Faking It with the Billionaire Next Door: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Jolie Day

  Ah.

  She felt so good underneath my body.

  A mixture of summer, vanilla and coconut hit my nostrils, and the way she was wiggling under me urged me on to give her what we both desperately wanted.

  I watched her eyes, slowly pressing my thick length a bit deeper into her.

  Fuck she was tight.

  I kissed her lips and pressed forward. She opened her mouth, lifted her hips slightly, and we found the sweet spot, the perfect angle. We both let out a heavy, raspy breath as I pushed my cock further inside her. The pressure was dazzling, and I felt her muscles struggling to accept my girth. I took my time, making sure to let her get used to my size, stretching her completely, before releasing my tension and pulling back again.

  When I started to pulse into her, her eyes were closed and her mouth open, whimpering in pleasure.

  She was in pure ecstasy. I was in pure ecstasy.

  Our bare bodies were pressed together so firmly that it felt as if they were one and she never wanted to be separated from me again.

  It was a strange feeling. One that I’d never had before.

  “Baby?” I growled. She gave a short gasp, and her eyes opened to meet mine. I realized that I had probably found a term of endearment that she liked—that she wanted to be my baby.

  “Yes?”

  I took a deep breath. “You’re making me forget.”

  “Miles…”

  As we rocked together, I kissed her passionately. Feeling elated with pleasure, her skin smooth and soft against mine, we weren’t quiet as we lost ourselves within each other. I fucked her hard and thorough. With one hand, I grabbed onto her ass, holding her still so I could pierce into her body.

  Rose lost herself into my eyes, her moans escalating. “Oh… oh… ohhh…”

  She couldn’t hold back the moment of pure bliss, and her body bucked up, exploding with ecstasy. I heard her moan the most carefree, sexy sound I’d ever heard, and her muscles began squeezing me, over and over.

  I couldn’t contain myself any longer, and I came hard.

  Everything stopped.

  I was thrown into an unreal moment of time and space.

  The world stopped spinning. Time stopped turning. There were no noises or movements or air for us to breathe. There was absolutely nothing between us. Nothing but this moment existed between us now. That may have existed since the first moment I laid eyes on her.

  And vice versa.

  Just her and I.

  Us.

  Drunk with pleasure, and still buried inside her, I lifted my head to glance at Rose. Her eyes shone back at me, with her rosy cheeks and the face of an angel. There was so much trust in her eyes—every muscle in my body strained, and my heart hammered to the point of echoing.

  She had touched my very soul and had unlocked the hope buried deep inside.

  I was completely and utterly lost.

  25

  MILES

  “That was so breathtaking and wonderful, I feel so happy…I mean, well, that was fun,” Rose said after we’ve cleaned up and were lying back in bed. Her face wore an impudent smile, bringing us back to our joyful reality. She cuddled back up against me, and I turned her on her back.

  She wanted more spanking, clearly. But, I liked the humor in her words, the lightness of it. I leaned on my elbows and looked down at her.

  “It wasn’t half bad,” I said, and she nudged me into my side.

  “Not as good as I imagined,” Rose said, and we both erupted in laughter. Her comeback was funny.

  “Miles…at first, I thought you had socks down there!” Rose was shaking with laughter, jiggling and waggling her body against mine. We laughed against each other’s ears.

  “I don’t,” I rumbled. “Not usually.”

  “I know. One word: Giant. Giant in a good way.”

  “Bigger than you’d ever imagined, right?” I growled, amused.

  “Maybe…” She bit into my earlobe, “… but maybe not.”

  “Do you think you would’ve heard us over at your old apartment?” I asked, turning us to the side, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her closer to me.

  “Definitely,” she said, before snuggling into my arms.

  The sex had been and was glorious, and we ended up kissing, and touching, and exploring, fucking, laughing, and stopping the world from spinning all throughout the night.

  In the morning, I woke up muscles sore, still dazed in an unfamiliar way, but content.

