by Mia Faye
“You remember the dinner with Wyatt and Mrs. Flores? During the company retreat?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember our little act, when we pretended to be engaged?”
“Lovebirds who met in a coffee shop? I remember.”
“Well, I need you to come to play house for a couple of days.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like, Yvette. I want you to pretend to be my wife for a couple of days.”
Chapter 14
Cameron
It occurred to me, after I had been speaking for a fairly long time, that Yvette wasn’t paying attention to me. Her eyes were on me, large and wide and lovely, but she seemed to be very far away.
I trailed off and gradually stopped speaking. Yvette barely noticed. Her eyes were glassy, I noticed. Her hand was moving between us, toward me, snaking its way to my torso.
There was something about her that seemed out of place, odd. She wasn’t herself. Or the version of herself I was familiar with. There was a near-permanent smile on her face, and everything she did seemed to fill her with unbridled joy. Her movements were slow and measured; her hand seemed to float between us for a very long time before finally resting on my chest.
She mumbled something, her voice pitching up at the end. A question.
“What was that?” I asked, frozen in place as she began to caress me.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, raising her voice so I could hear her.
It was that slow, slurred speech that made me catch on. Unless I was mistaken, Yvette was high. How had it taken me so long to notice? Well, I suppose it hadn’t. Not really. I knew something was up; I just didn’t figure out what it was soon enough.
My first reaction was amusement. And then curiosity. I had seen Yvette buzzed on wine, but that was about it. This was clearly something different, and I couldn’t wait to see what she did.
She gave me a gentle push with her hand, calling my attention back to her.
“Huh?”
“You were telling me something,” she said. “Why did you stop?”
“Oh. I got distracted, sorry.”
“Distracted by what?”Her mouth spread into a wide grin. She slipped her hand inside my shirt.
I started to speak then stopped, having completely forgotten what the question was. My silence clearly infused her with confidence because the next moment, Yvette was shifting on the couch, closing the distance between us until she was practically inches from my face.
She brought her other hand to my shirt and started to fidget with the buttons. Her fingers were clumsy and impatient, but at that moment, I couldn’t care less. Slowly they worked, gradually undoing the buttons, disrobing me. Eventually, she parted the shirt and ran her nimble fingers over my chest and abs. Her touch was light, her hands strangely warm.
It wasn’t the best place for any of this. We were out in the open, the wind swirling furiously around us. Anyone could walk up through the trapdoor at any moment. Then there was the questionable state of the couch. All valid reasons to push her away and put out the fire she was lighting.
Instead, I brought my finger to her chin and tipped it upward. Her eyes were still slightly unfocused, but they were now glowing with an excitement I hadn’t seen since our first night together. They were half-lidded too, almost sleepy, and it was unbelievably sexy.
She licked her lips, her tongue darting furtively from her mouth and running over her lips, which she then pushed out in an adorable little pout. It was invitation enough. I brought my lips to hers, pulling her into me as I did so.
A faint moan escaped her mouth as I kissed her. She slid her arm around my back and wrapped herself around me. I shifted, letting her weight push me back on the couch. With her arms still around me, she lifted herself, and then her legs were snaking around me too, and she was completely wrapped around me.
The kiss was just as slow and languid as everything else she had done. Clearly, she wasn’t in any rush. She matched my motions with hers, but I let her take the lead after some time. Her lips were soft and full and slick, and they danced in beautiful poetry against mine. Her body writhed in tune, following the rhythm of her lips, rocking back and forth as we kissed.
It was by far the most sensual kiss we had shared. I let my eyes slide shut and fell into a beautiful trance. Smell, touch, taste. It was easy to forget that we were outside. Or that at any second, we could be interrupted. None of it seemed important, only Yvette, and her body twisting against mine.
As she rocked back and forth, I let my hands creep down her back, making lazy caresses down her spine, all the way to her butt. I grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezed and rubbed, the motion pushing her right into my groin and drawing another sharp intake of breath from her. Her mouth slipped from mine. She tilted her head back, the biggest smile on her face. Her hips started rocking against me, grinding, humping.
There were too many layers between us. Way too many. I slipped my arm inside the back of her sweatpants and was pleasantly surprised to find her not wearing any underwear. Wild. Exciting. And now I knew there was no turning back.
I lifted her without warning. She gasped as my arms went under her butt and lifted. Instinctively, the legs locked around my lower back tightened, and I was able to get all the way up.
“Your place?” I mumbled right into her ear.
She shook her head, sending a cloud of her perfume and scent into my nostrils.“Tyler,” she said simply.
Ah, yes. The best friend from home.
“My place?” I asked.
Yvette shook her head again. “Too far.”
I looked skeptically back at the couch. Yvette’s lips went to my neck, prompting, urging, willing me to stop stalling.
She sighed, letting her legs drop from around me. She straightened up as she stood in front of me. Then she grabbed my hand and dragged it to the front of her pants. Her eyes were glued on me as she pushed the hand in. Feel that, they seemed to say. She was so wet it was a surprise the front of her pants wasn’t drenched.
I nodded, my dick throbbing painfully, straining against my jeans. The couch would have to do.
