Forty Day Fiancé : A Fake Fiancé Romantic Comedy Standalone Read online

  “Even though she says if you came over right now, she’d ride you like a mechanical bull?”

  Fuck. I got even harder. “She did not say that.” Knowing Sean, he was just yanking my chain.

  He shrugged. “Look for yourself. Trust me, I would not make that up.” He handed me the tablet back.

  I studied the screen. There it was. Almost word for word what Sean had said.

  “Get out,” I told him.

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  “You need to get the fuck out. I’m going to take this tablet back to her.” Only a fucking idiot wouldn’t take advantage of the opportunity.

  “Right now?” Sean shook his head. “You can’t do that. She’ll know you read those texts and then you’ll just look like an asshole. A horny asshole.”

  “No, she won’t. We didn’t open any of them. They just pop up, then disappear. When she logs in with her password they’ll show on her tablet as unread. Besides, I’m sure she wants it back as soon as possible. She took pictures of Becca’s clothes to list for sale.”

  “You still have Becca’s clothes? That’s not weird or anything.”

  “I didn’t know what to do with them. I don’t know. They’re in her closet and I just kept the door shut.” I didn’t think it was that weird. Well. Maybe ten years made it kind of weird.

  I grabbed my phone and called Felicia.

  “Hello?”

  She sounded breathless, like she was walking.

  “I wanted to let you know you forgot your tablet here. Give me your address and I’ll bring it to you.”

  “I did?” I could hear her rustling around. “Well, shit. I live in Washington Heights but I’m not even home yet, so don’t worry about it tonight.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Just passed Forty-second.”

  “You’re only halfway home, then. Do you want to wait for me somewhere and I’ll bring it to you?” I was worried she wasn’t going to have what she needed for other clients. I wasn’t worried about me. I’d been waiting ten years, I could wait another week.

  “No, no, it’s fine. Thanks. Oh, can I ring you back? My roommate is calling.” Felicia sounded frazzled.

  “Sure. Talk to you soon.”

  I ended the call. “You can stay. She’s not even home, so she doesn’t want me to bring it.”

  “Good, because I wasn’t leaving.” Sean put his feet on my coffee table.

  “You are not the company I want tonight,” I said wryly. “Now take this tablet away from me before I read any more of her texts.”

  Too late. One popped up on the screen.

  I should have gone back to his flat and begged him to go down on me.

  I groaned and tossed the tablet toward Sean. “Fuck.”

  “Damn,” he said.

  I couldn’t take it. I had to let her know I could see the texts.

  So I sent her a text of my own.

  You should have.

  Should have what?

  Come back to my apartment. No begging necessary. I would have gone down on you.

  The bubble came up, then disappeared. Then she sent a head exploding emoji.

  I smiled. My phone rang.

  It was Felicia.

  Three

  Reading Michael’s text had made my heart jump into my throat and both my hands come off the pole I was clinging to on the subway. I needed to go back and reread my texts from the group message with my girlfriends. Oh my God. It was exactly what I had said.

  And meant.

  How the bloody hell could Michael know that?

  I was mortified. I was embarrassed. I was very, very turned on.

  So I rang him.

  “Hi, Felicia.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, feeling both angry and flustered. “Why would you send me that text? It’s highly unprofessional.” As were every single one of my thoughts surrounding him.

  “I can read your texts in the group text with your friends on your tablet.”

  My heart fell back down into my gut. Of course he could. The damn tablet was synced with my phone. That had never even occurred to me when I was texting with my friends. He had seen everything. “A gentleman wouldn’t have read what I wrote.”

  “I didn’t mean to. It just popped up when I was moving the tablet. Besides, whoever said I’m a gentleman?”

  The train slowed and without a grip on the pole, I pitched forward and collided with a man’s back. I hooked an arm around the pole and tried to decipher what Michael was actually saying. “You seem like a gentleman. Or you did, until this. Savannah said you were very polite with her.”

  “I was trying to put my best foot forward. But I can be a really dirty bastard if I want to be.”

  He was killing me. I closed my eyes. Which only goes to show you how mad I was for the man and his cock because no one in their right mind ever closes their eyes on the train. I told myself not to say it. Just don’t. If I said it and this went in the toilet, I could potentially lose the commission if he no longer wanted me selling Becca’s clothes.

  But we all know that I said it.

  “I love a good dirty bastard,” I said. “Even a dirty bastard that reads a woman’s private texts.”

  “You pretended to be another woman,” he pointed out. “For weeks.”

  I could not argue with that. “I did.”

  “So I guess we’re both a little naughty, aren’t we?” he said, his voice sounding low and gruff next to my ear. “Get off at the next stop and come back to my place. Did you eat dinner yet?”

  I shook my head, then realized he couldn’t see me. “No.”

  “I’ll order something and open another bottle of wine. Then I’ll go down on you.”

  I mean… was there really any reason to say no?

  “It sounds like an offer I just can’t refuse.”

  “I agree. See you soon?”

  I was already shoving my way toward the door so I could maneuver off the train the second it stopped. “Yes.”

  As I ran down the platform to get back on in the opposite direction, I sent a text to my friends.