  I didn’t think I’d have blue balls for another half year, after Rose had surprised me so thoroughly with her desire and the reciprocal passion it had awoken in me. So luckily, that little problem was solved. I turned my head to see her still sleeping next to me.

  I seriously hoped she’d be open to a repeat. You know, filling up the spare canister or two couldn’t hurt. Or one-hundred-sixty-seven, until the contract ended, that was at least once per day. Since when did I start counting fucking canisters? How many days had we left? Definitely not enough. Pretend girlfriend or not, the evening and night had been one of the best I’d ever had.

  Just then, she stirred, rubbing her eyes, and she turned to face me. She looked adorable. Tired, but adorable.

  “Mornin’,” she managed to croak out.

  “Good morning,” I rumbled.

  Rose sat up on her elbows and took a look around. “Well. Who’d have thought my first night here I wouldn’t even sleep in my own bed.”

  “I think it was pretty clear if you ask me. For the record, I definitely did not mind. I mean, if that’s how you’re gonna spend your evenings here, you’re welcome in my bed every night.”

  I laughed as she sleepily smacked my arm. Then, she sat up and looked at me, expectantly, her eyes big.

  Did she want to surprise me with a “morning surprise”? Yuha. Perfect. I wouldn’t say no to that. This would be the best six months of my life. Almost instantly, I placed my hands behind my head, leaned back, adjusting my hips, giving her full access to my lap—to my whole body really.

  Ready, baby.

  “Okay, close your eyes or turn around or something,” she urged.

  Close my eyes? Turn around? Okay, wait what? Still in my position with my hands behind my back and my head faced toward her, I calmly obliged and closed my eyes. “Rose, I’ve seen you naked, so why the—?”

  I felt her presence leave the bed. No. I wanted to protest. “Where are you g—?”

  “Okay, open.”

  I opened my eyes.

  She stood with one of my towels wrapped around her body, looking sexy as fuck.

  “So…,” she said. “About last night, don’t read into it, okay? Please?”

  I sighed. Okay so, here was the thing: That wasn’t exactly the morning surprise or morning-after “sweet-talk” I’d anticipated or hoped to have.

  But, hey. I was a pretty laid-back guy. Not an over-thinker. Nothing much really aggravated me. Not for long, anyway. And I sure as hell wasn’t the type to read anything into any situation. It was obvious that she needed some time to process everything. Maybe I did, too. It had been more than intense.

  No problem.

  “Sure.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  But wait, did that mean she didn’t want a repeat?

  Like, ever?

  I lowered my arms.

  “It was just the whole romance of the evening, you know,” she continued, “… and the wine. Definitely the wine. Too much of it, and I was horny. I hadn’t had sex in a really long time, two years, and you were there, you know?”

  I was there? What did that even mean? That she would’ve taken any man who’d been there?

  Also, we hadn’t had that much to drink. Barely anything, in fact.

  Even though I felt like laughing at her words that honestly felt like excuses, I just let her have this instead.

  “Sure. Fine by me.”

  She’d change her mind.

  “Let’s just forget last night ever happened,” she said.


  Forget last night ever happened?

  I nodded.

  “Okay, great. I’m going to my own room now,” she said awkwardly, and gave me a thumbs up, and I, idiot, returned the gesture. She quickly picked up her heels before slipping— practically running—from my room.

  As I lay in my bed, staring out the window, I thought about what had happened here last night. The evening had been a huge success. Giant. Mind-blowing. Rose had been horny, and so had I. In her case, it was a surprise, in my case, it wasn’t. Problem was, she didn’t want a repeat, at least, that’s what she was trying to tell me, and more importantly—herself. But I mean, fuck, if I bumped into her in the hallway and she was in a towel like that, I’d have serious trouble keeping my hands off of her.

  I thought about her panties that I’d stolen. Or her thong or whatever. Was there even a difference? They were still in my jacket pocket at the door. My little trophy. If she ever turned back into her prissy little self again and wanted to magically “forget” about what had happened last night, I’d wave that sexy scrap of material right in her face.

