Page 56 of His Fake Fiancé

She was sitting up straight, her spine and shoulders stiff. Her hands were clasped together in her lap. She looked up at him, her kiss swollen lower lip caught between her teeth. Her cheeks were still rosy, although he knew this time it was because of her orgasm. The color spread down her neck and into her chest and the sides of her breasts. Her pupils were blown wide, the dark overtaking most of the blue.

How had he never noticed how fucking beautiful she was before now?

He squatted down in front of her, and covered her hands with both of his. His cock ached, the position doing nothing to help with the pressure behind his fly. It was going to be a long, painful, uncomfortable night.

“Thank you,” he said, rubbing his thumbs against her fingers. “Tonight has been amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted her clasped hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of each of hers. “Goodnight, Claire.”

He pushed himself to his feet and turned to leave.

“Wait.” She grabbed his hand.

He turned back to her. Her eyebrows were drawn together, her lips dipped down. “Where are you going?” Her voice was quiet, an unsure tremor running through the words.

“To sleep on the pull out in the other room.” He squeezed her fingers. Gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He wasn’t sure how convincing it was, considering the lust coursing through his body. But at least he tried.

“But… but, I thought… that we…” The fingers of her free hand curled into the quilt next to her. She glanced at the bulge in the front of his jeans.

His cock gave an answering throb, which he refused to acknowledge. Maybe he’d take a quick shower, take the edge off so at least he’d be able to get some sleep tonight. She licked her lips, and he swallowed back a groan. Jesus, she was going to kill him.

He shook his head. “Not tonight.”

She trapped the side of her lower lip between her teeth—something she did when she was thinking about something serious, something she’d done for as long as he’d known her, although it had never had quite the same effect on him before. His cock gave another jolt, very unhappy to still be trapped in his pants.

“Okay.” Behind the satisfaction in her voice was a confused edge, and his gut clenched. He hated that she was feeling uncertainty, but it was better than regret. And yes, she’d told him she wanted him, that she wanted to do this, but she’d been upset about something tonight. He didn’t want whatever was bothering her making her decisions for her. He knew what it was like to let his emotions dictate his actions, and then regret it in the cold, grey light of dawn.

“Goodnight, angel.” He gave her fingers another gentle squeeze. She licked her lips again, and he swore he was the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. Her chest and throat flushed pink, and the urge to press his face against her skin there, see if it was hot to the touch, was so overwhelming, he was honestly surprised he wasn’t already on his knees.

“Goodnight, Jake.” She let go of his hand and combed her fingers through her hair. The golden waves resettled around her shoulders. His fingers itched to dive into the silky strands, wrap his fist around them, angle her head…

He spun and hurried out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned his back against it and blew out a breath. He was so fucking hard it hurt. He pushed off the door and headed toward the bathroom. Cold shower, a little relief, and then a night spent tossing and turning on the pullout, instead of snuggled in bed with a warm, satisfied woman.

He’d always known he was an idiot. He just hadn’t realized how much until this very moment. Only the thought that he was doing this so he didn’t completely wreck his relationship with Claire stopped him from turning around and begging her to forgive him for being such a moron and thinking too much.

He snorted at that thought. Thinking too much was not a Jake Callahan trait. He was a doer. He cranked the cold water on in the shower and stripped out of his clothes. Thoughts of Claire, coming on his thigh flooded through his brain, and he groaned.

He stepped under the spray and sucked in a quick breath. Goosebumps exploded across his skin, but the icy water had the desired effect. At least physically. His brain however, seemed stuck on visions of Claire.

Claire, his friend, the person who always had his back. His center, his sounding board, his conscience. Who’d stood by him through everything, all the stupid shit he’d ever done. Who’d never said I told you so when he did something stupid. Who’d defended him, who’d helped him, who’d always been there for him.

He scrubbed the shampoo in his hair and then ducked back under the shower head. The cold water had him biting back a curse. He had no idea what to do with all these weird feelings in regards to Claire that had rushed in recently. Clearly, he was having some sort of issue. Because there was no way he should be feeling these things about Claire.

Things like how he wanted to rub against her soft, sweet skin, and soak it all in. Or how he wanted to know how she tasted. All of her. How badly he wanted to watch her ride him until they were both sweaty and satisfied.

He groaned again, bracing his hands against the wall and letting the cold water stream over him. The physical he could understand. It had been a long while—especially by Jake standards—since he’d gotten naked with anyone. What he didn’t get was all the other stuff that came along with it. Like how much he liked it when he made her smile and laugh. Or the way he didn’t like it when she was dancing with Sam. It was something he’d never felt before, and he didn’t know what to do.

Maybe if he ignored it, everything would go back to normal. Although, at this point, he wasn’t sure he knew what normal was anymore, or if he really wanted things to go back to how they were before.

He was so fucking confused he didn’t know what he wanted. Except for a small part of him that wanted the little family they’d made to be real, after all.

The idea freaked him the hell out. And as he stood there, shivering in the icy spray, he convinced himself it was his hormones talking and nothing more. It was the only thing that made sense, the only thing he understood. He was clearly having a mid-life crisis or something. Once this was all over, he’d be fine. Everything would be fine.

No matter what his dick—or his heart—thought.

Chapter 17

Claire tucked the invoices into their appropriate folders in the filing cabinet and then pushed the drawer shut. It banged closed, since she’d used more force than necessary. She winced, glad her dad wasn’t around to hear the racket. Slamming doors were a pet peeve of his, and she was sure that drawers fell into the same category.

She’d been out of sorts all week. Since Jake had spurned her last weekend.