by Ella Miles
She pouts.
“Your first time making spaghetti?” I ask.
She nods, biting her lip.
Her eyes turn to slits of lust. “But I have a way to make it taste better.”
I raise an eyebrow. “By throwing it in the trash and starting over?”
She giggles. “No, you’re lucky I like you or I might consider that too mean.”
“It’s not mean. It’s the truth. That is the worst thing I’ve ever tasted. You somehow managed to burn it, and the seasoning is all off. Did you use cumin? You know that is usually used in Mexican dishes, not Italian?”
Larkyn turns, holding a spoonful of the sauce up to my lips. “Oh come on, it isn’t that bad. Try it again.”
I close my lips tightly. “Nope, I’m not eating another bite.”
She cocks her head to the side as her hips pop out. She stands taller until her breasts are fully popping out of the low cut sundress she’s wearing. She has a twinkle in her eye that I know means I should run. Far, far away, because whatever she is about to do is trouble.
Instead, I stand intrigued like the idiot I am.
She turns the spoon over, and red marinara sauce drips down onto her breasts.
“Oops,” she says, smiling slyly.
Fuck.
My mouth falls open, and an instinct that is all man and testosterone takes over my brain. I forget about how bad the sauce is. I forget about talking to her. All I can think about is licking the marinara sauce off her tits.
I’m to her body in second. My tongue runs down her neck and over her breasts until I’m licking every drop of the sauce clean from her tits. More drips down between her breasts that I can’t reach.
I rip the dress open, as she stumbles backward into the counter. She grabs another scoopful of sauce and rubs it over her chest and stomach.
It shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. Anything she does turns me on. I remember back to the conversation when I told her I would love a woman to be covered in marinara sauce. It was a fantasy. One that I never thought to act upon. But seeing her covered in red sauce makes me do a weird cross between laughing and wanting.
She looks hot and ridiculous at the same time. And I’ve never wanted a woman more. Not because she looks sexy, but because she planned this. She made me spaghetti so that she could seduce me with a wild fantasy I once told her.
I set her up on the counter and spread her legs apart. Her hands run through my hair, rubbing red sauce all over my head until it’s dripping down my face. I move to wipe it off with the back of my hand, but she leans down and slowly rubs her tongue up from my chin, over my lips, then nose.
I growl. “When did you become so sexy?”
She blushes. “I’ve always been sexy.”
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip. She’s right about that.
She grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it off, making sure she covers my chest with the marinara. She reaches for my pants, but I really don’t want sauce all over my cock. So I use my left hand, that is still relatively clean, to lower my pants and release my cock.
She reaches down to stroke me. It takes every drop of strength I have to push her hand away. I want her hand on me. Desperately. But I don’t want to be covered in red, sticky sauce.
So instead, I push into her opening as I grab her ass and surrender my body to her. I’ve never felt this way before whenever I’ve had sex with a woman. I don’t just want to bring her pleasure. I want to make her mine in every way possible. I want to rule her world and her mind. I want her to never think about anything other than me.
She smiles at me, then arches her back, and I lose her pretty eyes to the pleasure pulsing through her body.
“Look at me, beautiful.”
She slowly tilts her head back to me and forces her eyes open.
“Gorgeous.”
She blushes and stays with me as I feel us both building.
I try to tell her everything with my body. That I love her.
That I want more than a fake marriage.
But I’m terrified of hurting her.
I don’t know how to protect her from the damage I’m capable of. Because for as much crap as I give Sebastian, I’ve been there. I’ve never abused alcohol and drugs, but I’ve buried myself in women or work. No matter what damage it caused other people.
I don’t know how to treat Larkyn as a partner. I don’t know how to truly let her into my life.
I come inside her as she screams her own orgasm. And as much as I desperately tried to tell her how I’m feeling, she doesn’t have a clue at my inner turmoil.
Larkyn grins mischievously, as she fluffs my hair that is drenched in the disgusting sauce.
“I told you I could make it taste better,” she says, with a wink.
I laugh and lift her off the counter. “Sorry, but it tasted disgusting the entire time. You have officially squashed any more dreams of getting to lick marinara sauce of your body.”
She grabs a handful of the sauce from the pot next to me and flings it at me.
I duck, and the sauce scatters on the floor around me, but mostly misses me.
I grab her, lifting her up before she has a chance to attack me with the gross liquid again.
She squeals and flails in my arms as I carry her to the shower in her bedroom.
“Why aren’t we showering in yours? Your shower is bigger.”
I chuckle. I put her down on her feet in the shower. “Because I didn’t want to drip gross marinara sauce in my bedroom or shower.”
She scoops some off her chest and rubs it into my face while I grimace.
“Don’t lie, you love it.”
I turn the water on and watch her squeal as the cold water comes down on top of her. I love the sound. Just like I love everything about her.
I should break up with her. It would be the right thing to do. Release her from our contract. Set her up in a nice home and let her live her life in peace.