  STOP TEXTING. I forgot my tablet at Michael’s and HE CAN SEE ALL OUR TEXTS WHEN THEY POP UP.

  Oh shit, was Leah’s immediate response.

  Dakota just sent me approximately seventeen laugh cry face emojis.

  Savannah sent a gif that was a woman snapping her fingers and underneath was written “Oh, snap.”

  That had me both rolling my eyes and laughing as I jumped on the train going back downtown.

  Isla texted last.

  Only you.

  That’s all she wrote.

  But she was right. I was the only one this would happen to. I was the Bridget Jones of our friend group. And not because I was British.

  My giant handbag was pressed against my thigh. I’d made a stop at a favorite boutique in SoHo that had candles in brilliant scents and now my bag weighed about three hundred pounds. But I would lug the bastard around all night if it meant I got to have sex with Michael.

  He better not be overpromising. I was fully prepared to demand the pleasure he had offered.

  I imagined him between my thighs and my face got hot. My nipples got hard. My lady garden got wet. It had been ages since I’d had sex and ages since I had wanted a man like this.

  Being a workaholic was something Michael and I had in common.

  Clearly another thing we had in common was a burning desire for each other.

  He’d adjusted to me being Savannah easily. Or Savannah being me, however you wanted to look at it. I should probably have been concerned about that but I was choosing to ignore it.

  I could dissect all of that later, after I’d had at least two orgasms.

  When I got to his building I texted him and he buzzed open the door.

  Come on up.

  In the lift, I yanked my beanie off and dug in my purse for a brush and gave it a good yanking through my long hair. I popped a mint in
my mouth and chewed it quickly, then put on a nude lipstick. Fortunately with it being winter my skin was drier than usual and didn’t need a blot, but I wished I had known I would be having sex when I’d woken up that morning. I would have chosen my underwear with more care.

  As I got off the lift, Michael’s door opened and a man came out.

  I gave him a nervous smile, realizing if he had been in the flat with Michael, he knew precisely why I was showing up.

  The grin he returned confirmed that. “Hi, Felicia, I’m Sean, Michael’s brother.”

  “Oh, hi, nice to meet you. I see the resemblance.” He had the same strong jaw and rich brown eyes.

  “I’m the younger and better-looking brother,” he said, winking.

  Michael appeared in the doorway. “Sean, shut up and go home.”

  He gave me a look that made my inner thighs bloom with heat.

  “I’m going. Have fun, kids. Nice to meet you, Felicia. Make sure my brother holds up his end of the bargain.”

  My cheeks got warm. Damn it. I hated to blush but Sean obviously knew everything and that was just a touch awkward. Nothing for it but to just own it. “I’ll be very firm with him,” I said. “Rest assured.”

  Sean laughed. “Good.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder. “You’re in trouble. Talk to you later, man.”

  He moved down the hallway and Michael gestured to his flat. “Come in, Felicia. It’s good to see you again.”

  “See?” I said. “There it is. Polite.”

  “And that’s a problem?” he asked, looking amused.

  “No, it’s just a smoke screen I wasn’t prepared for. I like the combination though. A lot.” I wasn’t even bothering to be coy. Why should I? He’d read all my texts. There was no hiding what I wanted when I’d already literally spelled it out.

  “I like that such a sweet and pretty face hides a devious mind.” He shut the door behind him.

  “Devious? That seems a stretch.”

  Michael stepped into my personal space and looked down at me. “Devious. Naughty. Sexy. Beautiful.”

  I had to tip my head to look up at him. “You make me sound very intriguing.”

  He nodded. “You are.”

  Then he cupped both of my cheeks with his hands and gave me a sensual kiss. Neither light nor hard, but that delicious in-between where your mouths meet like partners in a dance. I sighed in pleasure.

  He broke off the kiss and said, “Let me take your bag and coat.”

  I’d teased him a little about being polite, but it was actually part of the reason I’d always been attracted to older men. They had manners. Of course, a lot of men my age did as well, but an equal number did not. “Thank you.” I handed him my handbag and peeled off my coat.

  “I wasn’t expecting your bag to be so heavy.” He hefted it up and down before setting it on his console table.

  “I popped into a shop on Houston and bought six candles. They have the best scents.”

  “That explains it. I ordered you sushi. It should be here in a few minutes.” He took my coat and hung it in the closet.

  “Wow, that was nice of you.” I was hungry, but I was also feeling a massive sense of anticipation. I wasn’t sure I could sit through two hours of chat and dine without it being weird.

  “Do you want a glass of wine?”

  I nodded and reached down to take off my boots. This was like take two. We’d already done this once today.

  Only this time the sexual tension crackled between us.

  I followed him into the kitchen and watched him pour two glasses of wine. Again. “It’s like we’ve done this before just three hours ago.”

  He laughed. “If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing again.” He handed me a glass. “Cheers.”

  We lightly tapped the glasses together.

  “So tell me what I don’t know about you,” I said. “We talked quite a bit online, but there are plenty of gaps left to fill in.”

  “I grew up in Manhattan, did I tell you that?”

  I shook my head. “No. So a true New Yorker, then.”