  Nobody is going to forget things on my watch.

  No, sir.

  I wiped my hand over my face.

  I had to keep myself together, but I also had to admit that I clearly wouldn’t mind having Rose in my bed again, horny or not.

  The good thing here was, she only said that we needed to “forget last night.” That was what she said. Right? She didn’t say it couldn’t happen again—but I fucking hoped it would.

  I hadn’t felt this good in a long fucking time.

  It seemed she was apprehensive about it, but not regretful.

  Not all hope was lost.

  I wouldn’t have to wait long until she came begging for more. I was sure. There was no way she wasn’t feeling what I felt. In fact, if she only felt a fraction of what I felt, say one percent of the horniness, she’d be knocking on my door tonight.

  That’s in less than twelve hours. Eleven hours and forty-four minutes to be precise.

  I smiled to myself. Yeah, baby.

  I’m ready.

  26

  MILES

  Turned out, she didn’t come knocking that night. Nor the night after. Or any of the following nights. Or days. Oddly enough, Rose didn’t seem in any way, shape, or form interested in finding herself in my bed again. Not that I pushed the matter, not in the least. I gave her space, of course, thinking she was just too busy with work. What had she said, that she hadn’t had sex for two years? How was that even possible? Did that mean she wouldn’t need sex for another two years? I hoped I didn’t fill her up to the brink. I mean, we barely scratched the surface. Maybe her tank was at five percent full, six tops.

  She had to come back for more.

  But, a few more weeks passed, and she still hadn’t returned for round two. In fact, she’d been determined to add that damn clause in the contract: Nothing physical.

  Business partners, my ass.

  I was in my office staring out at the view below. I kept finding myself daydreaming. I hadn’t thought that all this time later I’d still be thinking about her, and what else I wanted to whisper into her ear, what else I wanted to do to her body. The asshole on my shoulder urged me to move on, to respect her wish.

  With Rose, I didn’t want to move on.

  I wanted to go back for more.

  And more.

  I wanted to spend time with her. I’d always thought she was a killjoy, an Ice Queen, a good girl. Shit, had I been wrong. It turned out that not only did she like having a good time, but she did things to me that I fucking liked. It was evident. She just needed the right man to rev her engines. Me. And boy, did I enjoy revving her engines. Whenever there was a quiet moment, my mind would start showing me memories of her, of that night, of her body, and what she did to mine. I’d sit and dream about her perfect ass in the air, how I’d spanked it, how her lips had felt on mine—even the way her hair had felt when it brushed over my skin.

  I wanted to feel it all again.

  Of course, living with Rose made it extra frustrating: seeing her walk around in her cute dresses, and that white robe; watching her bite her lip when she concentrated on her book, and when she snorted baking and burning cookies; hearing her sing in the shower; squealing in joy when she played with Daisy. Everything she did was driving me crazy. The way she laughed watching old movies! Can you imagine the crazy ass movies I would never have seen without her? I mean, black and white movies are actually as good as most of the movies we rave about. There’s some good stuff in there.

  As I was wondering just how long I could last realistically without having her in my bed again, I heard Gretchen’s voice through my speakerphone. “Mr. Humphries, it’s one o’clock. You have lunch with your father, your brother, and Mr. Copeland planned.”

  Right. I picked up the phone.

  “Thanks for reminding me, Gretchen. You’re welcome to take a long lunch, as well,” I said before standing and buttoning my suit jacket.

  I headed out of my office and gave Gretchen a quick nod as I passed her. She smiled back at me, gathering her things to leave.

  In the building lobby, I found Damon waiting.

  “Your dad and Oliver have already gone through. I said we’d meet them there,” Damon informed me and gave me a slap on the back.

  We headed out the front doors, onto the sidewalk. The meeting was at an Italian restaurant around the block. “Bocca Di Giovanni” said the small engraving on the black door. Translated: “Mouth of Giovanni,” a name which I thought quite fitting for the place. It was somewhat of a well-kept local secret, mostly visited by Italians of the older generation. We liked to go there for lunch from time to time, especially when all four of us were getting together.

