Pretend We're Over

by Ella Miles

  “The worst is over. It’s mostly flat from here on out.”

  “It’s not the incline that’s getting to me; it’s the heat. And the fact that I hardly ever work out.”

  Sebastian stretches his arms over his head until the T-shirt he’s wearing rides up. He’s not sweating at all, and I haven’t heard him breathe hard once. This is a leisurely stroll for him.

  “Why not?”

  I shrug. “I’m not a gym rat. And I don’t usually have time to explore the outdoors like this and get exercise that way.”

  “You should really try working out—“

  I put my hand up. “I’m going to stop you right there. I agree. I don’t need a lecture from a guy who has the body of Greek god.”

  “Actually, I prefer a Roman god; they were more ripped.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Why can’t I remember that one night? Maybe if I had the memory, I wouldn’t want him so badly. Maybe he’s terrible in bed. Who am I kidding? He’s probably incredible in bed. If I remembered, I’d only want a repeat, which apparently the Roman god won’t do.

  “I thought you preferred to be called King.”

  “Only when I’m making you come.”

  I sigh. “We really shouldn’t.”

  “Why not? It would be fun.”

  My heart thumps in my chest, but not because I’m out of breath from the hike. “How much fun it would or wouldn’t be isn’t the problem.”

  “Then tell me what you’re worried about, and I can fix it for you.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.” His eyes twinkle with his promise. He truly thinks he can solve any of my reservations around us having sex.

  “If we fuck, are you going to fall in love with me?” he asks.

  “No.” I’m not capable of loving anyone.

  “Are you going to get emotionally attached?”

  I shrug. “I don’t think so.”

  He scrunches his mouth until it’s pursed together as he thinks. “You won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m an ass, you’ve said so yourself. And once we fuck, I’ll pick up my asshole game so you can’t possibly grow attached. Problem solved.”

  “I’d prefer nice, sexless Sebastian to asshole Sebastian who I get to fuck all the time.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s the wrong choice. Being with asshole Sebastian is totally worth the mind-blowing orgasms I could give you.”

  I laugh. “I can give myself mind-blowing orgasms, thank you very much. I just need a friend.”

  His eyebrows raise. “A friend who is fake married to you to protect you from something that you won’t tell me about?”

  I nod. “Exactly.”

  “You should be glad I like you, Mills. I wouldn’t be fake married with no benefits to just anyone.”

  “Mills? You’re giving me a nickname now?”

  “I could go back to calling you Mrs. King.”

  “Nope, I like Mills.”

  He holds out his hand to help me up. Reluctantly, I take it.

  He pulls me up, and our bodies near.

  “How about we make a deal?” he asks, his breath hot against my neck. I like this kind of hotness.

  “I thought we already had a deal and a bet?”

  His eyes darken. “We don’t have an arrangement.”

  I laugh.

  “You finish this hike with me, and I’ll give you a kiss when we reach the top.”

  “I don’t get anything out of that deal.”

  He grabs my hips and jerks me tight to him until our lips are hovering just over each other’s. I stare into his deep eyes, and I’ve never wanted to kiss him more.

  “Are you sure about that? I think you get a romantic kiss overlooking a waterfall in Hawaii on the only honeymoon you may ever take. You get to remember how it feels to be kissed by a man who truly wants you. You get to know how it feels to be desired desperately. And you’ll be reminded that you are a sexual creature who deserves to have the best sex of her life. Then you’ll realize that you do want to be married after all, not because you need a man, but because you deserve to be fucked like a queen every damn day. That’s what you’ll get.”

  I can’t breathe. I can’t respond.

  Sebastian’s eyes flicker over mine, and then he steps back and holds out his hand. I take it gladly. I’ve never wanted a kiss more than I do now. This hike just got a lot longer. Unbearably long.

  “Maybe I can get that kiss now,” I say.

  He turns to me with serious eyes. “No. I’ll kiss you when we make it to the waterfall. A woman like you deserves the best first kiss.”

