Fake Fiancé

by Jessa James

  “I suppose we have time to discuss the issue of her dating.”

  “Let her get into grade school first,” Chloe said, then we both chuckled.

  I was overwhelmed by a flood of thoughts, dreams, concerns for this new life about to come into the world. I was dazed, off balance, and I’d never been happier, more content in my life.

  Chloe looked up at me. “Kiss me, my bad boy.”

  “Gladly,” I said and pulled her close and planned to never let her go.

  Read on to experience Jessa Jame’s Bad Boy Billionaire series with Lip Service!

  Lip Service

  Bad Boy Billionaires, Book 1

  By

  Jessa James

  Lip Service: Copyright © 2017 by Jessa James

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electrical, digital or mechanical including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning or by any type of data storage and retrieval system without express, written permission from the author.

  Published by Jessa James

  James, Jessa

  Lip Service

  Carter

  Carter Buchanan, Billionaire, President of Buchanan Industries — Biotech Division

  Emma walked out of the conference room, her luscious ass swinging side to side in that fucking pencil skirt and I couldn’t tear my gaze from her curves. Not even when my cock grew hard as granite beneath the table. I had it bad for Emma. Bad. I sported the worst case of blue balls imaginable and it was all because of her.

  She'd waltzed into my office a year ago with an armful of files, introduced herself as my brother, Ford's, new secretary, and I'd almost come in my pants then and there. My brother had all the fucking luck. Since that first moment, when I saw her perfect tits framed in that tight, black sweater, her wide hips and perfect ass hugged by long linen pants, I could think of nothing but bending her over my desk and making her mine.

  But the company had a strict hands-off policy. Hell, so did I. But HR would have a lawsuit on their hands if they knew all of the ways I wanted to fuck her, to claim those curves, even if she worked for Ford in a completely different department.

  It wasn't just her body that drove me insane—and made my dick constantly hard—it was her sharp mind, too. Overqualified for her job, she made Ford's work life easy. She'd swooped in and organized our joint production schedules the first week, making the previous assistant seem a bumbling fool and giving my secretary, Tori, some much needed relief. Emma knew what Ford and I needed even before we did. Hell, the other execs, too. I considered putting her up for a promotion, but then I'd miss hearing her softly pitched, "Good morning, Carter," as she waltzed into the staff meeting every Tuesday and Thursday morning at precisely 8:00 am.

  Yes, all those fucking thoughts—and thoughts about fucking—made me an asshole, but I hadn't touched her. I'd imagined it so many different ways, but all of them had one thing in common. I'd fuck her raw, no condom, and I'd fill her with my cum. I'd shoot it so far inside her, and so often, that she'd never be able to wash the scent of me from her body. She'd be marked as mine. Yes, every fuck fest in my head ended with me claiming her in the most elemental of ways, filling her with my baby as I made her writhe and beg for release.

  Not very gentlemanly of me. But every time I saw her, my Ivy League education and analytical mind devolved about a million years. I changed into something primal. A caveman. I wanted to tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her into my office and fuck her. Make sure she knew exactly who she belonged to.

  I’d discreetly asked my brother about her on several occasions. Ford had told me to fuck off and find my own secretary. And that was why I'd left her alone for the last twelve months. I wasn't just an asshole, I was an old asshole. Ten years her senior. I was ready to settle down, to get on with that house with the picket fence, the two kids and a fucking Labrador Retriever. She made me think crazy thoughts, want things I never imagined I’d want. But I did. I wanted that fucking house. I wanted her round and pregnant with my baby. I even wanted the fucking dog. But only with her.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t ready. Emma was just twenty-four and needed to live a little before a dominating caveman like me took over her life. Once she was mine, I’d want total control. I’d fuck her when I wanted to, pamper her the way I wanted to, make sure she came so many times on my hard cock that she never looked at another man again. I’d ruin her, and she wasn’t ready for that. Not for what I wanted to give her. I'd waited a year already and she graduated in a few weeks with a Master’s in Finance. Yeah, she could analyze my fucking numbers anytime.

