He throws a wave toward Jim, who is busy talking to another couple, and then Kaede makes his car purr a lot more than he did getting here. One hand is gripping the steering wheel and the other is holding onto the gear shifter, even though it’s an automatic. His eyes jump from the road to the rearview mirror like a safe driver, but every so often, they tick down to my lap. I can feel his eyes on my thighs and the edge of my dress that I pulled down demurely as I got in the car.
Damn my mother for teaching me ladylike manners!
When he pulls up in front of my building, I’m worried for a half-second that he’s going to drop me at the curb, and I’m already considering whether I’m flying with my fingers or the showerhead tonight. But then he opens his door and nearly vaults the hood of his car to open my door.
He walks me inside the building and upstairs, my hand tightly in his. Next to me, it feels as though his muscles are literally thrumming like he’s holding a live wire.
Maybe he is.
Maybe it’s me. And wouldn’t that be a shocker . . . for the Ice Queen to actually be liquid fire beneath the frost? But I think he might be the only one who can melt me.
We get inside, where Kaede stops in my entryway, his nerves still warring with him. “Come in.”
He steps into my living room, looking stiffer than he has all night. And not in the good way. Damn it.
“Would you like a drink or something?” Ever the hostess, maybe Mom’s lessons weren’t all bad if they’ll keep Kaede here a little longer.
He shakes his head. “No, I shouldn’t or I won’t be able to drive.”
Is that a roundabout question? Like is he asking if he can stay over? If so, the answer’s fuck, yes. But Kaede doesn’t do indirect. If he wanted to stay, he’d say so.
So he’s leaving. Disappointment works its way through me, a bitter end to a lovely evening.
“I got you something.” Kaede swallows thickly and reaches into his jacket pocket.
And suddenly, I realize what he’s been nervous about. Because Kaede McWarren is on one knee, in my living room floor, holding up a ring box and looking at me with dark puppy dog eyes!
I basically melt into a big puddle right there.
In my brain, I know it’s fake, I know this is just for show. But when Kaede opens the box, my heart’s louder than my head, racing with happiness, with hope. The ring’s perfect, classically beautiful but not gaudy, the diamond flanked on each side by emeralds, my birthstone.
No, I’m not crying . . . he’s crying.
Actually, I think we both are. So sue me for having a romantic streak.
“Courtney, I wish I could do this right. You certainly deserve better than this,” he says, swallowing back another lump in his throat. “You’re everything a man could ever desire, everything a man could want. Someday, I pray that you’ll have this moment for real and that guy will be the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side as his wife. But for now, thank you for your kind heart and willingness to help a friend out of a mess of his own making. Courtney, will you take this ring and pretend to be my fiancée?”
Yeah, he’s making damn sure to remind us both that we’re friends, nothing more, and that this is fake. Responsible to a fault. But the truth isn’t in his words. It’s in his eyes.
Abi’s warning bells go off again, but they sound more like a jackpot hitting.
Ding-ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!
“Yes, Kaede. Yes.”
Maybe I’m fooling myself, or maybe I’m trying to tell him the truth. That I don’t want this to be fake, and that after all the years of watching him, of wanting him from afar . . . this feels right.
He feels that too. He has to feel it. God, let him feel it.
The ring slides onto my finger, fitting perfectly thanks to Kaede’s string trick. It looks good on my hand and feels even better. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper, my voice weak with wishes.
He stands up, his gaze going from my hand, which he’s still holding, to my eyes. I don’t blink, don’t want to miss a moment of this because I feel like in this moment, I can see down to Kaede’s soul. He’s raw and open, his defenses crumbling, and I’m picking my way over the jagged rocks to get inside him.
He wants me, but he thinks he should go. Loyalty is a beautiful, honorable thing, but Ross doesn’t need his loyalty in this.
Because I know what I need, what I want. And so I take his hand and pull him down the hall.
There’s no turning back now.