  “But this won’t be our first kiss.”

  He frowns. “Yes, it will. It’s the only first kiss that matters.”

  17

  Sebastian

  I should’ve kissed her. Right then and there.

  We’ve been hiking for almost two hours since the moment she told me to kiss her, and I refused until we made it to the waterfall.

  Big mistake.

  I’ve been hiking with a hard-on the entire time, not the most comfortable thing in the world.

  But I’m determined to give her the best kiss I can. I want it to be romantic and perfect and magical. I want it to make her believe in love again. Not that she should fall in love with me, but that love and magic can exist. I don’t want her to turn cynical like me.

  Our kiss isn’t going to be magical, that is if we even make it to the waterfall. We were supposed to arrive at the waterfall twenty minutes ago. I’m pretty sure we’re lost, but I won’t tell Millie that.

  When, or if, we ever make it, the kiss is going to be far from perfect. We are both covered in sweat from the incredible heat. Millie has about a dozen mosquito bites because I forgot to pack repellent, and I have a sunburn on my forehead because I didn’t wear a hat.

  Our muscles ache, and even though I still have two bottles of water and a granola bar in my backpack, we are dehydrated and hungry. I didn’t plan this well. I was just focused on getting us to the waterfall, on giving Millie a magical moment.

  Millie deserves it. She deserves the perfect kiss. And dammit, we didn’t come all this way to not let it happen.

  All hope is lost.

  Suddenly, Millie starts singing ‘Heart Attack’ by Demi Lovato. She’s completely out of breath. Her hands rest on her hips as she tries to suck in more oxygen with each step, but it doesn’t stop her from trying to belt out lyrics about not falling in love.

  “For real, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.” Millie folds her arms over her head, her chest rising and falling, panting. Her cheeks are red, her face is dripping sweat, and her hair is a mess, tied back behind her ball cap. There are sweat stains all over her shirt, and her freckled legs have red swollen spots from mosquitos and where she’s gotten too much sun.

  “Maybe you should stop singing then. You sound like a dying horse.”

  “I. Do. Not.” She pants between each word.

  “You. Do. Too.” I pant just like her to prove her point.

  “I think you’re trying to kill me. But I hate to tell you, if you kill me I don’t have any money for you to collect and I don’t have a life insurance policy. So there is nothing to gain by killing me,” Millie teases me.

  I laugh, knowing that Millie is just kidding, but it is a thought that has crossed my mind. A strategy that she might be trying to do to me—marrying me to take half of my money. “I’m not trying to kill you, but you are trying to kill me with that voice of yours.”

  “Well then, you sing. I didn’t bring my phone, and I need music to keep me entertained.”

  “I thought the very thought of kissing me was enough to keep you occupied.” It sure is enough to keep my thoughts off how bad of a plan this was. All I want to do is kiss her. One kiss and I know I can convince her to repeat our one forgotten night.

  “Sing, pretty boy.”

  “I’ll sing, you drink.” I toss her
a water bottle. She catches it and starts drinking.

  I wrack my brain, trying to think of a song. What comes out is ‘Mercy’ by Shawn Mendes. I sing a few bars before I hear Millie chuckling behind me.

  “It wasn’t as bad as your singing,” I say.

  She laughs. “That’s not why I’m laughing.”

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because the only songs you know are boy bands.”

  I stop, and Millie slams into my back.

  “Shawn Mendes isn’t a boy band. Neither is Justin Bieber,” I say, remembering the earlier song I sang to her.

  She laughs harder. “Stop, you’re making it harder to breathe.”

  So then I start singing Maroon 5’s ‘Harder to Breathe.’

  “That’s a real boy band,” I say.

  “Oh my god, seriously stop. I can’t—“

  I turn, and she runs smack dab into me, chest to chest. Face to face. I’m standing downhill from her, so we are actually at eye level with each other. We breathe into each other. Our mouths are hovering over each other but not crossing the line.

