Page 16 of Forever Fake

Blake leans in and lowers his voice, so only I can hear him say, “I want you to be my good little slut.”

I flinch at that last word, then quickly cover it up with a smile that makes my cheeks ache. My heart gallops across my ribcage as I grit my teeth.

Sucking in a steadying breath, I will myself to calm the fuck down. “I’m all yours.”

A devilish grin touches his lips. “You’ll be well rewarded.”

Is he talking about money? Compensation? Or something else?

My gut wrenches with disgust, and my racing heart won’t slow down. Slipping my hand from his, I excuse myself and manage to make my way to the restroom on shaky legs, without faltering. Once safely inside a stall, I inhale a long, shuddering breath and blink away the moisture that threatens to fall. I’m not usually this emotional. Normally I can just roll with whatever people toss at me and laugh it off.

Why do I loathe that Blake sees me as a toy? Did I really expect him to be different from other men? He’s not, and I’ll deal with him the same way I’ve dealt with all the others. Preferably intoxicated enough to not care.

Angrily, I swipe at my wet cheeks. Life’s too short to cry about every little thing. Plus I hate wallowing in the darkness, when I prefer the light.

Everything will be fine. I’m fine.

What I need is more fun in my life. Blake’s party last night was okay, but not the escape I desperately desired. Both of my sisters were there and, as much as I know they love me, I can’t let loose under their watchful gazes. Arianna’s always telling me not to slouch, to drink less, to behave.

I’m so tired of being told what to do. When will they get it, I don’t want to behave, I’ll never follow their rules or anybody else's.

Now Blake wants to tell me what to do? He wants me to be hisgood little slut? I shiver. I don’t belong to any man. Except…now I do, and it’s all my fault. For the next fourteen months, Blake Baron all but owns me.

My pulse spikes. My hands shake.

To take off the edge, I pull the small flask from my clutch and gulp down its entire contents. The vanilla flavored vodka burns my throat on its way to warming my stomach. My head spins a little since I haven’t eaten much today—not with having to answer a million and one questions that my father bombarded me with after Blake left this morning. Blake never should have made my father apologize to me. After the inquisition that followed, I fell back to sleep until the late afternoon, then spent some time getting ready for this dinner.

The alcohol settles in my belly and I immediately feel stronger, floaty, and ready to face the world—and Mr. Baron.

I exit the stall, only to come face-to-face with the devil himself. He pushes off from the wall and strolls toward me, his gaze evaluating, running along every inch of my body.

“I upset you,” he states, but there’s no remorse in his tone.

Stepping around him to wash my hands, I shake my head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Just then, a woman comes into the restroom and gives us a disapproving glance before shutting herself into one of the private stalls. Blake doesn’t seem to notice her. Does he even realize he’s in the women’s bathroom? He probably does, and he obviously doesn’t care. He’s the kind of man who thinks the rules don’t apply to him—and for the most part, he’s right, they don’t.

He folds his arms and leans against the wall closest to me. “I didn’t mean to offend you. One of the reasons I think this can work between us is that you’re no blushing virgin. We’re both experienced adults who know how to give and receive physical pleasure without catching feelings. That’s all I meant.”

“I said don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” I dry my hands, avoiding his stare. “I know my reputation. I’m the one who built it, after all.”

It’s my shield against the truth. I never want anyone to see the darkness that lurks beneath what I choose to show them of myself.

He’s quiet for a moment while he scrutinizes me, seemingly unable to believe that I’m fine. I am fine—thanks to the triple shot of booze flowing through my veins.

Blake nods once, as if he’s made an important decision about something. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Ignoring him, I leave the restroom, returning to our table, and Blake follows me.

“No sex until our wedding night,” he states, sitting down. “We’ll both be celibate for the duration of our engagement. However, we must keep up appearances, so we should kiss and touch in public, the same as any happy couple.”

Finally, I give him my attention. No sex until marriage gives me the time I need to process all of this. It’s generous of him.

The thought of kissing him makes my stomach flip-flop. I can still feel his touch from last night, the sensation of his hands all over my body lingers like a phantom. My lips part and his gaze drops to my mouth.

“Are we in agreement so far?” he asks, his eyes lingering.

My gaze slides over the man seated in front of me. His broad shoulders fill out his suit perfectly. Wavy blond hair, that looks like it’d be soft to touch, falls loosely over his brilliant blue eyes, a square jaw, and full lips. He’s incredibly handsome. A gorgeous devil.