Page 35 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

He probably found someone to satisfy him back in Dallas.

I’m not jealous,I tell myself as a different burning sensation crawls up my spine. If anything, I’m relieved. Ken is keeping his end of the deal, and I’m finding a way out of the mess I dug myself into over the past few years.

My mind is most likely exaggerating my desire for Ken. Perhaps I’d gotten a little confused after he bailed me out of complete ruin, and my subconscious spilled over my gratitude into passion. It’ll take a few days, maybe a few weeks, to put a lid on that. But I’m going to figure out exactly how to do it pretty soon.

But as I stand up from my chair and head back to the main restaurant, a snapshot of a shirtless Ken flashes through my mind. Hard, broad shoulders, perfectly-sized pecs, smooth, toned stomach. The ideal man’s torso. Hisnipples, a dark pink shade, sharp small buds that would definitelyfeel good against my tongue…

Okay, now I’m salivating.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to admit the obvious. I want him. Pretty bad. And all of my defenses are crumbling…or have completely crumbled already. And if I don’t get things in check soon, I’m going to end up doing—or saying—something I’m going to regret.

Ken has proven time and time again that he takes pleasure in edging me. And that was when I was sure he wanted me too. Now…

Keep your dignity, Charlie,I tell myself. That’s going to be the mantra I’ll live with for the next few weeks.

Hours later,I step into the eerie stillness of Ken’s apartment. I closed a little on the late side tonight—I was brainstorming how to get more customers with Haley. As I stride across the living room, I feel almost frantic. I don’t need to think too hard to figure out why. As per Ken’s schedule over the past three days, he’ll be arriving home in less than thirty minutes.

I have to shower andget to bed by the time he’s back. The less time we spend talking at night, the safer I am. And since I use the bathroom right in front of his bedroom, I need to move as quickly as possible.

I hurry up the stairs. Incidentally, they are my favorite detail about Ken’s apartment. Exquisitely curved, it reminds me of a snake wrapped around a pole. There’s a huge abstract painting hanging over them that makes me think highly of Ken’s taste. I glance at it for a second before I dash past the stairs and into my room. Stripping my clothesoff, I slip into my bathrobe and launch myself back into the corridor, heading for the bathroom.

I push the door open and step in. Ken’s bathroom is a wonder on its own. The walls are patterned with white and power-blue tiles that match perfectly with the off-white marble on the floor. The jacuzzi, the room’s main attraction, is a unique hexagonal shape, large enough so that two people can lie comfortably side-by side. Across the room, there’s an antique stone sink and a rustic floor-length mirror that somehow clashes with the rest of the decor and complements it at the same time.

His bathroom always calms me. But not today.

Because the moment I walk in, my feet gliding on the smooth tiles. I’m confronted with Ken standing in front of the mirror, combing his dark hair from his forehead…while fully naked.

All the breath in my lungs disappears in a single instant, rendering it impossible to make a noise. My blood freezes, and I’m suddenly incapable of movement.

All I can do is stare. Take note of all the parts of Ken I hadn’t noticed when we were naked together. The splatter of freckles on his lower back. His ass cheeks, lean and muscular. Even new things, like the drops of water glistening on his skin like shards of ice.

And if I let my eyes go a little lower, I can see it.Him.Hanging between his thighs.

I’m suddenly aware of how dry my lips are. I run my tongue over them, my heart pounding. Under my bathrobe, I’m completely naked as well. If I were to shrug off the material and go to him…

He doesn’t want you, Charlie.

Or does he? What if Ken has been doing nothing but playing a game all along? What are the chances that he’sgoing to turn me down if I stood in front of him, not wearing anything? There’snoway in hell he’s just going to keep staring at me with that glazed-over, respect-your-grandma expression.

“Fuck,” Ken mutters. My heart jumps in my chest. I think for a second that he’s seen my reflection through the mirror. But he doesn’t turn around. Instead, one of his hands reaches down his body, grabbing his dick and pulling it up.

My heart misses a painful beat. I’ve got no idea what he’s going to do next, but if I’m here for longer than I already am, I’m going to lose it.

I tiptoe out of the bathroom. My heart hammers in my chest as I bolt into my room, locking the door behind me. My fingers are jerky as I reach for the dress I just discarded, pulling it back on.

What the fuck is happening to me? Whyam I suddenly unable to keep myself in check?

And what do I do now? Go to bed? Make it obvious that I’m avoiding Ken by not coming out to greet him?

What if hedidsee me?

I’m still hung up on that last thought when there’s a knock on my door.

This time, I jump along with my heart. My entire body is trembling as I look toward the door. But I don’t feel the trepidation I wantto feel.

Instead, I feel…anticipation.

I want him to know I was watching. To have come here only to collect…me.

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