  Sure, I’d waited like a fucking gentleman, tried to give her the space she needed to sow her wild oats. I figured I could wait a few more weeks.

  At least, that was the plan. But when I heard her voice drifting down the hallway from the copy room, everything changed.

  "I hate being a virgin," she said. I doubted she knew her voice carried, but I was glad it was me that heard her confession. If it had been anyone else who knew her secret, I'd have to beat the shit out of them. No one messed with Emma. She might be Ford's secretary, but she was mine.

  I was walking past, heading back to the elevators after our Thursday meeting on the fourteenth floor when I recognized her voice. It was her words though, that had me leaning against the wall and out of sight. Eavesdropping. She'd turned me into a fucking eavesdropper. No, the fact that she'd said she was a virgin had.

  "There's nothing wrong with being a virgin." I recognized the voice of my secretary, Tori. She was in her late twenties, single, and gorgeous. I told her that she should go out with Ford, but she just raised a brow and told me she’d sworn off men. She’d worked for me just over a year but I didn’t know more than that. And with the don’t-fuck-with-me look in her eyes, I didn’t ask for details. I didn’t have time to dig into her personal life. As usual, she was efficient and professional, and I thought her words to Emma were sound.

  "I'm twenty-four, Tori. I must be the oldest virgin on earth."

  I thought of her, untouched, pure. God, just knowing that pussy hadn't been fucked had me shifting my cock. I had to look down the hall to ensure no one could see me with my dick hard.

  "So a few more days, weeks, hell, months, isn't going to make a difference. Trust me on that one." The woman deserved a promotion for that answer.

  "That guy Jim ran out of my apartment when I told him I'd never had sex before. He called me a unicorn. What the hell does that even mean?"

  I heard the copier door open, then close. The machine kicked on.

  "He was an asshole," Tori replied.

  Thank fuck he was an asshole. I didn't even know who the hell Jim was, but he didn’t deserve my sweet Emma, or her virgin pussy.

  "I'm telling you, don't do it. Some guy at a bar is not who you want to give your V card to," Tori said.

  What guy at what bar? I stood up straight and leaned closer.

  "Well, that V card is in my way. No guy wants to deal with a virgin, Tori. I’m like a kid playing in the grown-up pool. It's just one night and then it's over. I can put the stupid virginity thing behind me and move on."

  No one wanted to deal with her? Hell, she was perfect as she was. Girl next door perfect and I'd been afraid I'd corrupt her. I wasn't a good guy. Hell, I'd worked my way through enough women to know what they thought of me. I was—used to be—the fuck-em and leave-em type, but I'd never offered any of them more than one night and they all knew that going in. I'd only wanted a release, a short respite where I forgot everything in their willing bodies. I hadn't promised more. Ever. Had never wanted more. Until Emma. And I wanted to give her everything.

  "Then pick someone to make it worth your while. We both know who you really want.”

  I heard Emma laugh, but the sound wasn’t sweet, it was sad. "Yeah, that's so not going to happen. He doesn't even know I'm alive."

  Tori laughed. “Maybe you should parade around naked. He’ll
notice, trust me. And I’ve heard he’s fucking fantastic in bed.”

  “God, don’t tell me things like that,” Emma pleaded. “I already can’t think when I’m around him.”

  “Seriously, woman. Why don’t you dress up a little? Show some cleavage. You know, seduce him?”

  “Right. Me? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m about as sexy as a kindergarten teacher.” Emma sighed and I imagined her crossing her arms, knew the exact face she was probably making. “Hence the problem, Tori. Big, stupid virgin, remember? He wouldn’t waste his time with me. He doesn't seem like the virgin type. Which is one of the reasons I want to get laid tonight.”

  Tonight? And who was my Emma pining for? Who the fuck was she talking about? Was Emma interested in someone? I'd never heard of her going on a date, and Ford kept pretty close tabs on everyone working for him. The office was small enough for me to find out what she was doing most of the time. Only Brad from Accounting had come sniffing around her last Thanksgiving and I'd shut him down easily enough. Who the hell was she longing for and why didn't I know about him? I was a jealous prick for wondering, but hell, I was selfish. I wanted her all to myself.