Chapter 17
Kaede
When I picked up Courtney’s ring from the jeweler, I spent ten minutes looking it over in my car, idle fantasies playing through my mind. Pie in the sky scenarios, images of Courtney and me actually making this real.
In them, everyone was happy. We had it all, right down to the dog and three kids. It was my inability to decide whether it was two boys and a girl or two girls and a boy that let the fantasies dissolve and reality come crashing back in.
But kneeling down, slipping this ring on Court’s finger, the magic’s back. It looks gorgeous on her, the center stone not gaudy but large enough to befit an Andrews, and the filigree band adds a touch of practical femininity that’s so Courtney. The warm gold matches the highlights in her hair and the diamond sparkles like the twinkle in her eyes. The way she looks at the ring and then at me, breathlessly telling me that it’s beautiful, tells me she loves it.
And I know something else too . . . I am so totally fucked. From the heated look in her eyes when she takes my hand and steps backward, I know it. She doesn’t even need to say a word. I’m too weak to fight this thing between us, the flames that are already licking along my skin where she touches me, the desire she’s not even trying to hide from me.
I step closer to her, pinning her left hand to my chest. The ring digs into my skin, and I welcome the sharp nip of pain because it lets me know this is real, not another fantasy. Both panting into the small space between our open mouths, we cave in to a kiss.
There’s no build-up. We ignite instantly, years of pent-up lust providing the kindling and the last weeks of getting closer and learning about one another giving all the fuel we need to burn hot and deep. I feel her down to my soul.
“Fuck, Court. Honey, I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t stop,” I groan into her mouth, tasting the tang of wine on her lips. My hands burrow into the silky strands of her hair before they trace down her neck and settle on her hips, which are writhing. “Tell me to stop . . . please.”
There’s a reason this is a bad idea. I know there’s something, it’s teasing at the back of my mind, but I’m too lost in my every dream coming true to remember what it is. I don’t want to fight anymore. The reasons ‘why not’ are less than faint whispers drifting away like smoke, leaving just Courtney and me . . . and something intense and aching in my chest.
But Courtney’s clear-headed, her mission objective crystal-clear, and I’m powerless against her. I can’t blame the wine since neither of us is even tipsy. Or the moment with the ring, which was so much more than I ever imagined. Fuck, I want the chance to slip into her with nothing on but that ring. The thought makes me even harder.
Courtney doesn’t stop me but rather steps back, leading me through the living room to her bedroom. I get a brief impression of a large white bed with too many pillows, but then my attention is solidly on Court.
She undoes a zipper, the sound of each tooth slowly releasing making me want to rip it off her. I want to see her, the real her . . . now. Suddenly, her dress is released, pooling at her feet, leaving her in her heels and a breathtakingly sexy set of light blue lingerie that leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Leave the heels on,” I tell her, finding my voice after a moment. “Do you know how many times I dreamed of this at the office when you walked around in those?”
I shrug off my jacket and nearly rip my tie off my neck, my control fading away as I watch her eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“I wo
uld jerk off thinking of them digging into my back,” I growl, barely getting my shirt off without sending buttons flying even though Court’s helping me. “Did you wear this for me?” I ask, tracing the soft lace of one bra strap.
Courtney nods, biting her lip. “Yes, but I always wear pretty lingerie.”
I groan, mentally flipping through every outfit I’ve ever seen her in. “Fuck, honey. If only I’d known, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself then . . .” My voice dissolves into a growl at the very idea, and I cup her breasts, kneading them through the sheer fabric before just taking the thing off her so I can get at her skin. Satin soft, lush breasts topped with pale brown nipples . . . God, I’ve imagined the color a million times, the taste even more, I think as I tease along them with a gentle fingertip.
“I have to be this hard as nails bitch at the office. Any chink in my armor will be exploited, so I can’t let any weakness show. Underneath, I can be me, though, and I like pretty things. To feel like . . . a woman.”
She almost sounds embarrassed to admit that, which makes it that much more important that she’s confessing it and trusting me not to take advantage of her secret. She’s as nervous about this as I am, but for different reasons. And right now, I inwardly vow to never, ever betray her trust.
