by Christa Wick
I dipped my head, feeling my own eyes begin to moisten. I had to give Blake credit -- he was thorough. While he probably didn't think Abigail would expose the relationship as a sham if she found out, he had to know she'd be incredibly believable if she thought it was real. She might casually mention it to her husband or son or hairdresser. The story would leak out from there. I'd fashioned more than one information campaign that way. It worked. Make part of your target audience believe it and they would convince everyone else.
“Yes, that would have made a great picture.” I gulped down the rest of the omelet and stood up. Plate in hand, I looked around for the sink but Abigail took the dish away.
“You go ahead. I texted the driver that you would be along in a few minutes.”
“You're a jewel, Abigail.” Leaning across the counter, I gave her a quick peck on the cheek before I realized what I was doing. Blushing, I mumbled my good-bye and hurried out of the penthouse, silently cursing Blake and hoping the truth, when it finally came out, wouldn't hurt Abigail too badly.
I spent a few hours at work before heading to a meeting with another attorney from the law firm Blake used. This time to deal with the IRS agent who was intent on making my life a living hell. I had to hand it to Blake's attorneys -- the agent left the office meek as a lamb. I was so ecstatic I had to keep myself from doing fist pumps as I left.
Running into Anna Burke in the lobby of my office building shattered my elation. She had a two-day old copy of the Post folded to page six in her hand. Seeing that I had noticed her, she offered me a chilly smile.
“Hello, Pippa. Remember me?”
I tried to smile back but couldn't bring myself to do it. Even before she left Blake's company, I'd always felt like I had cockroaches crawling over me when Anna was present. “Sure, you used to work at Cross. You looking for a job or something?”
Her posture stiffened and the hand clutching the paper started to ball into a fist. “No, I came here to warn you about Blake Cross. He doesn't love you.”
Surprise flashed across my face. I tilted my head and stared at her throat. “That's funny, I don't see an Adam's apple but you must have one helluva set of balls on--”
“Don't try to be clever, Pippa. It doesn't suit you.” She unfolded the Post and drew out several sheets of copy paper. “I'm suing Blake.”
I reached for the papers but she jerked them back.
“He's seducing you to get at me and divert the public's attention from the case.” She smiled again, trying so damn hard to soften its predatory curve that her lips quivered. “Don't be a fat little fool about this. I'm trying to be your friend.”
Looking into her pale blue gaze, I realized for the first time she wore tinted contacts. I returned her smile, wondering if anything about Anna was real. “Is that what he did, seduce you so he could get something out of you?”
The papers she held snapped half an inch from my face. Seeing it coming, I didn't flinch.
Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at me. “Unlike you, I can get any man I want. Do I look like the kind of dumb bimbo that would fall for something like that?”
She really shouldn't have asked. She was exactly that kind of dumb bimbo. I smiled, my head slowly bobbing in answer. I started to turn toward the bank of elevators. “I have a business to run, Anna. Don't bother me with this again.”
Burke clutched at my sleeve. “You're just a pawn in this, he'll drop you the second the suit is over or his little ploy doesn't work.”
Grabbing her wrist, I squeezed at its pressure points until she had to let go of the fabric. “Come near me again and Blake will get a restraining order against you. And, for the record, I'm no one's pawn.”
Her gaze went as flat as any killer’s. Her whole face narrowed as her nostrils flared. “Then you're his paid whore. I hope, for your sake, the money's good. I know the sex is.”
Hearing the elevator door chime, I spun on my heels and stepped inside, my gaze meeting hers one last time in the mirrored panels before the doors shut. Alone, I leaned against the side wall, my hands trembling with anger.
She was right. I was Blake's paid whore. Not just figuratively. I'd already spread my legs once for him, that first night at the penthouse when he'd suckled my clit until the last of what I was dissolved into nothing. I had spread them a second time in the limo and would again after the wedding, letting him thrust into me so the pre-nup would be valid.
