So needed.
This isn’t just sex. This is fucking.
And it’s exactly what I needed from Jason tonight.
I needed love, too, but he’s always given me that. He’s always made me feel loved and protected.
This, thought? I really fucking needed this from him.
“You feel really good,” Jason groans, kissing my chin and neck. “Your pussy is perfect. You want me to cum in there?”
His words send a damn shock through my spine. I’ve never let a guy do that before, and it makes me nervous. It makes me feel vulnerable. And it’s a huge turn-on.
“Yes,” I reply as he catches my lips with his. Those pouty, perfect lips that I fantasized about so many times. He pulls his cock out of me and I feel myself close up where he should be as he moves down my body once again.
He stops at one of my nipples, flicking his tongue against me, making me squirm in sweet agony. The fire inside my body radiates along my skin and makes my clit hard as my pussy grows wetter, a damn waterfall flowing from me.
Jason pushes two fingers into me, moving down my body again, making a trail of kisses along my belly, stopping just above my clit.
“Don’t stop,” I groan, pushing my hips up slightly.
He smirks up at me and laughs, spreading my lips open with two fingers, finding my clit with his tongue. Slowly he glides his tongue along my slit, driving me crazy and nearly making me cum instantly.
“Shit,” I groan as his fingers tease my opening without pushing into me.
“You like this,” he growls, sucking my clit into his mouth and pushing his fingers deep inside me.
He is like a fucking expert at knowing exactly what I want and like. He flicks his tongue wildly against my clit, making my hips rise and buck softly against his fingers as he begins fucking me with them softly and slowly.
“Please put your cock in me,” I beg, unable to take this teasing.
“You don’t like this?” he says, replacing his tongue with his thumb. “You don’t want my tongue lapping at your pussy all night?”
“No,” I say, “I do, but I want something else.”
“Yeah?” he says, peering up at me. His lips are red and raw from eating me, and his eyes are dreamy and wanting.
And the way he’s looking at me, I suddenly feel as though he might really want this crazy thing between us to last. I don’t know what it is, and it feels almost silly, like I’m that lustsick girl again just wishing something would happen.
“Please,” I say, putting my heels into his back. He smirks up at me and kisses my clit quickly, sending a shockwave up my spine before quickly caging me with both of his big, strong arms and spearing his cock into me.
“I’ll destroy you if you’re not careful,” he growls, pushing into me.
“I don’t want to be careful,” I reply, wrapping my legs tight around his back, “I don’t want to be careful anymore. Not anymore.”
“Baby,” he says, his cock grinding in and out of me, “I’m happy to hear that.”
Jason reaches down between us and finds my swollen clit with one hand, pressing his other against the small of my back.
I don’t want to be careful anymore. Not when it comes to Jason. Not when it comes to anything.
As Jason rubs my clit and slams into me, I feel lost in him, but oh-so-clear at the same time.
“You’re mine, baby,” he groans. I feel the hot crest of an orgasm roll through me, starting between my leg where Jason’s cock is, and spreading like wildfire through my whole body, making me moan his name out into the night.
He empties himself into me, cumming deep and hard inside my pussy, marking me. Making me his, like he said.
And I feel so fucking good, like I could just fall asleep right here in his arms. He kisses my face and holds me close, caressing my head.
“We should go,” I say. I feel like I should care about sand in certain places, but I really don’t anymore.
“I don’t want to go,” Jason says sweetly, “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
But we are in public, after all, and that means we can’t fall asleep.
“I’m tired of being careful,” I say as I feel my eyelids flutter closed.
“I know, baby. You want me to carry to your hotel room?”
“No, I should get up. We really should go.”
“Yeah, we should,” Jason says, kissing my forehead.
But for the moment, neither of us move. We just listen to the rolling of the ocean against the shore and feel the silky night caress our skin.
19
Jason - Five Years Ago
I give my guitar one quick final strum as I hear someone coming onto the back porch. It’s not just anyone, though. It’s Cassie.
I don’t want her to hear me playing. It’s really fucking embarrassing how bad I am. Practice makes perfect, though, but it’s getting harder to keep practicing the more I keep hearing just how far from perfect I am.
“Don’t stop,” Cassie says, closing the screen door behind her. “Pretend I’m not even here.”
I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she sits down on the big white wicker chair next to mine. I can’t pretend she isn’t here.
“How was last night?” I pull my guitar into my lap again but I don’t start playing. I finger the frets but I don’t strum.
“Last night, last night, last night,” Cassie says, trailing off, looking out across her big backyard at the lake that sits behind the small row of houses on our street. “You wanna know the truth?”
“That why I asked,” I say, looking straight ahead.
It’s nighttime, and I haven’t seen her yet since the big dance happened last night. I was at work all day. It’s the end of spring, beginning of summer, and the heat hasn’t fallen yet. It’s a good time for us to work during the day on the new houses we’re erecting. In a few weeks, I’ll only work early in the morning, and I’ll be bumming around town the rest of the time. The heat gets intense here this time of year. But for now, I’m working days.
