Counterfeit Boyfriend

by Cindi Madsen

  People chuckled, and Gwen squeezed my hand under the table.

  Then she downed her drink and chased that with mine, so I went to get us another round.

  “Ooh, thank you!” Gwen said when I handed over the drink. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her words were starting to slur together. “Cheers!” Her glass clanked against the one in my hand, and then she tipped it to her lips. When I didn’t copy the move, she frowned at me. “You know ‘cheers’ means drink, right?”

  I leaned forward, sliding my hand around to cup the back of her knee and locking eyes with her. “Just making sure you’re good.”

  “I am. Open bar rocks, am I right?” She patted my thigh, rather high, and I was acutely aware of her leaving her hand there. “Usually I’m the one who’s cautious and responsible and you’re the one drinking too much.”

  “Tonight I’ll be the responsible one.”

  Her lower lip stuck out in an over-the-top pout. “I want you to go on a brain vacation with me. Let’s get a little sloppy. Thanks to the fact we get to stay in a room at the resort tonight, we don’t have to worry about a designated driver, and it’s the closest to an all-expenses paid brain vacation we can get.” Her fingers twitched on my thigh, causing another part of me to twitch, too. “I want to take that vacation with you. We have to get serious about life and jobs and your career and all that other shit as soon as tonight ends, so let’s make this last night of our road trip an epic one.”

  How could I argue with that logic when it fit so well with what I wanted? I lifted my glass. “To an epic night!”

  With a tiny squeal, Gwen clinked her glass to mine, and then we both downed the contents of our glasses…

  A light buzz was my original goal, but Gwen and I came up with a game that involved drinking whenever someone said the words “bride”, “groom”, “connection”, or “perfect for each other” and things turned slightly out of control.

  Our tablemates joined in about halfway through, Gwen’s bubbly, giggly demeanor drawing them right in. Soon people were casting longing glances our way, as if they regretted not being at the fun table.

  Okay, we got a few admonishing glares as well, but we were too drunk and laughing too hard to pay them much mind. At one point, the bride and groom even came over to do a shot with us.

  Madison insisted Gwen try to catch the wedding bouquet, and I about fell to the ground laughing when her not-even-close attempt to catch the bouquet sent several women down like bowling pins.

  Apparently, we were on the same wavelength, because when she spun to face me, she threw her fists in the air and shouted “Strike!”

  “You forgot a spare,” I said, jerking my chin toward the woman who’d caught the bouquet.

  Gwen shrugged, then threw her arms around me—nearly knocking me over—as she fused her mouth to mine. Desire and alcohol were the perfect combo to get rid of those pesky thoughts I’d been having. I couldn’t quite remember what they were, but I remembered they were a buzzkill, so good riddance.

  We were coerced into doing the chicken dance with the bridal party, where I mostly watched Gwen do a version that involved half the regular steps, plus occasionally using my body as a stripper pole. She slid up and down and worked me into a lust-fueled tornado—when the girl let go, she really let go.

  Honestly, it’d been a long time since I’d let go, too. I let myself touch her as much as I wanted to, whether it was winding my fingers through her hair, or dragging my fingers across the line of her collarbone, or letting my lips do the touching.

  Of course, even though there was plenty of other types of touching I wanted to do, I wasn’t wasted enough to ignore social etiquette and breach PG-13 levels. My mind constantly spun with images that pushed into R-rated territory, though.

  On our way back to the table, we grabbed more drinks to go with the cake they’d set out.

  “I wonder why Madison chose roses.” Gwen gestured toward the red-rose centerpieces I’d only vaguely noticed before she pointed them out. Come to think of it, the bouquet she’d tried to catch a few minutes ago matched. “They’re super pretty and all, but we had a conversation once about how everyone always equates roses with romance, which leaves other pretty flowers totally underutilized. Flowers I think would be more romantic. Personally, I like tulips. No thorns, just these sweet flowers that are the first to pop up and announce spring to the world. Like trumpets of awesomeness.”