The elevator doors opened and I pressed the close button before jabbing the button for the lobby floor. Stepping outside, I scanned quickly to see if Anna was still in the area and then I called the driver for him to double back and take me to Blake's office.
We needed to talk. He needed to know she was suspicious and I needed to know if he...if they...
I shook my head, flinging tears.
I didn't need to know whether they’d fucked. What I needed was out of the deal. I needed to wake up in the morning in my own bed and be able to look myself in the mirror and not flinch.
None of that mattered, of course.
More than anything, I needed the money.
**********
“Tell me again from the beginning.” Blake had me backed up against his office wall, his hands on my shoulders to stop my pacing. “Don't leave anything out.”
I glared at him. I'd already been through it twice with him. Three more times in my head on the ride over. My stomach was twisted in knots and I didn't want to think, let alone speak, about Burke ever again.
“Please, PJ, just one last time. You were holding back, I can see it on your face.”
I closed my eyes. Most everything had come spilling out the second I had shut his office door, my guts all but strewn across the fancy Oriental rug adorning his floor. I recounted how she had said he didn't love me, that this was all because she was suing him, that she'd thrust some legal papers at me but yanked them away before I had a chance to read them, how she had intimated they had sex -- which he denied -- and, last, how she'd called me a pawn.
I shook my head. “I only left out that she said I was your paid whore and she hopes the money is good after I told her I wasn't anyone's pawn.”
Still holding back, I didn’t mention she’d called me a fat little fool. It was bad enough repeating that she had called me a whore.
He cocked a brow, his gaze intense as he studied me. I was sure he knew that I was still holding back, but, in the end, he seemed convinced. “Did you make that face when she said it?”
Scowling, I tried to push him away from me. “I'm not making any face.”
“Yes, you are. You look like you believe every last nasty thing that cu—” He cut himself short with a growl.
His fingers brushed against my cheek, but I looked away. “Like I care what Anna Burke thinks. And I didn't make any face that she could see. I turned around and stalked into the elevator.”
I left out the fact that our eyes had locked one last time before the elevator doors shut.
“PJ, your face communicates a lot more than you think.” Gripping my chin with his thumb and index finger, he forced me to look at him. “It was one of the things I first noticed about you.”
Cupping my face with both hands, he stroked his thumbs along my cheek bones. “You're like a fine porcelain doll with a built in emoticon button.”
Closing my eyes, I bit at the inside of my lip. Feeling my hands shake, I pressed both palms against my stomach. I couldn't have him knowing what was running through my head now or ever again. It would be too embarrassing if he realized how I felt. Worse than that, he might feel pity and that's the last thing I wanted from Blake Cross.
“How much longer is this going to drag out?” I whispered the question, not trusting myself to control my pitch if I spoke any louder. “She hasn't even filed suit yet, has she?”
“Not yet, but if I know Anna, she'll want to cast her shadow over the wedding by filing first.”
I felt him stiffen against me as if he was bracing himself. “So she
’ll file soon.”
My eyes flew open. “When’s the wedding?”
“This weekend. The announcement will run in tomorrow's Post.”
This weekend! He could have at least consulted me about the timing. A full day hadn’t even passed since I signed the contract. I shook my head at him. “That's too soon! I haven't--”
Blake's gaze narrowed. “This weekend, PJ. It won't look good if the Post has to run a correction. And you don't have to worry about planning anything.”
“What, Vegas?” A sneer crawled up the side of my face to be erased a second later with an angry twitch of my nose. I didn’t care where we got married and Vegas was the perfect place for a fake marriage to start.
“Cayman Islands. I chartered planes to accommodate all the guests -- your friends won't need visas, just their passports.” His hands molded around my face, the fingers threading through my hair as he massaged the side of my head.
