Husband For Hire

by Caitlin Daire

  She brushed her hand ever so slightly over the right leg of my pants. I pulled back. “No, thanks. Where’s your husband?”

  She drew her hand back, obviously offended by my immediate rejection. “Probably hitting on that bartender in the other room,” she said with a sniff. “That’s why we’re here, you know. He can’t seem to stop cheating on me.”

  My eyebrows furrowed together, and I almost felt a little bad for preemptively judging her on the boat earlier. I’d assumed that infidelity was the cause for her and Jay being here, and I was correct about that, but I’d also assumed she was the one who cheated, not him.

  “Vanessa, I’m sorry to hear that, but if you really want to fix your marital issues, then trying to make Jay feel bad by flirting with every man in sight isn’t gonna help.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know about that. I kinda think I deserve a bit of revenge.”

  “Well, you aren’t gonna get any help with that revenge plan from me,” I said, avoiding eye contact with her. Indi was looking over at me now with a frown, and I didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in her eyes as she saw who I was talking to.

  Nice. She was jealous.

  I gave her a wink, and she abruptly turned away, her cheeks turning scarlet. She purposefully didn’t look at me for the next ten minutes or so, even when Dean and Mike returned and steered me right by her little group to get some more beers.

  Her embarrassment at being caught jealously looking over at me earlier could only mean one thing: she cared.

  Oh, yeah, I definitely had a chance with her now.

  All I had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

  Chapter Eleven

  Indi

  At eleven o’clock, we were finally allowed to stop filming and head to our rooms. Blake and I were on the ground floor, and I peered around at the bedroom as we headed inside. It was huge, with a big four-poster bed in the center, a large walk-in closet to the right, a bathroom to the left, and a wall-length window with soft white curtains on the edge. When I stepped closer, I saw that the window was actually a set of French doors which opened onto a terrace outside.

  Beyond the bed and before the bathroom, there was a cream tufted sofa and a small coffee table. Our suitcases had been left by the coffee table by the staff, and Blake immediately began to unpack everything in his.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I undid my hair and left the bobby pins on the table. “It’s late. We can just unpack all our clothes in the morning. They won’t get too wrinkled from sitting in the case for ages.”

  “It’s not my clothes I’m worried about,” Blake said, reaching farther into his case and digging around. “Ah, here it is. Right where I hid it.”

  He pulled out a white iPad with a flourish, and my mouth dropped open. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “A tablet? Yes, yes it is,” he said with a smirk.

  “You know we aren’t allowed cell phones or computers while we’re on the show,” I said. “It’s against the rules. They were all listed on the paperwork they sent to prepare us before we came here. Did you even read them?”

  He nodded. “I did. But I thought you wanted to win this thing,” he replied. He held up the iPad. “I already know the Wi-Fi password for this place. Got it from the bartender earlier. So we can get online and research all the other contestants on this. Find stuff that we could use to help us win.”

  I shook my head. “No. That’s so unethical, Blake.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  I folded my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what it means. You and I are lying about being married to be on this show. So who cares about a little opposition research?”

  I pursed my lips. Okay, fine, he had a point. But still, just because we cheated our way onto the show didn’t mean I wanted to cheat my way throughout the show as well. I wasn’t that amoral. I made this clear to Blake in no uncertain terms over the next few minutes.

  “I want to win this fair and square. That means no internet,” I said to end my little rant. “Okay?”

  He sighed and nodded, stashing the iPad away. “Whatever you say, princess.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Sorry. I’ll go back to calling you wifey instead.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” My eyes traveled over to the bed, and they widened as something occurred to me. It should’ve long before now, but I’d been too caught up with worrying about everything else to even think about it.

  Blake’s eyes followed my gaze. “Just one bed,” he mused, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “After all, we’re married. Why would we need anything more?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Great.”

  “Back to being Little Miss Grumpy, I see.”

  “Shut it.”

  I stalked over to the walk-in closet and hunted around in the shelves for some spare blankets. Then I went back out and began to set up a makeshift bed on the floor, seeing as the cream sofa was too small for anyone to sleep on comfortably.

  “Don’t worry,” I said as I went. “You can have the bed. I’m fine with this floor-bed.”

  Blake watched me, mirth still glimmering in his eyes. Those damn pretty eyes. “I’ll have the floor,” he said. “You take the bed.”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to be one of those women who makes the guy do that. I’m fine.”

  “You were sick earlier today on the boat, so a good night’s rest in a comfy bed will work wonders,” Blake insisted. “Besides, it’s fine. I’m used to sleeping rough.”

  My face softened at his words. Used to sleeping rough? Just how bad had his financial situation gotten over the years since he left Lakewater and moved to the big city? Had he actually been homeless at one point, or moved from house to house, sleeping on friends’ couches?

  “Really, Blake. I’m okay,” I said, hoping my tone sounded a little nicer now.

  “I insist,” he replied. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. He seemed quite serious about refusing to take no for an answer. Finally I sighed. “Fine. I’ll take the bed. But tomorrow you get to have it. We’ll alternate each night, okay? That way it’s fair.”