“You’ve always been a woman to me, hard or soft.” I flick the hardened nub of her nipple with my thumb. “Fiery or sweet.” I lick a line down the tendon on her neck. “Being the boss or melting for me.” I trace my hand down to cup her pussy, finding that her wetness has soaked through the flimsy material.
Courtney’s breath hitches, and she runs her hands over my chest, pushing my undershirt up and off, her eyes glued to my tattoos. I don’t have many, I’ll admit. Some guys could get whole arm sleeves done on Monday night and be ready to practice Tuesday. I wasn’t one of them.
Her fingernails lightly trace my largest, a dragon that goes from my shoulder down to my chest, then follows the dragon’s tongue down, over the ridges of my stomach to my belt. Her hands are determined as she undoes the buckle, pausing to let me pull off my shoes and socks before undoing my pants and letting them join her dress on the floor. My boxer briefs fall just as quickly.
I go to pull Courtney close, but after a too-short kiss with my cock rubbing against the fabric-covered heat of her pussy, she pushes me back onto her bed. She looks down at me, a naughty twinkle in her eye as she steps between my knees. “You think you’re the only one with fantasies?”
“Tell me,” I order, needing to make each and every one of them come true.
She drops to her knees, her nails scraping along my thighs as she pushes them apart to give herself more space. She looks at my cock, which jumps, trying to get closer to her. “Maybe I can show you one instead?”
I swear this is another one of my fantasies.
Courtney looks me dead in the eye, no shyness, no shame, only hunger as she takes me in hand and licks from my balls to the tip and back down, bathing my cock with her tongue until I’m glistening all over. My eyes shutter closed at how good it feels, and I groan as I grip the sheets behind me to stop from fisting her hair.
I should tell her to stop, because I’m not going to last long, but tomorrow, she’s going to realize what a mistake this is. And if this is my one night with Courtney, I can’t go to my grave without knowing what her mouth feels like on my cock. My dream, her fantasy . . . but somehow, reality.
I’m going to hell for this, but fuck, I need it.
Courtney seems to read my mind and smiles up from over the tip of my cock, letting a long droplet of her drool ooze over me before licking around the thick, blunt tip. I gasp, and she lowers herself down, her pink lips stretching as she works me in and out of her hungry, eager mouth.
Oh, my God . . . this is worth dying for.
She works me up and down, her lips descending in slow, torturous sucks that make me want to take control and fuck her mouth hard and fast. But when I fight the urge, I’m rewarded as she pulls back to the tip quickly. It’s heaven, it’s hell, and she gets me closer and closer to the point of no return, licking up every dribbling drop of precum as though she can’t get enough of me.
“Stop,” I gasp when she has me teetering dangerously on the edge. I bury my hands into her hair and pull my hips back, directing her chin up. I kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue. The mix is sexy as fuck and more than I could have imagined. “Courtney . . . I need you too. Get up here.”
She stands from the floor, smiling as she mounts the bed to kneel next to me as I lie back on the pillows. Maybe they’re good for something after all, I think as I prop up on a couple to see her better.
“You need me?”
“I’ve spent years dreaming of burying my tongue in your pussy, drinking down your orgasms, and damn near suffocating between your thighs,” I growl, tugging on the strap of her panties. “Now either take those off and come sit on my face or leave them on and I’ll lick you through them. Your choice.”
Courtney grins and reaches down to tug them off, leaving me with a view of the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Her mound is smooth as silk, her lips coral pink and wet, and she’s so turned on her clit is almost ruby red.
She straddles my face, her hands on the headboard behind me for support, and lowers herself slowly. The scent of her arousal intoxicates me, making me even hungrier for her. My tongue peeks out, trying to get a taste, but she’s too far away by inches still.
I look up from her pussy to her face. She’s biting her lip uncertainly, as though she’s trying to hold herself up by sheer willpower.