I closed my eyes again. As much as I tried to stop it, my body started to shake. He really expected me to drag my friends to a fake wedding? Of course, the alternative was laying them off. “Please, Blake. This isn't...I mean, my friends--”
“You’d invite your friends to a real wedding,” he said, cutting me off. “Maybe Anna will read the announcement and settle cheap before you have to marry me. Would that make you happy, Pippa?”
The way my chest immediately tightened, I knew it would make me miserable. I'd be out of Blake's life that much faster. But at least I could start getting over him and the amount of time my ass and thighs had to spend in the media spotlight would end. My lips pressed tightly together to hide their quiver, I slowly nodded.
His hands abruptly pulled back. By the time I had my eyes open, he was halfway to his desk, his gaze intent on its surface.
“Well, I'll do my best to make you happy, PJ.”
I didn't say anything. It was clear from his posture that he wanted this to end just as fast as I did. Every day spent as my fiancé or husband was a day lost pursuing the woman he actually loved.
I crept toward the door, ready to slink away when he stopped me.
“Wait, I'll walk you out.”
My hand on the door knob, I looked over my shoulder at him. “Why?”
His eyes glittered like moonlight striking frost just after sunset. “Anna hasn't caved yet -- we still have a show to put on.”
The knots in my stomach tightened. I shook my head.
He shook his head back at me. “You came in here visibly upset. I can't have you walking out like this.”
I tried to school my features into those of a woman just a few days away from marrying the man she loved -- only for real.
His smile was cold, warming only for show as he opened the door. “I appreciate the effort, love, but let me drive.”
His hand against the curve of my back, he steered me toward his private elevator. Once we were inside, he pushed me into the corner, his hands roaming over my hips as he cinched my waist tight against his groin.
“Blake...” I tried to capture his wrists but his hands were like eels, strong and twisting.
Evading my attempts to stop him, he whispered a warning into my ear. “Security camera and a guard who whines too loudly about his pay. So stop fighting and pretend you like it.”
“I can’t right now.” That was a lie. I didn't need to pretend. My body vibrated with its need for him.
“Then pretend it’s someone else touching you.” His hand traveled up to my breast, palming my flesh as his hips pressed into the swell of my stomach. “Someone you want caressing you.”
My nipples hardened. Blake was the only one I wanted touching me and I was scared shitless I’d feel that way far longer than our pretend marriage was going to last.
Reaching behind him, he stopped the elevator. His lips found the spot just below my right ear that made my knees give out. I clutched at his shoulders, rising up on my tiptoes as I did so.
“What’s his name?” There was an edge to his whisper, his hand squeezing my breast in rough punctuation. “Is it Kevin?”
I pressed my head against the wall so I could see Blake’s face. He was kidding, right? Kevin’s handsome, but he’s a cock magnet. Surely Blake had noticed?
Only his face didn’t look like he was kidding. The gray eyes were darkening, the pupils pulsing against the irises. Unsettled by the intensity of Blake’s gaze, I swallowed hard before I managed a short stammer. “Why would you say that?”
He ran his fingertips up my arm, all the way to my face, as he carefully studied my reaction. “You don’t wince when he touches you. Are you in love with him?”
I wanted to throw Blake’s words back at him and say that the man I was in love with was obnoxiously clueless to the point that his every touch was breaking my heart. Instead, I shook my head.
His hands moved quickly, one against my breast once more, the other cupping my mound. “Then who’s this heat for, PJ?”
He kneaded me, breast and pussy. His mouth zeroed in on mine, his tongue forcing my lips open, forcing my entire mouth to yield to his kiss. “Who are you going to think of when I fuck you Sunday? Who have you been thinking of each time I’ve touched you?”
Blake kissed me again, everything rougher and faster. I closed my eyes and bit down on the moan clawing its way up my throat. His hips started to grind at me. His hands cupped my bottom and lifted me, until I had to throw my legs around his hips to steady myself. Even with our clothes separating us, I could feel the thick bulge of his hard cock against my sensitive clit. He was dry fucking me, bringing me to climax with who knew how many guards watching us on the security camera.