My fingers found the edges of her sweatpants and yanked them down. Yvette grinned and reached for my own pants. There was no hesitation this time. Her whole demeanor had changed; she was more urgent and desperate.
The pants came free, and I let them drop to my ankles. It was incredibly exhilarating being in that situation, knowing where we were and that we were not supposed to be doing this. It added to the excitement in a way I had not anticipated.
I grabbed Yvette and crushed my mouth to hers. It was a fierce kiss, a possessive statement of intent. Just as she was getting into it, I pushed her away, catching a fleeting glance of her puzzled expression just before I whipped her around to face the couch.
She took the cue right away. She leaned down and climbed the couch with her knees, letting her ass trail seductively in the air. I couldn’t help smacking her once across the right cheek, and then once more across the other.
I grabbed her by the hips, stepped forward so I was right behind her, and then let the heat and moistness of her womanhood guide me into her. I was engulfed by a sensation of such pleasure I felt my whole body tremble. I pushed in all the way, burying myself to the hilt, feeling with satisfaction her lips grip my shaft and squeeze.
The rooftop of Yvette’s building had a wonderful view. But it was nothing compared to the view I had been presented with. Yvette was subtly thick; she had a narrow waist, but it ballooned outward into these rounded hips and thick, bouncy ass. The sight of her ass jiggling as I thrust in and out of her was incredibly enticing.
I knew almost immediately that the pace was going to be problematic. I tried going slow, driving my hips forward slowly and pulling out just as slowly. Each time, Yvette moaned, and her body trembled, and she pushed herself back into my groin.
Resigned, I placed both hands on her hips. I switched up the pace without so much as a
warning, and Yvette groaned. Her knees almost gave way under her as I started to pound. The wind was still fierce, but not fierce enough to drown out the sound of our thighs smacking against each other.
I was in control, and I loved it. I played with the speed and intensity of my thrusts, feeling Yvette out, letting her show me how deep I could go, what speed was just right. And then, just when she thought I had established a steady rhythm, I abandoned all restraint and ravished her. Our joint motion was almost a blur; my knuckles were white against her hips, sweat was trickling down my thighs… and my mind was a jumble of incoherent words. She was thrusting backward, and I was pounding too, and after a while, I couldn’t tell who was fucking who, and it was glorious.
Yvette was well past moaning now. She was screaming and calling out my name, her words just about reaching my ears before being snatched away by the wind. And then her body tensed, and I opened my eyes to see her fingers grip the edge of the couch as she started to orgasm. I rode her harder, faster, slamming into her now, hearing my own groans mingle with hers. Then, with a final grunt, I drove into her as deep as I could. It sent me right over the edge. My toes curled inside my shoes. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. My whole body went rigid and then limp.
When my eyes finally opened, and my breathing returned to normal, I gently slid out of her. There were faint lines on her cheeks and hips where I had been grabbing her. I didn’t remember holding on so tightly. It had all happened so fast, and both of us had been completely lost in the moment.
Yvette straightened up. She reached down and pulled her pants up, then collapsed on the couch next to me.
She was silent for a long time. I wondered if she was regretting what had just happened. She had said so many times that she didn’t want us to pursue this dynamic, but we kept falling into each other’s arms. We kept finding each other alone together, and it was no longer possible for me to deny the chemistry we had. I wasn’t sure why she insisted on doing it.
“So, tell me about this plan of yours,” she said after some time. She was still looking away from me, but her hand sought mine and her fingers locked into mine.
“Oh. Right. Well, like I was saying…” Before I was rudely interrupted by your body. “My ex and I have a very complicated relationship. Toxic, really. For reasons best known to her, she won’t let me see my daughter. She’s been getting increasingly unreasonable about visitation, and recently I learned that she started seeing someone, who she introduced to my daughter, Emma.
“Anyway, there has been talking of a custody fight on both sides. I came up with this idea to show her that I would have a good chance of beating her in a custody battle if it came to it, and that’s where you come in. I’ve invited Vicki over for dinner in a week. Nothing too complicated. Just a simple sit down. She hasn’t gotten back to me, so there’s a possibility she won’t even come. But in the event she does, I want us to be ready.”
Yvette nodded slowly. “So, you basically want me to pretend to be your wife to give her the impression you have a happy home?”
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds a little sad.” And it was. “It’s not untrue, but I was thinking of it more in terms of ‘creating a viable domestic setting.’ My buddy Gabriel, who you will recall from when you flashed him your thighs…”
“Hey!”
“That wasn’t a complaint. We both appreciated it greatly.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Gabriel thinks my home is too much of a bachelor pad. And I agree. It needs a feminine touch, at least. I want to make it at least habitable for a child. You know?”
“This is just for a day, right?”
“It should be, yes.”
“I don’t know, Cam…”
“I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.” I was beginning to sound a little desperate. “I’ll pay you, how about that?”The words were out before I’d really thought about them. I realized, as soon as I said it, that offering to pay wasn’t a particularly noble approach. There was a very real possibility that Yvette would feel commodified and get offended. I gritted my teeth and waited for the explosion, the angry rebuke.