  As we walked in, the restaurant owner welcomed us. He was an older Italian man with a gray moustache and a hooked nose, extremely friendly. Giovanni always remembered us and treated us like celebrities. He treated anybody who’d visited his place for years like a celebrity, really.

  “Aaaaah, the boys. Benvenuto da Giovanni.” He opened his arms to us, smiling brightly, revealing a big teeth gap between his two front teeth. “Longe’ time no see.” His Italian accent was thick and heavy.

  “We were here last week,” Damon reminded.

  “Longe’ time, like I said,” Giovanni laughed, and Damon patted his shoulder. “Alora. Your padre is waiting. Prego, signori.” He led us through the tables to where my father was already sitting, sipping on a fresh glass of red wine, and occasionally swirling it in the glass.

  “You know the usual, Giovanni, Tagliatelle al ragù alla Bolognese all around,” my father ordered for us. It wasn’t a control tactic. The classic Bolognese here was just the best in the city, so we always ordered it.

  “Molto bene. Coming right up.”

  We sat down and got comfortable, watching Giovanni put down more wine glasses for us. I wondered if Rose would like this place.

  “Thank you, Giovanni. So, Miles?” My dad asked, with a look on his face I couldn’t quite place.

  “Yes, Dad?” I assumed he’d take me on about something, whether it was work or personal. A bubble of stress formed in my stomach when the thought hit me that he might have found out about my deal with Rose.

  “How is that lovely girlfriend of yours doing?”

  I sighed quietly with relief. “Yeah. She’s doing all right, thanks for asking, Pops. Her marketing campaign is apparently going quite well. She’s been very busy lately.”

  Rose had told my parents about her job, at the benefit, and what she’d been busy with recently. They’d seemed fascinated by it, but then again, so was I.

  “That’s good to hear, son. Tell me, how are things between the two of you? Are you treating her well?”

  Hmm. That was odd.

  “What’s with the cross-examination, Pops?” I laughed nervously.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I just know that feeling. I want this to work out for you, Miles
. All this having happened so…suddenly. But when I met your mom, I was absolutely taken by her, and from what I saw at the benefit, you two seemed rather taken by each other.”

  “I’ll say,” Oliver chirped in.

  “Shut up,” I shot at my brother. “Well, Dad, I believe it’s going pretty well. We’re getting serious, you know—talking about moving in together.”

  I decided to start planting seeds so my and Rose’s future engagement looked legit. I sure hoped that until then neither of my parents, or Oliver for that matter, would spontaneously plan a surprise visit one day soon, to find she’d already moved in. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, I guessed. If they did, I’d just say it happened faster than we’d planned.

  “Wow, son, moving in together already? That’s…unexpected. I’ll toast to that.” Dad had a perfect poker-face. I couldn’t tell if the small pause in his words and the look in his eyes meant that he suspected something or he was happy for me.

  In the end, I decided that I had nothing to worry about. Dad would call me out if he suspected bullshit.

  Oliver narrowed his eyes and tapped his chin before saying, “That’s a pretty hasty move for you, Miles. But then again, she is pretty perfect for you. She puts you in your place, calls you out on your bullshit, and even challenges you, while obviously still loving you despite it all.”

  I stiffened slightly. Oliver thought she loved me? Damn. I’d known this would be the deal when I set it up—that we would need to make people believe we “loved” each other—I just hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

  Well, then again. I hadn’t expected to sleep with her, either, had I? Well, okay, I had, but that wasn’t the point.

  Oliver looked at Damon who was sitting leaned back, not participating in the conversation so far. “Damon, you should have seen the two together. They were all hands-on, all night.”

  Damon, being his usual quiet self, didn’t move, not even his head. Just his eyes flipped to me through his glasses with a smile only I was able to see. He wasn’t comfortable lying to my dad, to anybody, really—or hiding the fact that he knew more than them. He remained silent.