  “I still think a one night stand with some guy you hook up with in a bar is a bad idea.”

  Bless Tori and her sage advice. Trouble was, my Emma wasn’t listening.

  "Look, Tori, it's fine. A stranger is better. If I’m terrible in bed, I’ll never have to see him again. And I want to know what it's like to have a man inside me. I want him sweaty and bossy and so fucking hard he can’t wait to fuck me. I want a real man. I want skin and kissing and a real cock, not battery-operated Bob."

  My balls drew up at her words. She wanted skin? Kissing? A bossy man with a big cock?

  I had a cock she could ride all damn night.

  Tori laughed. "Fine, fine. You're a big girl. We'll meet tonight at Frankie’s. Seven o’clock. If you're going to have a one-night-stand, I'll at least make sure you have condoms and the guy's not a serial killer."

  "Thanks, Tori!" Emma was really excited. I knew that tone and it was the same one she’d used when flowers arrived at her desk on Valentine's Day. Two dozen long stem red roses from a secret admirer. Me.

  Ford had called me himself and warned me to back off. Well, I had. Promising to wait until she graduated to make my move. But her plans for tonight changed everything.

  The only cock Emma was going to have inside her tonight, or any fucking night, was mine.

  When two men from finance headed my way, I turned and walked back the way I had come, ducking into the men's room. I didn't want Emma to know I'd been listening and I needed a few minutes to will my cock back into submission.

  Fifteen minutes later, I sat behind my desk and watched the sexiest fucking woman on the planet enter my office with the typed up reports from our morning meeting. Yeah, I could get the fucking things on email, but I liked them printed out and delivered. I was old fucking fashioned in that way, and wasn’t about to change, especially if it brought her through my office door.

  Emma set the report on the corner of my desk and didn’t even look at me, which was probably a good thing, considering the way I devoured her curves with my eyes.

  “It’s five, Mr. Buchanan. Unless there’s something else you need from our office, I’m going to call it a day.”

  I swallowed hard. Need? Yeah, there was something else I needed, but I wasn’t going to take it here, in my office, with her skirt flipped up over her luscious ass and her head down on my desk.

  At least, not yet. That would come later. When she knew who she belonged to. When her body knew it was mine.

  “That's fine, Emma. Are you hitting the town with the rest of the staff for their usual Thursday night at Frankie’s Bar?” The place was upscale, expensive, and offered exotic drinks like chocolate martinis. And it was only two blocks from the office. So, yeah, the bar had been a haunt of the Buchanan staff for years.

  Her cheeks turned pink and she bit her lip, but she also raised her head in surprise and met my gaze. I felt that bright, innocent stare down to my toes.

  I imagined those big, round eyes sizing some stranger up at a bar. Accepting his offer to buy her a drink. Agreeing to go home with him. Taking off that tight fucking skirt and wrapping her legs around his waist.

  Fuck.

  I had to turn away, afraid she’d see the rage building in my head, buzzing like a hornets’ nest. No one was fucking touching her. No one but me.

  After counting to ten, I looked back up.

  She grinned, picking at the corner of the notepad and papers she held in front of her chest. “Yes. Everyone’s meeting there after work. How did you know about Frankie’s? I’ve never seen you there before.”

  Standing slowly, I walked around the edge of my desk and stopped inches from her. More than anything, I wanted to pull her into my arms and forbid her from entering that meat market. I knew all too well just how many young, arrogant pricks would be there waiting to get their hands on a soft, curvy virgin like my Emma. They’d be dressed in their suits, hair slicked back, throwing hundred dollar bills on the bar to try to impress the ladies, trying to impress Emma.

  Eyes growing wider, she watched me approach, but held her ground. That was my girl. I loved that spunk, that fucking fire. She’d never backed down, not once in all the months she’d worked for the Buchanans.

  Unable to resist touching her, I lifted my hand to her shoulder in what I hoped wouldn’t come off as an asshole move. She glanced down at my hand, confused, I was sure, because I'd never touched her before, but she didn’t shrug me off.