  Blake held up an imaginary glass. “To fairness,” he said, pretending to toast me.

  I smiled. “Right. I’m going to have a bath. My muscles are all aching after such a long day.”

  “I’ll join you in a minute. Should we light some candles and sprinkle some rose petals while we’re in there? Maybe order some wine from room service?”

  “Hardy-har-har,” I said. “I’m locking the door, so don’t even think about it.”

  He smiled. “You might be able to lock me out, but you can’t make me stop thinking about it.”

  I rolled my eyes and didn’t reply. After heading into the bathroom, I ran a hot bath in the big old-fashioned claw-footed tub. There was some bubble bath liquid in the little bathroom cupboard, and I poured a decent amount in before stripping my clothes off and settling under the warm water and white foam. Ah, this was perfect. Exactly what I needed after the long, long day I’d just had.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, letting out a happy sigh as I felt every inch of me relax into the calming warmth. Well, almost every inch. My brain was still going at a million miles an hour, trying to process all my feelings toward Blake. Earlier this evening, I saw Vanessa clearly hitting on him during the after-dinner drinks, and rage immediately rose up inside me like a fiery dragon. I hadn’t been able to stop myself from glaring, and then to my complete and utter embarrassment, Blake saw me doing it. He knew. He totally knew.

  Ugh.

  I didn’t want him to know how damn attractive I found him. If we hooked up, that would only complicate things further, and everything was already pretty damn complicated with the show and all its goings-on.

  Besides, I still wasn’t entirely sure if I even liked
Blake as a person overall. He’d been good to me in the last day, apart from the silly jokes, but that didn’t change the fact that I honestly barely knew him. Even back in Lakewater, I’d barely known him. There was still so much about him that I wasn’t aware of, so much I hadn’t asked yet.

  No, I couldn’t hook up with him, no matter how hot he was. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t fantasize about it…and where better to do it than a bubble bath?

  My right hand traveled down my legs, gently stroking my inner thighs, making my way down to my core. The bubble bath was making my skin slippery-smooth and soft, and I sighed as little tingles shot up my spine from the mere touch of my fingertips alone. I pictured my hand as Blake’s instead, softly touching me and moving ever-closer to where I wanted him the most.

  When my fingers reached where I wanted them to be, I parted my folds and gently pressed on my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I moaned, a mix of pleasure and guilt over doing this with Blake only a few feet away in the next room. My thighs began to tremble beneath the water, and I rubbed harder between my legs before sliding my left hand down as well.

  I bit my lip as I slid a finger inside myself. I was so hot, so wet, and it wasn’t just from the water. In fact, bathwater usually dried me right up down there, even though that sounded counterintuitive. I was sure there was some sort of scientific reason for that happening, but it wasn’t happening now. No, sir. I was slick and ready to go.

  So fucking ready.

  I kept on rubbing and moaning. Every time I moved, the water splashed around me, sending little droplets onto the side of the bath. Drip, drip, drip.

  I was so caught up within my building pleasure that I didn’t realize the dripping sound wasn’t actually coming from the splashing water in the tub until I heard it another four or five times. No, something else in the room was dripping. It wasn’t the basin tap on the other side of the bathroom; I saw it earlier when I was hunting through the bathroom cupboard beneath it, and it was definitely dry.

  Drip, drip, drip. I heard the sound again, clearer this time, and I stopped what I was doing with my hands and sat up, my eyes flying open. I looked up.

  And then I screamed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Blake

  Kicking my legs up on the bed, I sat back with a brand new management book I’d brought along in my suitcase to read when I had time. Seeing as I’d never had much in the way of a formal education, I’d probably bought and read every single business book in existence. All those years of research had paid off, but I knew that work would always keep me on my toes, so whenever I had time, I read more and more. Anything I could get my hands on.

  “Aaaargh!”

  A piercing scream suddenly rang out, and I leapt up and dashed over to the bathroom door. “Indi? Are you okay?” I asked, immediately terrified that she’d fallen and cracked her head open. “Indi, open up!”

  I heard another scream, followed by soft groans and sobs, and I reached for the doorknob. As promised earlier, Indi had locked the door.

  Cursing, I dashed back through the room and grabbed one of her hair pins from the coffee table. Many years ago, I was a wayward teen, and I’d picked up a few tricks back then. I bent the pin so that it was a long, thick, almost-straight wire, and then I slid one end into the lock. I jiggled it around for a few seconds before hearing a satisfying click. Then I threw the door open.

  Indi was standing in the middle of the bathroom, shivering from a mixture of cold and fear. She was dripping wet and naked.

  Very naked.

  My eyes coasted over every inch of her body, drinking her in. I couldn’t help it. I was a man, after all, and holy shit, I wanted to bend her over that bathtub and fuck her brains out. Her skin was golden-tanned and shining from the droplets of water on it, and her breasts had a perfect natural shape that made me want to lower my mouth to her nipples and bite and suck. The rest of her had just the right amount of curve; just enough to make me want to grab her and hold on while I….