“Come here,” I command, reaching up to cup her ass and pull her the rest of the way down to my tongue. “Sit on me. Ride my tongue. Fuck my face, honey.”
“I don’t want to suffocate you,” she pants.
“I’ll let you know if I need to tap out, but if I die like this, I’ll die a happy fucking man,” I murmur, already lost in her again. So pretty, so wet, so close. So mine . . . at least for tonight.
From the very first stroke I’m overwhelmed, her sweet juices coating my mouth and chin. Her gasps and cries are music to my ears as I suckle her, already knowing this will be my deadliest addiction.
I need her. I crave her, and as her hips rub back and forth, her body caught up in the throes of pleasure, I know I’ll do anything to have this again, to have it time after time.
“Kaede . . . Kaede, Kaede—” she cries out, her thighs trembling around my ears. She’s on the edge, wanting permission to fully embrace the pleasure and the release, begging to know that she’ll be safe if she does.
I pull back, looking up at the quivering sight above me. “I have you, Court. Come for me.” I mean it to be an order, but there’s a plea buried in the command.
Come for me. Come on me. Fall apart, honey. I’ll catch you. Drown me in your fucking cum. I need it. Please.
I lick her clit once more, and she shatters. Her hips buck wildly against me as she collapses to the headboard for support. She loses all pace and rhythm, and I take over, holding her hips steady against my face and licking her again and again. The spasms keep coming, tearing her apart as she moans and cries out in pleasure, and I savor every drop of her cum, every moment where she lets all pretense fall away and is simply . . . mine.
Courtney comes down, her final moan of release shuddering as she struggles to breathe, and I lap at her lazily, my fingers tenderly tracing along the skin of her thighs.
She rolls off me, lying down on the bed. I flip over to face her, kissing her with her cream all over my lips and chin, but she doesn’t seem to mind either and kisses me back passionately.
“Kaede?”
“Hmm?” I ask, not breaking my path down her neck. She points to her nightstand, and I open it to find an unopened box of condoms. That’s Courtney, always prepared. I grab one, opening it and rolling it down my straining cock.
She spreads her long legs, bending her knees to dig those sexy heels into the mattress. I crawl between her
legs, positioning myself at her entrance before bending down to kiss her deeply.
I lock eyes with her, giving her one last silent opportunity to stop this madness even as I pray she doesn’t. She bites her lip and nods.
My first thrust is greeted by gripping, velvety tightness that has both of us moaning into each other’s mouth. Her nails bite into my shoulders, and I almost stop, but her hips rise to meet me, letting me know that she’s okay.
I can’t fit all the way inside her with one thrust, so I pull back, working and stretching her carefully with short strokes until I feel my balls nestle against the warm skin of her ass.
I lift her legs to wrap around me, grunting as the pointed tips of her heels dig into my ass.
“Yes . . .” she hisses, lost in desire. But her eyes stay locked on mine as I pull back and start fucking her deeply. She stays with me, her pussy pulsing and tightening around me with every stroke.
“K–Kaede,” she moans as a mini-orgasm ripples through her, her fingernails digging harder into my back. It’s gorgeous, watching the most controlled person I know lose control . . . for me.
I can’t hold back any longer. I give in to my inner desire and pound her savagely with hard, deep strokes that shake our bodies and the bed itself. I take from her even as she takes from me, and when my cock swells, she’s there too.
“Courtney!” I grit out through clenched teeth, forcing my eyes open because I want her, real and here with me, to be the thing I see as pleasure rocks through my body.
She screams as her pussy clamps around my cock in a vise grip and I explode deep into her. I can feel the cords in my neck stand out as the whole world spins, but I don’t mind. There’s only the pleasure, the release, and the woman pinned beneath me as she comes just as hard as I do.
I collapse, half turning to not crush her and pulling out. I’m so exhausted I can’t take the condom off, but who cares? All that matters is that I’m sweaty and sticky-slick with her juices coating my mouth and cock, and I think she bruised my ass with her high heels.
My Big Fat Fake Engagement Page 20