“I don’t need all that. This is for Maisie.”
I shifted so I could look at her. “Is this hard for you?”
She shrugged. “I’m uncomfortable about lying, especially to my family. But spending time with Maisie, that isn’t hard.”
“What about with me?” It was weird how much it was important to me that she enjoyed being around me too. I didn’t want this to be repulsive to her.
“That isn’t hard either.”
I moved so that I faced her, pressing my hand to her cheek like a man would if he were in love. “I know this is awkward, and I’m sorry for that. I don’t want to make you feel that way, but if this is to work, people need to believe it’s real.”
She nodded. “It’s okay.” She put her hand on my chest. I flashed back to when she’d done that the night I took her on the couch. For a moment, I wondered if maybe we could include sex in our little farce, but immediately I shook that off. It wouldn’t be fair to her to ask.
Still, we were in public. “If this was real, I’d kiss you.”
Her breath hitched. “If it was real, I’d let you.”
I leaned forward, and gently brushed my lips across hers. Like the first time, her sweet taste filled my senses, and a rush of happy endorphins flooded my blood stream. If only it was real, I thought.
That night after we put Maisie to bed, Tessa and I hashed out our plan in greater detail. Our story would be that we were seeing each other on the downlow, but that I’d asked her to marry me a few weeks back. We hadn’t announced it because we’d been distracted by Veronica’s return. We’d planned a large wedding, but decided to speed things up and have a small ceremony in the back yard. We’d honeymoon in New York City the weekend Maisie was to spend with her mother again. Although the petty angry part of me wanted to end visits, I knew that would look bad, and in this case, it would support my scheme to make the world think this marriage was real.
On the one hand, it felt deceptive and it bothered me to have Tessa lying. But on the other, spending time with her wasn’t a hardship. She was wonderful with Maisie, which was the most important to me. When it was just us, and we weren’t thinking about fake marriages, we were our old selves, talking and joking. One night I was so into our ruse that I kissed her as she headed out the door to head home.
“Is someone watching?” she asked as she looked over to her house and down the walk to the street.
There hadn’t been. Or at least I hadn’t seen anyone. The truth was I kissed her because I wanted to. If I was honest with myself, I’d wanted to ever since the night she gave me her virginity. Hell, even before that if my morning jerk offs in the shower were an indication.
“You never know,” I said, not wanting her to know I was acting on impulse. This was supposed to be fake, and I didn’t want to muck it up by muddying the waters.
On the day of the wedding, my backyard was filled with people who worked for me at the gym and a few friends. I had no family to speak of except Maisie, who looked adorable in her pretty pink dress.
Tessa’s parents were there. They were good people, which heightened my guilt at our deception. I promised myself that no matter what, I’d treat Tessa well. Her father was a cop and he’d have every right to shoot me if I hurt her. Her roommates, Maisie’s teacher, and a few of her classmates were there as well. For a fake wedding, it was fairly well attended, and everyone seemed genuinely happy, albeit surprised by our relationship.
I stood near a makeshift arbor and looked toward the back door as Tessa appeared and the real ruse began. Jesus, she was beautiful. She wore a simple ivory dress that made her skin look like peaches and cream. Her hair was pulled up in a loose twist with soft tendrils of her red locks blowing naturally. She looked so real compared to Veronica, and I hated that this had to be fake. She deserved so much more.
“I got the ring, daddy,” Maisie said to me holding up the little pillow as she reached me just before Tessa did.
“You do, baby. Thank you.” I didn’t deserve her either, I realized. What sort of father would engage in this behavior?
Tessa smiled, but I could see in her eyes she was wondering what the hell she was doing as well. I took her hand and squeezed it, hoping it reassured her.
As the minister went through the ceremony, I felt even worse. I was making vows I didn’t intend to keep. Why God hadn’t struck me dead I didn’t know.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Already? I looked at Tessa, hoping to hell I wasn’t ruining her life. She was so young and sweet. I was an asshole for putting her through this. I couldn’t promise to love her forever, but I did make a vow right then to be good to her. To make sure this didn’t hurt her.
I smiled, and was pleased when she smiled back. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to hers, and then trailing them along her cheek until I reached her ear. “I won’t hurt you, Tessa. I promise.”
We had a small reception, and then we were packed into the car and heading to New York City to drop Maisie off with Veronica, while Tessa and I were to go on our honeymoon. I wasn’t going to touch her. This marriage would never be consummated. But it had to look real, so I booked us a suite in a luxury hotel, and ordered champagne to be waiting.
I enjoyed Tessa’s company, so having a day touring New York sights wasn’t going to be weird. But the night-time arrangements could be. I got us a room that had a hideaway bed in case she was uncomfortable, although she’d have to get used to sharing a room with me once we got home. This wouldn’t work if Maisie told people we slept in different rooms. Even so, I was going to do whatever Tessa needed to feel safe and comfortable.
I opened the door to the lavish suite and watched her as she took in the setting.