  I lost my train of thought as I saw some droplets of blood on her legs and feet. There were also some splattered droplets on the edge of the bath. Forgetting all about her nakedness, I grabbed her gently by the shoulders. “Indi, are you hurt?”

  She was still shaking like a leaf. “No…not…not hurt,” she said, her voice trembling. She gulped. “It’s not my blood. Either someone just got murdered on the floor above us, or this place is haunted!”

  “Haunted?”

  “Look, Blake! There’s blood coming out of the goddamn ceiling! It’s like the Amityville Horror up in here!”

  I followed her gaze to the ceiling. Like she said, there was something that appeared to be blood dripping from the ceiling into the bath.

  I let go of Indi and leaned down, picking up a little bit of the blood from the edge of the bath with my index finger. I gave it a sniff. It certainly had an iron-like scent to it, just like blood usually did. But you know what else smells like iron?

  Iron itself.

  I grabbed a towel and put it over the edge of the bath so that it wouldn’t be slippery, and then I hoisted myself onto that edge, being careful to stay balanced.

  “What are you doing?” Indi asked.

  “Just give me a second,” I replied. Up on the edge of the bath like this, I was almost tall enough to reach the high ceiling. If I stretched my arms up, I definitely could.

  I reached up with my left hand and touched it firmly to the ceiling to keep me steady, and then I reached my right hand up to the red part where the blood seemed to be dripping from. I pressed into the area around it, and then I tapped it a few times, frowning as I waited to hear the sound I expected. After feeling around and tapping a bit more, I felt something much harder under my fingers than the rest of the ceiling around that area, which was actually quite soft. I tapped harder, and I heard an echoing clang.

  “Just as I thought,” I said. “It’s not blood, Indi. It only looks like blood.”

  I got down, and Indi looked at me, her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Buildings like this have really old pipes. I bet a whole bunch of them are still the original fittings that got put in decades and decades ago. Sometimes they get holes in them as they corrode over time. Water can leak down through the little holes and make soft spots in the ceiling. Sometimes it even breaks through. That’s what’s dripping into the bath. Water.”

  “Why is it red?”

  “Iron. Old pipes used to be made from that. I guess when they corrode, it all oxidizes, and that makes it look red and have that metallic scent to it, just like blood.”

  Her face turned pink. “Oh. Wow, I feel pretty stupid now.”

  “Don’t feel stupid. I’d be freaked out if I was having a bath and looked up to see that. Should we ask to move to another room?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “No. That guy in the bar earlier mentioned there’s been barely any tourists around here for years. Maybe the inn owners haven’t been able to afford proper upkeep because of that. I don’t want to be a bitch and make them give us a new room at this time of night.”

  “You sure?”

  She nodded. “The shower looks fine. I just won’t have any more baths. Besides, I’m probably just a bit spooked right now because of that massacre stuff I heard earlier.”

  I nodded, admiring her attitude now that she was calming down. It was sympathetic and caring toward the inn owners, despite her usually-tough and ambitious exterior. She was still the same nice girl she always was, only even better now, because she was stronger. It also didn’t hurt that she was still standing here buck-naked. I could damn well admire that too. She was so fucking hot that it physically hurt me not to take her in my arms right this second; I was that turned on by her gorgeous figure.

  Indi seemed to remember her nakedness at the same time as I did and immediately moved to cover herself, one hand going to her neatly-trimmed mound and the other to her breasts, trying and failing to cover them both. “Shit!�
�� she yelped. “Can you pass me a towel? And stop looking!”

  “Don’t worry, I wasn’t looking,” I replied.

  I turned and grabbed another spare towel and handed it to her, my lips curling up in a smile as she wrapped it around herself.

  Yeah, I lied.

  I was looking.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Blake

  I wrapped a towel around my hips and sauntered over to the bathroom door, hoping Indi would spot me shirtless when she came out of the walk-in closet, where she was currently getting changed. Maybe seeing my bare chest would be the catalyst for her finally admitting how badly she wanted me. I knew it was true, but I didn’t want to act on it until she told me to my face, because it was no fun letting her have the upper hand all the time. I wanted her on her knees, begging and pleading for me to take her to bed and fuck her senseless.

  It was going to happen eventually, and there was still plenty of time to wait. It was only our fourth day here on Fremantle Island, and provided things went well, we’d be here for several weeks yet. Until she caved, I could easily ignore the raging boner I got whenever I looked at her.

  At least that’s what I was telling myself for now.

  Indi and I were alternating the bed at night, true to her word, and things seemed to be going swimmingly. On our second day here, we’d been allowed to rest or wander the grounds of the inn to get a feel for the place. There hadn’t been any filming, because from what I recalled, the crew had been editing and splicing together all the footage they got the day beforehand in order to create Episode One.

  Yesterday—the third day—had been quite… different. I still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. One of the crew members was apparently a relationship therapist hired by the showrunners, and she’d taken us all for a filmed group therapy session. That sounded well and good, except for the fact that she hadn’t actually addressed any of our marriage issues at all.