I expect Cassie had a fabulous time at the dance. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have. Can’t think of one damn reason she wouldn’t have had a fabulous time.
“It...kinda sucked,” she says, drawing one leg up underneath her.
“I highly doubt that,” I say, smirking over at her. “It wasn’t magical?”
My tone says that I know she probably didn’t have a great time. She’s too good for that shit. Prom queen or not, she’s more than that. Not that there’s anything wrong with being prom queen. She deserves it if she wants it. My issue is that this woman doesn’t need the outside validation from her whole graduating class.
She’s too good for that. Too good for needing that outside approval. Because I know that her inner strength is greater than all those fucking accolades that are constantly being heaped on her.
“No,” she says shakily, “definitely not magical.”
“What’s the matter, Cass?” I ask. I place the guitar carefully against the side of my chair and lean forward on my elbows.
“It just wasn’t what I wanted,” she says, looking over at me. “My date sucked, but like I told you before, everyone expected us to go together, so that’s what I had to do.”
My head is saying it’s silly. My head is saying it’s just one night and so-fucking-what if it wasn’t fun? It’s one night of your life. No need to build it up in your head like Cassie has obviously done.
But then...it doesn’t matter, because I don’t want Cassie to hurt, even if it’s over one night that wasn’t fucking perfect.
I want every night of her life to be perfect.
“What did you want, Cass?” I say, standing up and stretching my legs. I don’t know where the hell Mark is, and their parents are out. They’re both always at work events. Her dad does something something with insurance. Or law, maybe. I don’t really remember.
The night is falling over us quickly. I must have been out here for hours. Not much e
lse to do. I guess I was just waiting for Cass this whole time, or something.
I cross the porch and hop down the few steps to the backyard, the sparse grass beneath my feet sinking in slightly. The ground is soft and slightly wet. I kind of want to take my shoes off, feel the blades of grass against my toes.
Looking back at Cassie, I watch a sadness pass over her face.
“What did I want?” she asks softly, her eyebrows rising.
“Don’t answer that,” I say, reaching out for her. She leans forward softly and puts her hand in mine.
I want this girl, and I’ve lied to myself about it. I can’t have her, though. It’s just not something you do. She is my friend’s sister. She’s too good for me. I can’t offer her anything. I have no prospects and no skills, no talent. She’s going to marry a doctor or some shit.
But then I stop myself, because all I want is to take her right here and now.
Would it really be all that much of a fucking tragedy if I pushed her up against the side of her house right now, pushed her skirt up, and did what I wanted? Would it really be all that bad?
Yeah, she’s off-limits.
But fuck that.
“Get over here, Cass,” I say, looking up at her. She looks like a damn angel. An angel I want to corrupt. She is sweet Cassie, and I just want to make her mine.
“I don’t know,” she says, taking a few steps down her porch. She raises an eyebrow and throws a smirk over to me. She says I don’t know, but the look in her eye says she very much knows.
She knows what’s about to happen as well as I do.
We walk out to the pier jutting out a few yards into the lake. A soft fog has descended on the ground around us, and as we wade through it, I feel my heart slamming inside my chest.
“So you had a bad time at the prom,” I say, slipping my fingers through hers. “Big fucking deal. You win the crown?”
“Yeah,” she sighs, “I won the crown. I knew I was going to. It’s stupid though. And you’re right, it doesn’t matter that I had a bad time.”
That’s not what I meant, though. It matters that she had a bad time.
“All I meant was that you’re gonna have bad nights throughout your life. It’s gonna happen. Not everything’s always gonna be perfect.”
We get to the end of the pier and I turn to face her, taking her softly by the shoulders. I watch her throat as she swallows thickly when I touch her. She’s so damn elegant. So damn beautiful.
“Did you dance?” I ask.
“Of course I did,” she says. I slip my hands onto her waist gently and draw her closer to me. She exhales shakily, putting her head on my shoulder. “That’s what you do at a dance. You, you know, dance.”
We begin rocking slowly. There’s no music, but I swear I can hear her heart beating inside her chest. I draw her in even closer. She nuzzles her head closer to my shoulder. I swallow hard.
She’s mine.
Then I hear the back door slam and her brother calls out to us.
“Hey,” he says curtly. “Jason, you almost ready to go?”
That’s right. That’s what I was waiting around for. A party. Another party at some asshole I don’t care about’s house. An anonymous place like all the others, anonymous people like all the others.
“You should go,” Cassie says, smiling up at me. I can’t tell what she wants, though. I can’t tell if she wants me to go or if the fucking last thing she wants is for me to go. “And thanks for that.”
“What, Cass?” I ask.
“For comforting me,” she says. “It was very nice of you.”
Nice was the last thing on my mind.
“Sure thing,” I say coolly.
Is that what she thought this was?
I watch as she walks back to her house, tipping a chin over her shoulder and smiling at me.
Nice. No one’s ever seen me as a nice guy, I don’t think. If she knew my true intentions, she wouldn’t think I was being so nice.
