took her in, let my gaze roam over those firm breasts and delicious curves. She was intoxicating and luring me in again. She was daring me, waiting to see if I’d make my move.

  I undid my shirt, tossing it on the couch. Her eyes never wavered. Her teasing had done its work and I was already hard again—it jutted out defiantly and her eyes went to it and stayed on it as I kicked off my shoes, then pulled off my socks and pants. I stood before her, naked and aroused, dick pointing to the sky. She sipped her drink as I walked toward her. “I’ll have some of that,” I said.

  She nodded and winked at me. She turned away, and picked up a glass to pour me a drink.

  “Not that,” I told her. My voice was husky with desire. The way the sight of her lithe, naked body aroused me was surprising and wonderful. Her perky tits made my mouth water, her perfect skin made me want to run my hands all over her.

  A quizzical look came over her face. “Vodka then?”

  I put my hand on her bare ass and squeezed, and felt her stiffen. “No. I want some more of this.” I nuzzled her neck and saw her swallow. That excited me even more, seeing her uncertainty. Just that fast I was back in control of the situation. If she was wondering what sort of passion she’d unleashed, she was about to find out.

  I stepped behind her and reached around to gra
b her soft, firm breasts. I pulled her back against my chest and my cock brushed her ass and along her thigh. A sigh escaped her lips and she set her glass on the table; her hands came up to my face and stroked my cheek.

  Despite her earlier demand for me to fuck her, despite the strip tease she’d done, I half expected her to protest. Taking her when she’d crossed the line and then tried to control me would be almost as good as having her beg me to fuck her again.

  But there was no protests. To my surprise, she rubbed her round ass against me and practically purred. Even when I moved my hands down her body, over her belly, over the bare nether lips, crooking one finger to part them and run between them, she only moaned softly and writhed erotically against me. My dick was pulsing with longing to be back inside her tight wet and warm core. The moist heat of her pussy welcomed my finger, and I wiggled it around inside, tickling her clit.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Chloe,” I told her. “Again.”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice soft and I heard a hint of pleading there.

  “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move. I’m going to get so deep inside you that you’ll never get me out.” I grabbed another condom packet and tore it open, then put the condom in her hand. “Put that on me,” I smiled, charmed to order her around. She tensed again. “I want you to kneel down and put that on my cock.”

  She closed her hand over it, then turned and faced me, hesitating a beat before she dropped to her knees and I felt the delicious touch of her fingers on me and she unrolled it over my swollen shaft. She stared up at me, questioningly and I took her arms and pulled her to her feet and scooped her into my arms. She was light and delicate; her hand ran over my chest, a caress as I carried her into my bedroom and put her on the bed. There was desire in her eyes as she looked up at me and I crawled up on the bed, hooking one of her legs over my shoulder.

  “I’m going to take you slowly,” I told her. I wanted to start off slow and gentle this time. I craved her body, wanted this to last an eternity. Her lips parted and her tongue flicked over them. “Open up for me,” I said. “Spread that pussy open with your fingers.”

 

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