“Wow, Dylan … this is …” Her eyes scanned everything from the large windows overlooking New York City to the flowers filling the room with a sweet scent, although not as sweet as hers. “So much. Too much. I get why we need to pretend to have a honeymoon, but no one is going to see us, right? We don’t need all this.”
“Have you ever stayed in a place like this? Been pampered? Had food from a world-renowned chef? Drank expensive champagne?” I took off my coat and tossed it on a chair as I made my way to the champagne.
“No.”
“Is it something you’d like to try?”
She bit her lip as her eyes gleamed. “Well, sure, but—”
“I owe you this. I know this is awkward and difficult. I don’t like the deception much either. This is something I can do to make it fun. We may not have a real honeymoon, but we’re friends, right?”
I hoped I hadn’t fucked that up with this nutty scheme.
“Yes, of course.”
“Then let’s be two friends who live it up in New York for a night.” I popped the cork on the champagne. “If the hotel did what I asked, there are a couple more bottles in the fridge.”
“It must be costing you a fortune.” She approached me, and I felt relieved that she was accepting this.
“I have money. A lot of it, actually. Maybe not like Papa Leo—”
“Oh God, don’t even say that name.” She made a distasteful face.
I smiled because it felt so fucking good to have someone who understood how hard it was to hear Maisie call another man papa. “The point is, I have the money.”
“Even for my school? Because I was thinking that maybe it would be better if I took the year off and was an at-home stepmom. It would help your case—”
Emotion washed through me at her words. That she’d be willing to put her dream aside for me. “You’re amazing, Tessa.”
She shrugged. “It was going to be hard to afford anyway. I’d already accepted that I wouldn’t be able to finish.”
“But you will finish. I have the money. More than enough. Please, let me do that for you. Maisie will be in school when you are, so it won’t be any different than this year.”
“It feels like too much to ask.”
I laughed as I handed her a flute of c
hampagne. “You’re kidding right? I asked you to give up your home to marry me just so I’d improve my case for custody. You’ve given way more than me.”
She looked down into the glass of champagne. “It doesn’t feel like more.”
I watched her for a moment, wondering what she meant. How could it not feel like she’d given so much when she’d basically signed up to a fake marriage with a man who’d taken her virginity so carelessly?
“Trust me, Tessa. If this works, you’ll have saved my life. Maisie is everything.”
She smiled and held her glass up. “To Maisie.”
“To Maisie,” I clicked my glass with hers, and watched her drink the golden bubbly.
Her nose wriggled and her eyes glittered. “Wow, that’s really good.” She reached up and pulled a hair clip from her head and her hair fell around her shoulders. In an instant, I was filled with need and desire to run my fingers through it. A part of me wished we could include the more intimate bits of marriage in this situation, but that was asking too much. I couldn’t touch her when I knew I couldn’t give her what she needed emotionally. Instead, I downed my champagne and poured more. Hopefully it would cool my jets and we’d get through the honeymoon still as friends.
15
Tessa
I wasn’t a woman who needed a champagne life, as it appeared Veronica was. But I couldn’t deny this honeymoon, fake as it was, was nice. The food Dylan had brought up through room service was the best I could remember ever tasting. The champagne was amazing. The room was lush and rich-looking. The view of the city with the lights twinkling was beautiful. Growing up in Brooklyn, I’d spent plenty of time in Manhattan, but never in the lap of luxury.
I’d known Dylan had money, but I hadn’t thought he had money like this. Or that he’d spend it. I wouldn’t say he was a miser, but he was frugal. I suspected Maisie’s college education was already fully-funded. I hoped he wasn’t tapping into that to help me.
“You okay?” Dylan asked me. We’d moved the couch over to the window, turned the lights off in the room, and then looked over the city lights.
“You keep asking how I am,” I said, finishing the last bit of champagne from my third … or was it fourth glass? I was feeling the buzz, but felt completely in control. It was the level of tipsy where I felt warm and content, but not silly.
“This is a lot to ask, and I know it’s a bit awkward,” he replied with the same reasoning he’d been using all night. It was a bit awkward, but I was beginning to think he was projecting his own feelings on me. I wasn’t that weirded out, but maybe he was.
Maybe he was worried I’d tell him I liked him again. “Would it have been less awkward if we hadn’t slept together? I mean, I know it wasn’t that good for you and maybe you’re worried now—” Okay, so maybe I’d had enough champagne to loosen my tongue more than I should, but if our sexual encounter was what was making this weird, we might as well talk and get it out of the way.
He gaped at me. “What are talking about? Not good? I came, Tessa. I came pretty hard.”
I wanted to be proud of that, but let’s face it, it didn’t take men much to get hard and have an orgasm. At least, that’s the way Corrine said it was.
“That’s nature. I mean the rest of it. I didn’t do much. I just laid there. I would have done more, but … well, I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“You did just fine.” He shifted, downing the rest of his champagne.
“I didn’t do anything.” I stared at my empty glass, wanting more but wondering if that would be one too many.
“Clearly I didn’t need you to.”
I set my glass on the coffee table. “That’s the only thing I regret. If I could do it over, I’d have done something.”
He was silent for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was husky. “Do you want to do it over?”