  Millie leans forward, her pink lips so close to mine. I want them. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t found the waterfall yet. It doesn’t matter that I’m not in control. What matters is that we want to kiss.

  “Kiss me,” she whispers.

  “Are you begging, Mills?”

  Her lips part, and her tongue slides through, licking her bottom lip, making it perfectly clear what she’d like me to do.

  I swallow hard. This is what I wanted. I wanted her to initiate. I wanted her to beg. I wanted her to want me. To want to be kissed. To want to be fucked.

  “Yes, just like your body is. Your lips have parted. Your breath has caught. You’ve leaned closer. Caught us both entirely out of breath so that we can’t think and stop this. We are both begging—now kiss me,” she says.

  Suddenly, I spot the waterfall trickling behind her through the trees. I grab her hand and yank her in that direction.

  “What are you doing?” she squeals. “Sebastian, I’m tired. I don’t care about the damn perfect waterfall, just—“

  She gasps when she sees the sight. It’s the most beautiful, magical vision. I never knew things like this existed in real life. It looks completely untouched by mankind even though a trail leads right to it. Not very many people have ventured four hours through the steamy jungle to see the simple flow of water over a cliff into a small pool of water surrounded by flowers and greenery that seem to only exist in Hawaii. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  “It’s—,” Millie breathes in, trying to find the right words to describe how incredible it is, but I don’t give her time to think. I want to give her the perfect kiss. Partially because I want to spark her to search for her own happily ever after again, but also because I want to be her best first kiss. I want her to compare all men to me. I want to be impossible to top, so that when a man finally tops it, she can know he is the real deal.

  A kiss by a man who truly loves her doesn’t need to be done near a waterfall in Hawaii, the best kiss of her life just needs to be given by a man who loves her. He can kiss her by a dumpster filled with rotting fish and sewage, and it will still be the best damn kiss of her life.

  I grab her neck, my thumbs caressing her jawline, and before she catches her breath, I close the gap, and our mouths meet for the first time that either of us remembers.

  I forget about where we are. I forget about the waterfall. The sweet scent of the flowers. The beautiful roar of the water.

  The seconds our lips touch, I’m consumed by her—her smell, her taste, her touch. It overpowers everything else. All I can feel is her.

  She smells like juniper breeze. She tastes like strawberry jam. She feels like heaven in my arms.

  This was supposed to be the best damn kiss of her life, but it’s quickly becoming mine. I’ve never had a kiss like this—one that literally took my breath away, along with all of my thoughts and senses.

  I don’t know what is going on in Millie’s head, but I hear the moans she’s making, her hands digging into my chest, pulling me tighter against her, our hips slamming together. Her tongue begs for more in my mouth, and I give it to her. Our tongues glide over each other’s in a teasing dance.

  This kiss has to end before I yank all her clothes off and fuck her in the middle of the rain forest. That might sound romantic as hell, but I doubt when we have splinters and poison ivy and ticks, it will still feel that romantic. I want Millie in a proper bed—my bed. I want her in that heavenly bed back at our hotel.

  I pull away before she realizes the kiss is over, and I watch for a split second where her lips kiss the air between us wanting more.

  Her eyes flutter open, slowly coming back to reality.

  I’m still stuck in the fantasy. What the hell was that? There is no way that was normal. A kiss like that is a once in a lifetime kiss.

  “Was that…?” I ask, even though I have no idea what I’m asking.

  “Hmm,” she says back, oblivious that my question made no sense.

  We both take deep breaths, still pressed against each other everywhere but our lips. I’m not big on kissing. It’s just a prelude to the fucking, but Jesus effing Christ—I think I’ve been wrong all my life. That kiss flipped my heart upside down. It wrecked my soul. It made me harder than I’ve ever been. It was more than just a tease—it was the whole show.

  Yes, I still want to fuck her, but I’m more than satisfied just kissing her.

  Millie is the first to actually articulate her thoughts into words. “If you kissed me like that back in Vegas, then it’s no wonder that we ended up married. How could I let someone who kisses me like that go?”