But my heart has fallen into the deepest part of love. I can’t stop it. I can’t control it. And I know that this is going to end horribly. Because I’m less than perfect. I’m a human with plenty of flaws. And one of those flaws is going to come crashing into our lives and screw us both, until I’m left with nothing, but heartache and pain.
I love her. But I’m not enough for her. She’s going to realize it as soon as I fuck up. I’ve managed to hang on this long, maybe I can stop myself from fucking up for years, so that I can at least have some more time with her.
Or maybe, I should break up with her, and spare her the heartbreak before she falls in love with me.
17
Larkyn
“So what should we celebrate with? Wine? Champagne? Whiskey? Margaritas?” Serena asks, as I sit across from her at our favorite lunch spot.
“And what exactly are we celebrating?” I lean back in my chair. We are definitely celebrating something, Serena just doesn’t know what it is yet.
“Spending time with each other, for one. It’s been four months since you got married and we’ve barely hung out. So we are celebrating us getting back together again.”
I laugh. “Fine, order whatever alcohol you want.”
“Margs it is then.”
I smile sweetly at her. “How are things going with work?”
“I’m doing amazing. I’ve already been promoted and got a huge raise. I’ve fixed their ridiculous filing system. My employers have realized they can’t live without me.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like you have thoroughly charmed them.”
She nods. “Enough about my boring job though. How are Kade and you doing?”
I can’t look her in the eye as I fidget with the napkin in my lap. “We are good.”
She squints trying to look for something. “We’re good. That’s all I get? How’s the sex?”
I laugh nervously. “Amazing. Not that I have a lot to compare to—”
Serena snickers.
“But I have no complaints in the sex
department.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t have a problem.”
She stares at me, deadpanned. “You have a problem.” She turns to the waiter. “Two margaritas please.”
I sigh. “It isn’t real.”
Serena rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you; it’s real.”
I tense. I know she’s right. That we have feelings toward each other. But neither of us have acted on them in four months. It’s been over a month since Kade said he loved me when he thought I was asleep. He’s not mentioned anything like it since. Not one word. And my own heart has flipped back and forth so many times; I’m not sure what I feel anymore. One second I love him, the next I hate him.
“What about the job or life search as you call it? Have you figured out what you want to do with your life?”
I lick my lips, trying to find the words to tell her what I’ve been hiding for two weeks now. I need to tell someone, and she’s that someone. But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I have to actually act on the words. I sure as hell don’t have time to look for a meaningful job when I’m holding in a secret that will change my life forever.
“No, I haven’t found anything.”
Serena frowns. But the frown doesn’t last as our server places two large margaritas in front of both of us. She lifts her glass up, and I do the same.
“To many more sleepless nights, as we both get to fuck two of the hottest and most endowed guys in town,” Serena says.
I clink my glass with hers and then set mine down.
She studies me a moment. Looking me up and down. “Oh my god!” she squeals.
“Shh,” I say, not wanting her to blurt out her next words too loudly.
“You’re pregnant,” she whisper-yells, as she leans across the table. At least she attempted to be quiet.
I nod.
“Does Kade know? Was it planned?”
I shake my head.
“Were you using protection?”
“The pill.”
“When are you going to tell Kade?”
I shrug.
Serena laughs and gets up from the table and comes over to hug me. “At least I get to drink two margaritas for lunch.”
I smile and lean into her chest. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m pregnant. With Kade King’s child. We are fake married. We aren’t even in a real relationship. But we are having a baby. And I have no idea how Kade is going to react when I tell him.
I’ve been avoiding Kade all day.
I’ve gone to the grocery store multiple times to pick up things I forgot on previous trips.
I went to the post office to get stamps, not that I have anything to mail.
I filled my car up with gas and drove through two separate car washes.
I thought somehow doing those mindless tasks would bring me some clarity of mind and help me figure out how to tell my fake husband we are pregnant. For real.
How do I tell a man, who thought this was nothing more than a fake arrangement, that we are now bonded together for life, whether we want to be or not?
How do I even start that conversation?
I don’t have the answers as I slowly walk into his house. I close the door carefully, hoping if he doesn’t hear me enter, I can stall having the conversation for a little longer.
Stop being a chicken.
I clear my throat. “Kade?” I holler as I walk into the kitchen. It’s around dinner time, but he’s not in the kitchen. I hear voices down the hallway where his office is. Maybe he has a client back there, or Axel is over discussing things as they usually do?
I start walking down the hallway toward his office. I need to tell him I’m home and ask if we can chat later. Otherwise, I’ll lose my nerve again and won’t talk to him until tomorrow or the next day or the next.
My hand raises over his closed door to knock. He never closes the door, so it’s strange it’s closed now. My hand stops in midair.
“This is your child, Kade,” a woman’s voice says.
I still. Did Kade knock up more women than just me?