The moan finished clawing its way out. My ass cheeks tensed as another moan whipped through me and he hugged my mound tight against his dick. “Are you coming, baby?”
“Yes, damn you.” My arms were wrapped around his shoulders, one of my hands cradling the back of his skull, my nails digging into his scalp as my hips started to jerk and I cried out.
Blake eased me back onto my feet, his gaze boring all the way to the back of my skull as he reached behind him once more to restart the elevator’s descent. As the rest of the floors passed, he didn’t look away from my face -- wouldn’t let me look away either. His hand cupped my face every time I tried and forced me to return his hard stare until we reached the elevator and the doors opened.
Blake gently guided me into the garage before hitting the button for the top floor. Settling against the elevator's back wall, a wolfish grin surfaced on his handsome face, his gaze starting to dance in amusement. “Don't wait up, love. I have a lot of work to do tonight so I can…marry you on Sunday.”
Heart pounding in my chest, I watched the doors close.
There was no mistaking the import of his pause, or his real meaning.
On Sunday, Blake Cross was going to fuck me.
**********
Blake was a ghost until the time came for us to leave for the airport Saturday morning. He didn’t get home until late both nights, didn’t sleep in the same bed with me and was out before I woke at seven both mornings. I was starting to think he was having second thoughts, which would have been fine by me so long as he didn’t cancel the loan.
Waking me with a kiss, he banished my foolish hope that I was going to get out of the deal with my business and my heart intact. “Good morning, beautiful. Ready to get married?”
I pulled the blanket up over my head and turned on my side. “Not really.”
“Mmmm.”
I felt his weight shift on the bed and then the bottom edge of the covers started a slow crawl up my legs. I pulled my knees up to my chest and tried to wrap the blanket tighter around me.
“I’m going to have one hell of a time getting through airport security with you slung over my shoulder and still wearing your nightie, PJ.”
The blankets inched higher and then his fingertips brushed the sole of my foot. My foot twitched and I pulled it closer to me. He traced the protrusion of my ankle
bone and then ran one finger halfway up the curve of my calf. With my legs bent, that left his hand at the threshold of my pussy.
He took the detour, his knuckles rubbing against the edge of my panties. The flex of my inner muscles was followed by his soft laugh.
“Baby, don’t tempt me.” He cupped my bottom. “It’s been hard as hell staying out of here these last two nights.”
Need paralyzed me. My stomach tightened and then my whole body tensed.
“Shhh…love.” Blake leaned over me, pulling the cover down enough to expose my face. I kept my eyes closed. His hand moved down again, the knuckles grazing up and down the gusset of my panties. His other hand stroked my hair. Kissing along the side of my nose, he caught a tear before transferring the salty drop to my lips. “You need to get dressed, PJ. Shower if you want, and let me handle the rest of the weekend, okay?”
One last kiss, one last stroke, and then he left me to get ready.
Twenty minutes later I emerged from the shower in a rush to find that he’d already packed my bags and laid an outfit on the bed for me to wear. It was a pale turquoise georgette over a silk sheath. A pashmina stole in matching blue to keep my bare arms warm was folded next to the dress. All of it was from the same boutique as the first two outfits he’d bought for me to wear.
Despite the dread twisting through my stomach, I found myself smiling. Blake Cross knew how to dress a woman, no matter her size. He had even managed to make me look good.
Thinking of the other things he knew how to do for a woman with equal skill, I felt my skin flush hot. Trying to ignore my growing arousal, I slipped into the dress. My hands were still fumbling at the back zipper when Blake came in carrying a silk clutch. Handing me the purse, he stepped behind me. He ran a finger up my spine, the whisper of contact forcing me to stand straighter. He drew the zipper up and then his hands curled around my shoulder.
“Passport’s inside the clutch.” He kissed my shoulder and then wrapped the stole around me. Keeping one hand on me the whole time, Blake guided me out of the penthouse and down to the limo.