  “Go Yankees.” He moved toward the sofa. “Let’s sit down. How about you? Where did you grow up since it wasn’t Pennsylvania?”

  “I grew up in London, a posh kid with posh parents.” I put my glass down on the coffee table and sat down. “Then when I was sixteen my father lost everything to gambling. Well, I guess he’d been losing for years, but that was the year it became impossible to hide it anymore. The bank took the townhouse, the country house, the fifteen-car collection, and my tuition check to private school bounced. My mother filed for divorce. Not that I blame her. That’s a hell of a secret to keep for years.”

  “Wow, that sounds like it was very disruptive for you at that age.”

  It hadn’t been a great time in my life, that was for damn sure. “It was. But it probably made me work harder than I would have otherwise. Those years and then modeling gave me a perspective and maturity I wouldn’t have had. I was a bit of a brat as a girl.”

  “How is your relationship with your parents now?”

  “Mum and I are fine, though we don’t see each other in person that often. My father remarried a woman with money, and while I don’t actively dislike him, we’re not close.” I picked up the wine. Talking about my father was never particularly comfortable. “My mother is the one who taught me about fashion. She was quite the shopper and socialite.”

  “My family has a lot of money as well,” Michael said. “I was a rich kid too. Private schools, polo lessons, a vacation home out in the Hamptons. We were mostly left to raise ourselves, and I have to say, we didn’t do that bad of a job. Sean is a head chef at a great restaurant in Brooklyn and my sister, Maeve, is in television production out in LA.”

  “To city kids raising themselves,” I said, lifting my glass again. It was actually nice to be talking to someone who had a similar background.

  Most of my friends were from suburban upbringings and they had shared experiences that were foreign to me, like the cul-de-sac.

  “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I had a ton of freedom. We thought we were pretty cool back in the day.”

  “Are your parents still here?” I asked.

  He nodded. “They still live in the same apartment I grew up in on Fifth Avenue. Classic Upper East Side.”

  I wondered if I would have thought he was hot when he was back in school. Then again, I’d been a toddler. “What made you want to be a doctor?”

  “I like helping people and I like being in charge.”

  That made me laugh. “Well, that’s honest.”

  He shrugged. “It’s true. And I like the challenge of solving the puzzle. What is wrong and how do we fix it?”

  His phone buzzed. “The sushi is here. I’ll be right back.”

  As he went down to the lobby to get the delivery, I pulled my feet up onto the sofa and tucked them under my thighs. I looked around, searching again for any personal signs that this was Michael’s home. Or rather, what it said about him. But it was just a showroom for the furniture. There were no personal photos sitting around, no treasures from vacations. Though I thought it said more that he was a minimalist than cold-hearted.

  He’d have a heart attack if he saw the cluttered box I lived in. It was better now that Leah had moved out. I’d taken her room and turned it into my storage and mailing room. It was floor-to-ceiling shelves and racks filled with clothes, boxes, and tissue paper. Organized chaos. My bedroom had become the location of my photo shoots in bad weather. My preference was to shoot outside with a building behind the model but that wasn’t always possible in the winter, so I had to keep my furniture to a minimum to make room. My bed was a twin, which was ludicrous at my age, but it was a small room.

  I’d been fretting about the additional rent, but the clothes Michael wanted sold were going to help out dramatically on that front.

  I decided to wander down the hall to his bedroom. Maybe his personality was more apparent ther
e. I passed Becca’s closet and resisted the urge to pull the door closed. “I’m sorry,” I said, just in case she was hanging about. “He’s a very attractive man, as you know. You can’t blame a girl for wanting an orgasm.”

  Fortunately, there was no answer. The lights didn’t flicker either.

  His bedroom was highly predictable. A big queen bed with a modern vibe.

  The bed wasn’t made though, which surprised me.

  “I’m lazy in the morning,” he said. “I never make the bed.”

  I jumped slightly. I hadn’t heard him come up behind me. I turned. “We all have a flaw or two.” His hands were empty. “Was there something wrong with the order?”

  He shook his head. “It’s ready in the kitchen.” His eyes went to the bed. “Unless you’d rather stay in here first.”

  Nodding, I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. “I think I would.”

  “I’m really fucking happy to hear that.”

  He came over to me, and this time, the kiss was hard, demanding.

  It made me instantly hot.

  I raised my arms so I could wrap them around his neck, and he drew me closer, a tight grip on my hips. I felt his hard cock brush against my thigh. Yes. That was what I wanted.

  So I wrapped my leg around his and opened my mouth for his tongue.

  When I had returned to my apartment and found Felicia in my room staring at my bed, I had regretted ordering the sushi. All I wanted to do was ease her down onto that bed and taste her everywhere.

  Given that her leg was wrapped around mine and she was rocking her hips to get our bodies as close as possible, she wanted exactly what I wanted. Both of us naked as soon as possible.

  As I kissed her, teasing my tongue between her lips, I shifted my hands around to grip her tight ass. She gave a low moan of approval, which turned me on even more, if that were at all possible.

  She was different than anyone I’d ever met. She was both blunt and a mysterious puzzle. I definitely recognized the dry sense of humor she had displayed online but she was also more enigmatic than I’d been expecting.