Page 12 of The Fake Date Deal

“Marco,” she sighed, and her fingers went lax. She’d been pulling my hair, and now she stroked gently. “What else can you do?”

“What else do you want?”

“Get up here and kiss me. And get those pants off.”

“Mm, bossy much?” I did as she said. I liked her demanding side, her wide, naughty smile. The pinch of her teeth as she nipped at my lip. I shoved my pants down halfway and she kicked them off me, and she snagged her purse from the side table. She fished out a rubber and tore off the packet, and rolled it on me in one fluid motion.

“Fuck me,” she said.

“Ask me nice.”

She slapped my ass. “Fuck me now.”

I slapped her back, teasing, across the meat of her thigh. She smacked my shoulder, then the side of my head, then pulled me in for a lingering kiss. She was laughing, giggling, a bright, joyful sound. I couldn’t wait any longer, and I slid inside.

Eve gasped at my girth and wrapped her long legs around me. She pulled me in deeper and rocked up her hips. We moved together, her breath on my neck. She hadn’t taken her shoes off and her heels gouged my back, spurs to a horse, and I rode harder. My name spilled from her lips. I shouted hers. She arched up against me and I held her close. I flipped us over and let her ride me, her blond hair silver in the starlight. She never stopped touching me, exploring my body. I lost myself in the constant sensation. Soon, I knew I wouldn’t hold out much longer, and I rolled us back over and leaned in to kiss her.

“Marco…” Her breath was hot on my lips. I thrust in deep and she bucked up to meet me. Our rhythm picked up in a rising crescendo. I kept my eyes open as my peak overtook me, memorizing her face in her own ecstasy. Her head was flung back, her pink-kissed lips parted, a bright, warm flush high on her cheeks. I’d never seen anything so perfect, and my climax hit hard.

“Marco,” she whispered, as we crumpled together, her leg slung around me, her cheek pressed to mine. I pushed my fingers into the fall of her hair.

“I shouldn’t sleep here,” she said, and cuddled up closer.

“Why not? Who’s stopping you? You got somewhere to be?”

Eve didn’t say anything, just pulled up the covers. I toyed with her hair as her breathing went slow. I didn’t want to doze off just yet. I wanted to savor the time I still had with her, the few hours before she remembered I was no prince. I wasn’t her endgame, just a vengeful detour.

She whispered my name again, halfway asleep, and I smiled, spiteful. For tonight, I’d won.

CHAPTER 5

EVE

Icame awake slowly from a sweet dream, the kind that feels a shame to shake off. I didn’t open my eyes at first, hoping I’d drift back to sleep, but I could tell I’d already slept late. Bright light came filtering through my closed lids, the morning sun warm on my bare face. Marco was stirring beside me, not quite awake. He snuggled up to me, sighed, and mumbled to himself.

I became aware of a buzzing, an intermittent vibration. My purse was vibrating. My phone, inside. I winkled it out slowly, not to wake Marco, and by the time I had it, the buzzing had stopped. I had about a zillion missed calls and texts, beeps and boops from socials, old-fashioned emails. I scrolled through till I found one with a picture: me and Marco lip-locked on the steps of the club. He was dipping me like we were dancing the tango, his lips brushing mine, his hand on my thigh. The caption read PASSION, just that, all caps. We were trending on everything, that shot, that kiss, and a mean thrill coursed through me when I saw Rafael trending with us. One of the tabloids had started a poll: me and the driver or me and the prince? Marco was winning by a landslide.

u kidding? their chemistry is Off The Charts

Anyone else think she was the dumper? Like, she told Rafael it was over and THAT’S when he ran?

RAFAEL WHO? MARCO IS HOTTTTTTTTTTTT

you go girl! GET SOME!

I pictured Rafael waking in some five-star penthouse, his own phone buzzing on his bedside table. He’d reach for it, check it, and there I’d be. There we’d be, me and Marco. He’d see I’d moved on. Not just moved on, but I’d done better. I’d snagged his rival, and the whole world loved us. I didn’t even feel bad, because why should I? The way he’d left me was as bad as it got, right down to that awful, belittling note. If you had a passion like I do, I’d want you to live it. What in the hell made him think I didn’t? That all there was to me was some pretty face?

I turned my phone face down, breathing hard through my anger. The whole point of this was to get past my jilting. To take back my power and get on with my life. But what did I have to really get on with? I didn’t want to go on like I had been, letting life sweep me along on its current. I had passion — I did — but when had I pursued it?

I smiled down at Marco, still sleeping beside me. I’d never meant for our dalliance to go this far, but I couldn’t say I felt any regret. Last night had been wonderful, and the press did feel good, seeing last week’s top story buried by this week’s. What would happen, I wondered, if we kept it going? If I was seen out with Rafael’s biggest rival? If we were everywhere, and he couldn’t escape us? Maybe it would eat at him, and he’d start losing races. He’d lose to Marco, and we’d celebrate.

Marco opened one eye, then opened the other. His lips curled up in a slow, lazy smile.

“Morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

“I had a nice dream.” I smoothed his hair off of his forehead. “How about you?”

“Slept like a baby.” He sat up and stretched, and I watched without shame. Muscle and sinew stood out as he stretched, the harsh morning light cutting contours like marble. He really was HOTTTTT, with all the Ts. I kissed him high on his back, between his sharp shoulder blades.

---