  “Personally, I like your lips,” I said—apparently drinking brought out my super cheesy side. Since she kissed me again, I decided to mark it as a win anyway. She tasted like cake, too, so double bonus.

  The world grew hazy at the edges over the next several drinks and minutes, and then suddenly Gwen was standing and tugging me to my feet.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “The photo booth! Finally there’s not a line anymore, and I want to take some goofy pictures in there with you. Capture this night in one of those cute film strips.”

  The second the curtain to the booth closed, we went from a fancy event with a crowd to a cozy space with just the two of us. The same way it’d been on the trip here; the way I wanted it to be forever.

  “Ready?” she asked, her finger hovering over the button.

  “Ready.”

  The first picture we pulled goofy faces. The next, I pressed my lips to hers. Everything I’d been holding back surged forward at once, the current so strong I was drowning in it, and more than that, I longed to go under. A disjointed voice in the depths of my mind whispered that I needed to stay in control, but I couldn’t remember why, and then I was pulling Gwen onto my lap and sliding my hands up her smooth thighs.

  She rocked against me, and I groaned and kissed her again. Flashes went off. I wasn’t sure how many. Seconds blurred into minutes as one kiss bled into another.

  “Wow, you’ve really got a hold of my ass there,” Gwen said.

  Somewhere during the making out, I’d moved my hands to the ass I’d been obsessing over since the moment I laid eyes on her in this dress. “Sorry, I—”

  “Don’t be sorry. I like it.” She bent over me, her curves pressing against my chest, and grabbed my ass. “Remember how we’re letting go for the night? Stop holding back.” She kissed me, rolling her tongue over mine, and my fingers dug into her ass, squeezing and kneading as I took control of the kiss. I notched her higher in my lap so that her damp heat lined up with my rock-hard cock.

  Her moan left me completely undone, a man now driven solely by baser urges. A ragged groan ripped from my throat as I arched against her. She shuddered against me, and the last of my self-control snapped and unraveled at her feet.

  The knock made both of us jump.

  “Shit.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know someone was in there,” came a muffled voice.

  Gwen giggled, the sound coming out more as a snicker since she was trying to keep it quiet.

  A regretful noise sounded in my throat as she climbed off me. We straightened our clothes and hair the best we could in the tiny space, and I knocked my elbow on the side.

  “Ouch.” I was still rubbing it when we exited the booth, and Gwen grabbed my arm, lifted it, and kissed my elbow. Then she slid my arm over her shoulders. We took two steps away from the booth before she abruptly spun around. “Our pictures!”

  She picked them out of the slot where they’d printed, and I studied them over her shoulder.

  Us making a goofy face—Gwen won that one.

  Us kissing—I won that one because I got to kiss Gwen.

  And in the third… well, she’d said I really had a hold of her ass and now we had the photographic evidence.

  I reached over her and yanked the strip from her fingers. “I’m keeping this. Hell, I’m hanging it on the fridge. Some people brag about their kids’ art; I want to brag about my girlfriend and her nice ass.”

  The elderly couple passing by us widened their eyes.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Miller,” Gwen said, a blush sweeping
across her cheeks. Then she smacked my arm. “That was my second-grade teacher.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m relatively sure she can’t give you detention anymore.”

  She laughed and then her eyes met mine. An intoxicating cocktail of hunger and heat flickered through her multicolored irises, and I had to remind myself I couldn’t back her up against the nearest surface and have my wicked way with her. As our last interrupted session proved, there were too many people around for that.

  I practically saw a lightbulb go off over her head before she leaned in and whispered, “I have an idea.”

  “The lawyer in me is already going to advise this is a bad idea.”

  “Counting those chicks a bit early, aren’t you?” She trailed her fingertips down my arm and then grabbed my hand. “You’re not a lawyer yet, so tell that buzzkill to shush up and come with me. Trust me, it’s a very good idea.” She slid her fingers between mine, and then I was useless to do anything but follow.

  24 Gwen

  “You’re not serious,” Evan said.