“You ready?” her brother asks from the back porch.
I start after Cassie, but I’m not following her.
I’m walking behind her, but we aren’t going to the same place. And I don’t know if we ever will.
20
Cassie
I am going to rip up this contract. I’m going to hold it by two corners and tear it apart as Jason watches. Because I don’t want this to be fake anymore. I don’t want a contract holding us together.
And he doesn’t, either.
So I take my copy of the contract out of the top drawer of the dresser in my hotel room, where I’m getting ready for tonight - the night of the gala, the big night before we have the actual contest. It’s the night when all of the girls line up and smile brightly and the press is there and we have ourselves on display for everyone before the actual contest, where we basically do everything again.
I carefully fold the contract into quarters and slip it into my beaded handbag as I go over to my closet to pull out the dress I have ready for tonight: a floor-length, beaded silver gown that hugs my curves. It has a low back and a high halter neck and I can’t wear a normal bra with it, which makes me feel a little bit self-conscious, but I’m okay with that because I really do love how I feel in the dress.
And I think Jason is going to like it, too.
I slide it over my head, allowing it to conform to my body as I slip my hands over my waist and hips. Turning around to check out the back view, I feel a smile pull at my lips.
Yeah, this works.
I put the finishing touches on my makeup, gliding on some red lipstick before putting my compact and some gloss into my purse alongside the contract. Checking the time, I realize that I’m a little bit early, but I want this night to start so I make my way into the hall and let the door close softly behind me.
My parents and brother will be here tomorrow for the contest, even though they’ve seen me go through this countless times before. But they like to see me compete. They like to see me win even more, though.
My mom entered me in pageants from a young age. I liked it, but I didn’t really know any better.
I swallow thickly as I start down the hall, the wide corridor dotted with ornate gold light sconces and thick damask wallpaper. This is probably the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed at, though it’s hard to remember all of the places I’ve been and all the walls I’ve seen.
Reflecting on the past few years, I begin to question myself in a way I never really have. Did I continue the pageants into my adult years for their own sake? Did I long to be part of a community of people who were taking a stance on something and showing off the ways in which they are contributing to their own personal growth and the betterment of society? Or did I merely miss the attention and want to continue on the path of least resistance, want something to fill up my time because I didn’t want to push myself out of my comfort zone?
And how much of this was because I knew what I wanted all along, but couldn’t have it, and kept running and chasing some other elusive goal even though it was something that, honestly, I could have taken or left.
How much of this has been to impress Jason all along?
And I suddenly feel awfully silly about it, because I’ve managed to convince myself, over the last five years, that I do it for the thrill of the competition. For going up against a bunch of other talented girls and seeing how much I can push myself to be the best, and the thrill of being among the very best - that feeling that even if I don’t win, I was able to show up and be considered.
I don’t know what’s what anymore.
Jason doesn’t even like this stuff. That’s the ironic part. I mean, over the past few years we’ve kept in touch and he’s asked me questions about how I’m doing in the pageants, but I don’t think he actually appreciates them in the way I do.
Maybe he just pretends to be interested because I like them.
I’m still early, but as I get to Jason’s door, I turn to it and knock twice, exhaling deeply, letting the q
uestions grinding through my mind roll off my shoulders like a wave.
I have that contract in my purse, and my hand instinctively goes there, where it’s hanging at my hip. I thought this would never work. I thought this was a crazy idea. I thought Jason Anderson would break my heart, because I believed everything I was told.
The door in front of me opens and Jason appears, sexy as ever.
“Hey baby,” he says, wrapping his arm low around my waist and pulling me toward him. His eyes find mine and my fingers go to his chest, my breath taken away by him.
He smells great, like fresh soap and newly-cut grass. It reminds me of something that hasn’t happened yet, if that makes any damn sense at all. It makes me excited for the future. It makes me fall against him, resting my cheek on his chest as his lips find the line where my hair starts.
“Be careful,” he says, “you don’t want to mess up your makeup.”
“Screw that,” I say, wrapping my arms around him.
“It’s nice to see you at my door,” he says, “too bad we have this party to go to, huh?”
“Why?” I ask, my gaze drifting upward to his.
He puts his hand on my ass and pulls me closer to him, squeezing my flesh through my gown and making me feel dizzy with desire.
“There’s more interesting things I wanna do with you,” he rumbles.
“Right,” I breathe, “too bad.”
“Remember when I told you to drop out of the pageant?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I reply.
His lips move closer to mine with every little second that passes. But it feels like a damn eternity here with him.
“What if you’d just dropped out when I’d asked you to?” he says, brushing his lips against mine. I still feel like I’m dreaming. I don’t know if the reality of this has fully sunken in yet.
“Then we wouldn’t have had to pretend to be together,” I say, smiling up at him as he pulls away slightly.
“I think we both know this isn’t pretend.”
There it is - like a bolt of lightning cracking through my chest, I feel energized, alive, and more than a little bit scared.
Second Chance Bride: A Fake Fiancee Romance Page 12