I looked at him and thought I saw that same heat of desire in his eyes as I saw that night. As much as I did want to do it again, the events of the last time were still fresh in my mind, even with the haze of champagne. He didn’t love me. And he clearly was wanting to keep the boundaries between us. He was right to do so. To be honest, sometimes it was hard to not to sink into his kiss or believe the touches he gave me in public weren’t real. If we included marital relations, I’d probably lose all perspective.
This marriage needed to look real from the outside for sure. The court needed to believe it, as did everyone in our lives. That part had been hard. My parents were shocked and then hurt that I hadn’t told them I’d been seeing Dylan on a personal level. Corrine and Allison both told me they thought he was just using me to get a mom for Maisie.
“Wives are cheaper than babysitters,” Corrine said.
I wanted to tell them all they were wrong, except they weren’t. I needed to show the world that Dylan and I were in love and happily married, even though we weren’t. Or he wasn’t. I’d fallen for him long ago.
“You don’t have to try so hard,” I said, now wishing I had more champagne to numb my silly, school-girl feelings for him.
“At what?”
“We’re married and I’m going to go through with this. You don’t have to be nice just to make sure I don’t change my mind.”
He frowned. “I’m being nice because I’m nice.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you are. But sometimes people say nice things they don’t really mean just to be nice.”
He shook his head like he couldn’t quite follow what I’d said. “What have I said that I don’t mean?”
“That I did fine that night we hooked up. That you came hard.”
“I’m not saying that just to be nice. It’s true.”
I looked down, feeling silly. Like I was fishing for compliments.
“Did you like it?” he asked, sounding a little annoyed.
“You know I did.” I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“How would I know that? It’s harder for men to tell a woman has come than for a woman to know a man has. We make a mess.”
I glared at him. “You know.”
He stared at me with intense eyes that made my breath catch. “I do know. You know how?”
I gave a quick shake of my head as my voice was gone with my breath.
“Because when you came, your tight pussy took me with you, and it was fucking fantastic.” His jaw tensed and he looked away. He grabbed the champagne bottle, emptying it into our two glasses.
“Now you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad. I’m frustrated.” He handed me a glass.
“Why?”
“Because, Tessa, I want to respect you and honor what you’re doing for me, but I also want to fuck you so bad, I might just whip my dick out and masturbate right here.” He downed his glass of champagne.
The shock at his words had me gaping. Maybe it was the champagne. Maybe it was the potent man next to me. Whatever it was, I couldn’t stop from asking, “Can I watch?”
This time his eyes widened in surprise. “You want to watch me jerk off?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t think—”
“I want you to show me how to jerk you off.”
“Fuck, Tessa.” He gave a frustrated growl.
“I’m sorry, did I—”
He let out a breath. “I’m truly thankful for what you’re doing for me, but—”
He didn’t have to finish for me to realize I’d humiliated myself again. “Never mind. It’s just the booze.”
“You deserve better than me. You deserve more than I can give you, Tessa. It’s important to me that I don’t fuck this up—”
“I know Maisie is important––”
“Not just Maisie, but my friendship with you. I don’t want to hurt you and have you think all men are inaccessible assholes.”
I stood and went to the window, but didn’t see the city lights anymore. All I could see was the reflection of my idiot face.
“I don’t like you assuming what I think or making decisi
ons for me,” I managed to say.
He was quiet and I wondered if he was just going to give up and leave.
“Fine. You want to watch me get off?”
He was messing with me now, which made me feel even more stupid, until I heard his belt buckle clank. I turned, and saw him standing as he undid his pants, dropping them to the floor. His dick sprang out long and hard and so beautiful.
He ran his hand along the length. “You did that, Tessa. Just like you do just about every fucking morning of my life since I met you.” His words were terse, and his hand movement on his dick was jerky.
I remembered how he said he imagined me sucking his dick when he’d masturbate. I had no idea how to do that, but oh God, did I want to learn.
Tentatively I walked toward him. His eyes were dark and intense as they watched me. When I reached him, I sank to my knees, until my mouth was a whisper away from his dick.
“Ah fuck, Tessa …”
“Tell me what to do.”
He cupped my chin in his hand turning my face up to look at him. “You don’t have to do this. Shouldn’t do this.”
I pulled my head away and sat back on my heels, hating how he always pushed me away. “Stop putting this on me. I might not be experienced, but I know my own feelings and desires.” I stood. “If you don’t want this, just say so instead of acting like you’re protecting me. It’s insulting.”
I started to walk away, not sure where I’d go. His hand took my arm to stop me. “I do want this. It should be obvious,” he said with a nod toward his dick.
“It wants this, you don’t. And look, Dylan, it’s okay. I get it. You’re focused on Maisie, so you probably haven’t had a lot of time for liaisons and the ones you’ve had have been with Veronica.”
His eyes darkened.
“I know I’m not her—”
“What the hell does that mean?” he reached down and pulled up his pants.
“It means I’m not Veronica. I’m not as beautiful or sexy—”
So Wrong (Heart 0f Hope Book 3) Page 10