  “I’ve never been more serious.” A big sign with large red lettering read WARNING and the stuff underneath it had all that authorized personnel only, hard hats required mumbo jumbo, but clearly they were being overly cautious to avoid frivolous lawsuits and the like. And when it came down to it, I was interested in what was beyond the construction zone. “Come on. Surely you’re up for an adventure.”

  “An adventure, sure. Aiding and abetting? Not so much.”

  “We’re not going to get caught.”

  “I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re not exactly subtle. Or quiet. Or anything it takes to sneak into somewhere.”

  “For years I’ve heard all about the amazing pool at the resort from tourists, and when Madison decided to have her wedding here, I thought, ‘finally, I’ll get to use the amazing pool and see if the mineral water lives up to the hype.’”

  “Right, but they have all these signs that apologize for the inconvenience and state that until they fix the drainage pipe for this portion of the resort, it’s too dangerous.” Evan gestured to the largest of the signs, the mumbo-jumbo-one I’d decided was more of a loose suggestion. “See? Warning. In all caps, so you know it’s real.”

  I frowned at him. “Sure. If I was a toddler who could fall into the pit they’ve dug and couldn’t get out, it’d be dangerous.”

  “You’re drunk and wearing high heels, which is pretty much the same thing.”

  Keeping my gaze on his, I defiantly kicked off my shoes. I was going to lose them anyway—climbing the fence that surrounded the pool in a dress would be enough of a challenge. “We toasted to an epic night, remember? Not only have I always wanted to swim in the pool, I’ve always wanted to skinny dip, which I’m planning on doing when I get to the other side of that fence. Your choice whether you join me or not.”

  If he decided on not, well that would be a real bummer to my ego. But since I truly believed he’d follow, I backed up so I could give myself a running start. My adrenaline surged and then I was running toward the ditch with the exposed pipe.

  Oh, holy shit. I jumped for all I was worth, my arms wildly swinging in the air.

  The loose dirt of the embankment slipped under my feet, but I managed to catch my balance and right myself. Then I turned to Evan and arched an eyebrow.

  With an oath of stringed-together swearwords, he backed up. His long legs ate up the distance and the moon lit up his dark figure as he launched himself over the exposed pipe.

  He didn’t land in the loose dirt or even stumble, which seemed unfair since he was at least as drunk as I was. Not that I wanted him to fall in the pit or anything. A mere wobble to prove he was human would’ve been nice.

  I glanced down at the crevice we’d just jumped. “Speaking of laying pipe right…” I turned to Evan and waggled my eyebrows.

  He shook his head, but that smile that brought out his jawline and those sexy grooves in his cheeks broke free.

  I swiped my hands together. “One barrier down, one to go.”

  Evan dragged a hand over his face as I moved over to the fence and studied the grooves and notches. “Great. My first official case is going to be defending myself for breaking into a pool.”

  “No it’s not, silly.” I flashed him my most syrupy-sweet smile. “It’ll be defending me for breaking in. I’m sure you’ll get one of those court-appointed attorneys. Maybe the judge will let him take you on as a type of community service, which will give you the experience you need to get through law school. Really, I’m doing this for you.”

  “Really, you shouldn’t have,” he deadpanned. “You can still not do it, in fact.”

  “Oh, we’re doing it,” I said before realizing what it sounded like. But I was hoping to do that, too, so no need to clarify. He could take it wherever he wanted to. Please be to a deliciously dirty place.

  The fence quivered as I worked on my footing—these plastic fences were so damn slick, with no worn wooden grooves to find better purchase. Jeez, it was like they wanted to keep people out or something.

  Finally, I managed to pull myself halfway up, but the fence wobbled more as Evan climbed up behind me. After a quick glance around, I swung myself up and over—going a bit too big and having to slow my fall by dragging my hands and body down the other side of the fence. I landed hard on my butt on the cement, my teeth jarring together, and while I’d probably feel it more tomorrow, the alcohol in my system acted as a nice numbing agent.

  Naturally, Evan landed all gracefully and shit. He looked down at me, his expression equal parts amusement and concern. “You okay, Ocean’s One?”