  She’s so bold with her words, so Millie. I’m thankful, because it reminds me that I can’t let her fall for me. I have to be a little cruel. I have to be a bit of the asshole I’m supposed to be. I have to keep her feelings out of this. Just remind her that perfect kisses exist. That love can exist if both people believe in it. I just don’t.

  I snicker. “Don’t go getting soft on me, Mills. I made you climb a mountain to earn that kiss. I didn’t kiss you until you begged.”

  She steps back, and I step forward. I grab her hips, pulling her tightly against my steel cock. “And I won’t fuck you until you open your pretty little mouth to me, get down on your knees to worship my cock, and plead with me to enter you.”

  “Asshole,” she curses when I release her.

  “Tease,” I curse back. But Millie is anything but a tease. She’s the whole package. And I think for a moment that I’m wrong in trying to push her into dating again, finding a man again. No man could be worthy of her.

  She glares at me, but there is a softness to her eyes when she looks at me. She knows I’m acting mean to keep her safe, to keep her from falling for me. I look away, needing a moment to think about my next move…

  “Son of a bitch,” I yell as something stings my neck.

  “Don’t move,” Millie says so calmly and sure.

  I freeze. Well, everything but my heart freezes. My heart pounds a million miles a minute in my chest, still dreaming about that damn kiss. I know I’m in danger. This special moment is over, but all I can think is, why did I stop kissing her?

  18

  Millie

  My heart teeters on the edge of so many feelings. The hurt I felt after he acted like a grade-A asshole. The fear I feel at watching what he just stumbled into. And yet the strongest emotion is still tied to that kiss.

  I’ve been kissed before, but not like that.

  That kiss was jaw-dropping, inside turning, a let’s ride off into the sunset on our white horse kind of a kiss. I can’t even figure out why the kiss was so incredible. He had great technique, sure. The spot he chose to kiss me was magical, the most beautiful natural place I’ve ever seen, and I’ve traveled the world. But we were also exhausted, sweaty, and sunburnt. We don’t like each other, we hardly know each other, and
yet…

  I want a repeat. I want him to kiss me again and again.

  He’s kissed me before, but somehow I forgot. I don’t know how that’s possible when I know that I’ll be thinking of this long after Sebastian and I get divorced and go our separate ways. That kiss renewed my hope in humanity, in love.

  It shouldn’t. Sebastian King doesn’t do love. Neither do I. Yet it felt like the universe was trying to tell us something with that kiss.

  I’m horny as hell and haven’t gotten laid in forever. That’s it. We just need to fuck, and then we will be out of each other’s systems. But no more kissing; kissing is dangerous. Kissing caused my heart to flutter—a heart I thought I’d locked away and protected with castle walls, a draw bridge, and a moat. I didn’t think anyone, especially Sebastian King, had a shot at getting through, and yet, my heart did strange things during that kiss.

  Focus.

  “Son of a bitch, that hurt,” Sebastian says, slapping his neck again.

  “Don’t move.”

  “Millie, what’s going on?”

  Sebastian huffed off because he was a jerk after our kiss. A kiss that affected him just like it did me. A kiss that caused him to lash out to avoid either of us getting feelings. A reaction that caused him to not realize that his foot is stuck in a fallen beehive. The bees he has thoroughly pissed off will come at him hard as soon as he removes his foot.

  I have to remain calm though, I don’t want him to panic and take a misstep and fall over the cliff a few feet behind him.

  “Sebastian, are you allergic to bees?” I ask.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  I nod. “Good. You’re standing on a beehive, and when you lift your foot, they’re all going to come after us. I’m going to count to three, and then we’re going to run as fast as we can. Understand?”

  His eyes are big as he nods.

  I swallow down my fear. Bees are harmless; they don’t usually attack unless threatened, but we just threatened a whole bunch of them.

  “One…two…three!”

  We immediately sprint as fast as we can while a swarm of angry bees lurches out of the hive. We run through trees and jump over bushes to get away as fast as possible.