Page 54 of My Worst Pucking Enemy

“Okay, first of all, I’d show you, but that’s for Ruby’s eyes only.” He grins at her.

“Aww, rats.” Kennedy pouts.

“But I will answer the question. Yes. I am longer than a standard-length pencil.”

They both gasp and pretend to swoon. And that familiar warmth pulses between my legs. Now they’ve got me thinking about it, damn them. I’ve seen him in a towel, but I’ve never seen him naked. What would it look like? Feel like?

Damn it. It has been way too long since I’ve experienced an earth-shattering orgasm, or even a so-so just okay orgasm. I really need sex, but I’m stuck fake-dating this big handsome annoying jockstrap all summer long. It’s going to be a long, hot summer.

I heave a sigh. “Girls. Ladies. Wenches. I love you, but it looks like I am being abducted very much against my will, so why don’t you two go ahead without me? I’ll be there in spirit. Kennedy, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Clair, you’re hopeless. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“All right. Normally I disapprove of girlfriends ditching their pals for a man, but since it’s Paxton Saul...” Kennedy giggles. “By the way, our rude friend Ruby did not formally introduce us.”

They each introduce themselves to Pax, shaking his hand. Kennedy shamelessly sneaks a peek at his crotch. Clair does too, and they look at each other and nod, and then they finally leave.

I turn to look at him. “What the heck?” I demand. “You can’t just hijack my plans like that.”

Paxton gives me a lazy smile. “Actually, for the rest of the summer, I can. In this case, Mason absolutely insisted that I meet up with him and Rowan tonight. They’re probably going to interrogate us, read us the riot act, or both. Thanks for getting my dry cleaning, by the way. What was that smell on my suit? Because I will never be able to wear it again.”

I give him an evil smile.

“I’ll never tell.”

He replies with a lazy smile. “That’s fine. I ordered another suit. You can pick it up for me next Tuesday. I’ll send you the address of my tailor. Yes—before you ask—the paps will be there.”

“You’re making me look like some wannabe fifties housewife. This is humiliating!” I glare at him.

“Welcome to the big leagues, honeybunches. Okay, my driver is waiting for us. And tonight you’ll have to be on your A game, because Ruby is going to be watching us like a hawk, and she’s going to grill you like a delicious burger.”

I grab my purse, muttering under my breath. The minute we step out of my dorm room, though, I’m all smiles. Ruby trained me well. As we walk out of the building, hand in hand, students pull out their phones and start snapping pictures of us.

“Paxton and the jailbird!” a girl shouts in glee.

We keep having to stop and sign autographs, I keep having to resist smacking girls who try to slip him their number, and it feels like forever before we make it to the limo he has waiting for us. He makes a big show of holding the door open for me.

I know that this will be all over social media within minutes, which is good for our cover story. I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek, and then nuzzle his neck, enjoying his startled gasp.

“And we’re done,” I say.

As soon as the door to the limo shuts and we pull away, I slide to the other side of the limo.

“Ruby, if you want me that bad, you can just ask,” Paxton smirks. “I’m happy to help a girl out.”

“Dream on, puckface. It was all for show.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Also, my terms of endearment are much cuter.”

He’s acting like he couldn’t care less, but when I sneak a peek, I can see the outline of his cock straining against his pants. Even though he obviously still holds a big dumb grudge against me, he at least wants me physically, which is salve for my ego.

I pull my phone out of my purse and make a big show of ignoring him, so he does the same.

Once we arrive, though, I have to paste a big smile on my face, wave at the photographers waiting outside, and let him hold my hand again. It actually feels nice, big and warm and strong, wrapped around my hand like a hug.

The restaurant is buzzing with Manhattan’s most beautiful people. I recognize models, actors, and politicians as the maître d’ leads us through the room and into a VIP section in the back.

Rowan and Mason are already seated, with drinks in front of them. They both have soda water. Because of Mason’s issues with drinking and a couple of stints in rehab that happened before she dated him, she tends not to drink alcohol when she’s with him.

Rowan leaps to her feet and hugs me as we walk up.

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