The harsh words never came. Instead, Yvette smiled, and she turned to me with laughter in her eyes.“I mean, it’s not exactly the proposal I dreamed of as a girl but go on. Ask me.”
“What?” I stared at her blankly.
“You said you want me to be your fake wife, but you haven’t exactly asked me yet.”
“Oh. Right.”
I got to my feet and then stood facing her. I patted my pockets, realizing I needed a ring. Or something like it. There was nothing but scraps of paper and my keys and wallet. From my back pocket, I pulled out a small wad of cash, unraveled the neatly wrapped notes, and pulled out the small rubber band. I sank to my knees, reaching for and lifting Yvette’s hand to my lips.
“Yvette Matthews. Ever since I met you, I have thought of nothing else. You have lit up my life in ways I didn’t think possible. In the month or so I have known you, you have challenged me, made me laugh, and inspired me. I have known, for at least three hours, that I would like nothing more than to fake-spend the rest of my life with you. Would you do me the honor of being my fake wife?”
Chapter 15
Yvette
The period leading up to the dinner with Vicki was more fun than I had thought it would be. For one, I had expected the whole thing with playing house to be awkward and weird, but it was far from it. Awkward because despite my best efforts, I couldn’t seem to keep my hands off Cam. Even while I battled with my obvious attraction to him, still trying to wrap my head around it, the moment he showed up, my whole body started to tingle.
It was escalated tenfold by the weed. Thanks to Tyler’s sneakiness, I was more open and vulnerable when Cam showed up than I had ever been with him. No inhibition. No shame. No tiny voice in my head telling me to rein it in. Just my body screaming for him, demanding his touch, wallowing in the bliss of his lovemaking. I could still feel Cam’s hands all over me as I walked back to my apartment. I could still taste him, and my body was still tingly. It was a good thing Tyler was asleep when I got back because I wasn’t sure I would have been able to keep my ‘situation’ from him. I hadn’t even figured out how to tell him about Cam yet.
It should have been awkward with Cam afterward. There should have been some post-coital hang-ups. Neither of us brought it up, though, for whatever reason. I purposefully avoided it, choosing instead to quiz Cam about the details of our pretend marriage, and he seemed happy to go along with it. We slipped easily and immediately into the banter we had always shared, and that was that.
It wasn’t weird, either. The fact was, I barely knew Cam, even though it felt like I had seen him every day since I moved to the city. I knew a lot about him, and him me, but the fact that I was just now learning about his daughter showed just how little I actually knew about him. I figured it would be at least a little weird to ‘live’ with him. But Cam was the Cam I had always known. Playful, funny, and very accommodating.
On the first night, he sat me down to discuss the essentials of the arrangement, after I turned down his offer of a tour. I didn’t need one. I had been in his apartment too many times. It helped that he had picked that week to work from home, so I didn’t have to worry about seeing him at the office as well.
“So, this is an agreement between friends, yes?” he asked me.
“What do you mean? As opposed to what?”
“Uh, I could have Gabriel draw up an official contract, something you can sign?”
“What would this contract say?”
“I… I don’t know now that I think about it.”
“I imagine it would include stipulations on our conduct? You know, what we can and cannot do around each other?”
“Ah, yes. That would be helpful. I have a million things I would add to that list just off the top of my head.”
I scoffed. “Like what?”
“Like that thing you do when y
ou blush, and your face turns this delightful shade of red. None of that, please.”
“I can’t control what my face does!” I sputtered. And, as if eager to make my point for me, my cheeks began to heat up.
“See, there you go. Now, if we had a contract, you would have voided it right there and then.”
“Fine. Then you don’t get to take your shirt off.”
Cam laughed. “What?”
“You know what. No more walking around in these flimsy T-shirts, which you then rip off at will.”
Cam reached down and started to pull the T-shirt he was wearing off. “Oh, you mean like this?”
I was treated to a stunning view of rock-hard abs, and I loudly protested and pretended to cover my eyes. It was probably for the best. My cheeks were almost certainly bright red.
“Voided!” I said.
“Okay. Okay. I get it. No contract. As long as you’re comfortable with our arrangement…?”
“I am. We’re adults, Cam. I’m sure we can figure out something as simple as a fake marriage.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I shrugged.
“When did we meet?”
“Uh, a year ago, in Chicago.”
“When’s my birthday?”
“Uh…”
“Do we have pet names?”
“Sure, we have a bunch of them.”
“How do I like my coffee?”
“Umm… Okay. Fine. Maybe we do need to talk it out, get our stories straight. I thought we could just wing it as we did at the company retreat dinner, but I guess that won’t work.”
“Oh, it definitely won’t. You’ll be up against someone way more formidable than sickly old Wyatt Banks. Vicki is vicious. She’ll sniff out even the smallest lie within a second.”
“She sounds charming,” I commented dryly.
“Let’s just say she’s quite the character. We’ll need to be on our A-game, coz it won’t be so easy.”
“I hear you.”
Suddenly, the task seemed herculean and definitely more complicated than I had initially thought. It wasn’t going to be a simple ‘hi’ and ‘would you pass the gravy please’ and then a quick exit. I would have to fully commit to this. Not unlike an actual marriage, ironically.