Kade laughs, like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “The child isn’t mine, Harlow. I can do the math. The last time we had sex was in January. This child is too young to be mine.”
“I’m filing to sue you for child support. Or you can give me five million to make this all go away. It will be far less than what I get when I win my case.”
“No. I want a paternity test, because there is no way that child is mine.” A pause. And I feel tears threatening my eyes.
“And even if the child is mine. So what? I’ll provide child support. I’ll make sure the child has the money he’s owed. But that’s it. You aren’t getting a penny of my money. I’ll make sure every penny I give you goes to the child. And even then, your child won’t inherit anything. You won’t mean anything to me. I never wanted a child. Certainly not yours.”
Tears pour out of my eyes like lava. They burn more and more, the heavier they flow out. I don’t care if he knocked up Harlow. I don’t care if he has a child other than the baby growing inside me. All I can focus on is five little words. I never wanted a child.
I force my legs to run away to my bedroom where I let all the tears fall. And in their place, the anger comes.
All the times that Kade has been a jerk to me flood my head. And most of all, the fact that even though he might feel love for me, he’s never acted on those feelings. He doesn’t want me.
He doesn’t want our baby.
I won’t listen to him cause me pain. But I can’t stay here either. I want out.
I head to the bathroom, dry my eyes, and pinch my cheeks, trying to look like I haven’t spent the last ten minutes crying, and then I storm toward the kitchen where I can hear Kade cooking.
“Hey, dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” Kade says.
I can’t wait ten minutes.
I pull the heavy ring off my finger and place it on the counter.
Kade raises an eyebrow. “Something wrong with the ring?”
“No, something is wrong with whatever this is that we are doing.”
He stops stirring the delicious smelling Asian dish he is making and faces me.
“I’m sorry Larkyn, but I don’t understand, and I’ve had a shitty day, so I’d love it if you could speak plain English and get whatever fight we are about to have over with.”
“I’ll make this easy for you then. I want out of our contract. I’m done being fake married to you.”
He blinks rapidly, and then narrows his eyes at me, as he cockily crosses his arms. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired. This isn’t what I thought it would be.”
He cocks his head to one side. “And what did you think would happen?”
“I thought that you would buy me jewelry every other week, take me to fancy parties, and go on nice vacations with me. I thought I would get to enjoy more of the perks of being your wife,” I say, lying through my teeth. I don’t care about any of those things, but I know that money is sensitive with Kade. It’s the main thing we’ve fought over. What I did with his money. And after Harlow tried to blackmail him for money, I have no doubt he is very sensitive about the subject now.
He narrows his eyes like he’s looking through to my soul. “What would it take for you to stay?”
I wasn’t expecting him to talk so calmly about this or to ask me that question, but I know my answer immediately.
“I want five million dollars,” I say, lying. All I want is his heart. I want him to love his future child the way that I do. But that’s asking too much.
He doesn’t even flinch, and I think he might say fine. He’ll do it. Maybe if he’s willing to pay me five million dollars when he just denied it to Harlow, that means I’m special to him. Instead, he stands stoically looking at me while he reads me like an open book.
“What did
you do with the money I gave you?”
I can feel my stomach clenching as he speaks. I’m about to be sick. I can’t stay here much longer without upchucking. And yet I can’t force myself to leave because I know these are our last moments together.
“I bought the most expensive house I could afford with it.”
His eyes drop in disappointment. “Then, I’ll have my lawyer draw up the terms to release you from my contract.”
He walks toward me looking me dead in the eyes. I can’t move. All I can do is smell his familiar smell of a deep cologne. I take in the last flicker of his dark eyes, and the curve of his lips as he frowns.
“You owe me nothing. And I owe you nothing. I’ll put into the media that the divorce was amicable. And then we are done.” When he says the word done, he turns and walks back to his pot, stirring it like we didn’t just have the soul-crushing conversation we just had.
Contrastingly, it takes everything in my body to turn and walk to my bedroom before my stomach empties into the toilet. I don’t know where I’m moving or what I’m doing with my life. I don’t know if, in a few years, I’m going to regret ever agreeing to fake marry Kade or if I’m going to appreciate it because I love our child so much. I can’t think beyond this moment. Because in this moment, I’m pregnant, and alone.
18
Kade
“What are you still doing here? I can handle this, go home,” Axel says next to me, as I clean the bar for the fifth time.
“I know you can handle it, but I want tonight to go perfectly,” I say, ignoring him as I continue to clean. I don’t add that it has been three months since I’ve seen Larkyn, and I’m losing my damn mind. I can’t think, I can’t sleep, the only time I can even pretend to function well is when I’m at work, and that’s only because there is something for me to focus on to keep my mind off things.
“Go home. You hired me to be the manager. Now let me do my job and go home. I’ve dealt with plenty of corporate events before. I can handle making sure the bar is clean.” Axel snatches the rag out of my hand.
I glare at him.