  I waited patiently for her to raise her gaze to mine. “I’ve never been invited.”

  “What?” Shock clouded her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. “How? I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t…that’s not…I—”

  She was so damn beautiful when she stuttered, and her obvious concern for my emotional well-being was adorable.

  Leaning forward, I placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before stepping away. “Don’t worry about me, Emma.”

  She gasped at the surprise contact, then bit her lip and stifled the sound. Her cheek was warm and silky soft beneath my lips. I wanted more, to find out if she was so damn soft everywhere else. And her scent…

  “No,” she replied. “I think you should come. Get to know everyone better. Maybe they wouldn’t be so sc—”

  Emma stopped herself just in time and I threw back my head with laughter. “Scared?”

  Her blush was a deep, dark pink and I longed to trace the color all the way down her neck and under that blouse, discover if her breasts were as flushed as her face.

  “I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not usually such a mess. I don’t normally—”

  “Tell me the truth?” I cut her off.

  She raised a brow, but met my gaze squarely. “I tell you the truth, but I don't tell tales.”

  “That’s because you’re smart.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “Apparently, not around you.” Her gaze drifted lower, to my mouth, my lips, just for a moment, but I saw it, and I knew I would have her. Soon.

  I squeezed her shoulder and reluctantly, let her go. “Go on, Emma. It’s been a helluva week. You better go before they think I trapped you here for the weekend.”

  Trapped, under me. On top of me. Bent over my desk.

  It was like my cock had taken over my head.

  “See you next week.” Emma walked out of my office without looking back, her soft blond hair swinging over her shoulders, her curvy ass sashaying as she left me standing there alone, like a dick.

  I nearly ran after her. Instead, I fisted my hands in my pockets and told my cock to fucking stand down. Nothing was happening until later.

  Nothing but me convincing Emma that I was the right man for her, the only man for her.

  There was no fucking way Emma was giving her virginity to some random fucker at a bar. She wanted cock? I had one she could take full advanta
ge of. But it wasn't just one night I wanted. I wanted all her nights. I’d stayed away because she was pure, because I didn’t want to risk ruining her with my base needs. And because I knew she had plans, was just finishing her degree. I was trying to be a god-damned gentleman and wait until she was ready.

  That was over. If she was ready to give her body away, she damn well was going to give it to me and no one else. I wanted Emma. Her body was mine. Her smile was mine. That luscious mouth was mine to fuck. Her virginity, mine to take. I wouldn’t share her. I couldn’t stand by and watch her give herself to some random stranger all too eager to fuck her and forget her.

  She deserved better than that and I was going to make sure she got it.

  Forever. Yes, Emma was going to be mine tonight. After that, she wouldn't have any doubts about who she belonged to.

  But first, I had to convince her that I wasn’t playing around. I’d take her out to dinner and hold doors, that’s what I’d do. I’d seduce her, make her scream with every orgasm, fill her wet pussy with my big, hard cock. I’d send her roses every fucking day and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. Eventually, I’d put my ring on her finger and my baby in her womb. I’d claim her every way a man could claim his woman.

  I was done trying to be noble, trying to protect her from my darkness. If she was ready for more, I was going to give it to her. Me. No one else.

  She was mine, she just didn’t know it yet.

  Emma

  Emma Sanders

  I adjusted the strap of my new pink bra and looked at myself in the mirror. The pink lace and satin did an amazing job hoisting up my large breasts. The line of cleavage the demi bra created was impressive. I just had to hope that the guy who I took home tonight liked boobs. Big, soft round boobs that were so sensitive to the touch that I shuddered every time I accidentally bumped into my boss's brother. Carter.

  I took a deep breath, tried to calm my racing heart. Every time I thought about what I was going to do tonight, I freaked. So, yeah, maybe picking up a random guy at a bar, bringing him home and letting him pop my cherry wasn’t the smartest idea I’d ever had. But I was desperate. No one wanted to date an uptight, twenty-four year old virgin. The men I’d told thought I was super-religious and looking for an engagement ring, or cold as ice, rigid and untouchable.