  “Don’t you mean Ocean’s Two? Don’t try to wash your hands of this.”

  “I tried. I failed.” He reached down and pulled me to my feet.

  I brushed off my backside, wincing and then twisting to try to see the damage. I tugged my skirt up a few inches. “Did I scrape up my butt?”

  Evan didn’t answer, and when I glanced up at him, his slackened jaw and the raw hunger in his eyes sent a shock of awareness through me. Suddenly I was remembering why I’d risked fence-climbing and a scraped booty.

  “You’re wearing a thong,” he said, and the heady beat of my heart pushed into the out-of-control range.

  Playing up my seductive vixen side, I tugged my skirt a few inches higher and added a pinch of ditzy to my voice. “Am I?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and, in a daze, he reached out and brushed his fingertips across the tiny triangle of fabric. Pure, physical need shivered up my core and moisture pooled between my thighs.

  This was worth any risk sneaking in might bring. It was just the two of us, standing on the verge of freefalling into a whole lot more.

  His palm flattened against one of my cheeks. He hooked the hem of my skirt with his thumb and then slowly dragged up, up, up, until he fisted the wad of fabric at my waist. His warm breath hit my neck, followed closely by his soft lips, and when I melted against him, his arousal lined up perfectly with the seam of my ass.

  “Need help taking that off me?” I asked, or more like breathed. “I can’t skinny dip with my dress on, you know.”

  “I need…” His forehead dropped against the back of my head. “You.”

  Every nerve ending fired at once, each cell in my body soaring up to celebrate this moment that’d been a long time coming. Now that it was here, I found myself slightly nervous and a lot turned on.

  With shaky fingers, I reached up to the side of my dress, gripped the zipper, and tugged until the fabric folded down around my waist. Cool night air hit my skin, but with my internal temperature set to scorching, it hardly mattered.

  One slow inch at a time, I pivoted to face Evan. His eyes dipped down, taking in my strapless pink bra, and the carnal gleam in his eye robbed me of what little oxygen I had left. I gripped the sides of the dress and shimmied it the rest of the way down, until it fell in a silky puddle at my feet.

  After what s
eemed like an eternity, but was probably only a couple of seconds, I licked my lips. “Are you gonna say anything?”

  “Words… they’re…” He swallowed, hard, as his eyes continued to roam over my body. “You’re the one with all the words.”

  None that seemed adequate, and my heart was seriously going to beat its way out of its cage. “I don’t want to be greedy with them. I’ll let you have a few.”

  The slightest hint of a smile ghosted across his lips and he took a step closer. “Damn. That pretty much encompasses what I’m thinking.”

  I grinned, my nerves making it wobbly.

  Evan reached out and dragged a knuckle down the center of my chest, between my breasts, over my bellybutton. Lower, lower, lower…

  An involuntary whimper came out when he skirted it across the tiny waistband of my thong. The smug twist of his mouth told me he knew exactly how revved up I was.

  Two could play at that game. I pushed his suit coat off his shoulders, binding his arms. My chest bumped his as I pressed an open-mouth kiss on his neck. He jerked, trying to reach for me, which only tightened the fabric restraints at his elbows.

  A growl emanated from his throat as he tugged free, flinging his suit coat aside.

  The predatory gleam in his eye sent bursts of heat through my veins. I took a step back and he took a step toward me. When he reached for me, I batted his hand away, denying the touch I desperately needed. “You have to catch up first,” I said, even as my body protested, the ache between my thighs going from dull throb to all-encompassing. “No touching until you’re at least shirtless.”

  With laser focus, he watched me undo his tie and each button on his shirt. He gave a relieved yet tortured sigh as I parted the fabric and slipped my hands inside, eager to get my fingers on all those tempting muscles and tantalizing skin. I skimmed my hands up his taught abdomen to his firm pecs, taking my time to memorize the feel of them, of that line of his collarbone. Of the tick in his jaw that spoke to how hard he was struggling to hold himself back. Of him.