Page 51 of Forever Fake

“You’re welcome. Now don’t do anything too crazy when you leave town tomorrow for the West Indies. Have fun, but not too much fun. I’ll only call if something extremely important comes up.”

“Me? Do something crazy?” I scoff and Arianna groans before hanging up. Strangely, I haven’t felt the need to act out lately. Not since after that first night I moved in with Blake. Which makes me believe that my need for raging parties and drunken debauchery stemmed from rebellion—against my parents. Against anyone who tries to control me. Though Blake’s type of control isn’t so different from my parents, I can’t quite put a finger on it. He doesn’t set me off the way they did.

Now… I don’t know. I think I’ve changed. I feel like I’m growing up, maybe growing into a whole new person, and I think I like who I’m becoming. Glancing around the kitchen, a smile tugs at my lips, I certainly like being here. It feels like home.

I’m sitting in the living room, reading the latest gossip in theBig Apple Buzzon my phone, when Blake comes home. He sets his briefcase down, and I launch into a rant. “Can you believe what these so-called reporters are saying about your sister’s wedding? They call her a gold-digger. Worse, they sayher mother and her future husband used to be lovers—that they might still be lovers. They even?—”

“That part is true.”

I gape at him. “What?Your step-mother’s marrying her own daughter to one of her former lovers?” I can’t believe it. That’s…disgusting. Isn’t it?

Blake nods, loosening his tie and removing his suit jacket. “I told you they’re twisted. I don’t think Yve and Franklin are together anymore, but he was around a lot right after my father died. They’ve been close ever since.”

I pull a face. That’s just wrong. “They mention us in here too.”

“Oh? What do they say about us?”

“That I’m a gold-digging socialite who snagged the most eligible bachelor in New York.”

“Well they’re right, you did snag the most eligible bachelor in the city.” He flashes me a rare grin.

I huff a laugh. “Of course you’d say that.” I set down my phone. “That’s enough of that, if your ego gets any bigger you won’t be able to fit through the door.”

A genuine smile briefly appears on his face, but it barely reaches his tired eyes. I didn’t realize until now how dark the circles are beneath his eyes and how his skin’s grown pale.

“You look like shit.”

He laughs. “A fair evaluation. I feel like shit.”

Getting to my feet, I pour him two fingers of whiskey from the bar and hand it to him. “Come. Sit down.”

He’s so tired that he doesn’t even comment on me bossing him around, and he does as he’s told, settling onto the sofa where I direct him. Rounding the piece of furniture, I stand behind him and ease my thumbs into the tight muscles of his neck. He groans. His head falls to his chest as I work out his kinks.

“When’s the last time you had a proper massage?” I ask.

“Never.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like people touching me.”

I pause, my hands hovering above his skin.

“Keep going,” he grunts. “That feels fucking amazing.”

Giddiness ripples through my chest and I double-down on working my magic on him. He doesn’t likeotherpeople touching him, but he likes it whenIdo. I shouldn’t be so happy about that, but I am. It makes me feel special. Feeling special to a man like Blake is addictive, and dangerous.

My fingers move from his neck to his broad shoulders which are equally as knotted up. He holds a lot of tension in this area. While I’ve never given anybody a massage before, I’ve had enough of them to generally know what I’m doing. Sure enough, he slowly begins to relax. Once I have him like putty in my hands, I rake my fingers through his thick blond hair, it really is as soft as it looks. As I massage his scalp, he moans.

“This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he murmurs, eyes closed.

Satisfaction pulses beneath my skin. Releasing him, I walk around until I’m standing between his legs. From the front, I circle my thumbs on his temples, then ease his tight jaw muscles. He watches me through his dark blond lashes.

Setting his drink aside, he wraps his large hands around my waist and tugs me closer, until I land in his lap. I stare into his bright blue eyes, the intensity in them has my stomach fluttering and my heart swaying. Then he lowers his lips to mine. The move is slow, deliberate, as is his kiss. His mouth moves against mine languidly. This kiss is different from others, he’s taking his time. I open for him and his tongue sensuously tangles with mine.

A fire builds between my legs. I want so much more of what he has to offer, but I’m afraid of falling too deep under his spell.

“Mm,” he hums. “You taste so sweet, magpie. In fact, you might be too sweet for a man like me.”

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