Page 84 of Faking It

The doors close on a snap, on beat with a flash of memory. Ana riding my cock like there was no tomorrow, the explosive scream from her mouth, the sweet pain from her rough yanking of my hair as she came apart for me. The way she moaned my name when there was no energy left inside her. That tenderness in her eyes as she stared at me. It was a night that keeps living rent-free in my head, and I have no plans to evict the memories.

Especially when I’m already aching for a repeat.

There was so much more I wanted to do to her that night, like introduce her to my private room, get her acquainted with my little friends. It was too soon, though, and after what she went through with that sicko, a part of me fears it might be never. I won’t rule it out yet.

Baby steps. I’ll feel her out, see how much she’ll allow. Deep down, I just know that room was made for her.

The doors open on the ground floor, and I cross the lobby while checking the time. Another hour before my shoot for a fashion magazine. As it turns out, the influx of orders came from a sponsored Ad and not my cover being blown, to my relief. The traction in my business cements the fact that I can achieve things on my own merit. I don’t need connections to earn success.

My eyes are still glued to my phone as I exit the front door, but I still see the approaching woman in my peripheral vision. A reflex motion makes me hold the door for her, but something prompts me to look up, then I do a double take.

She’s much older looking now, even more haggard than the last time I saw her, grey hairs overpowering the browns, lines decorating her weather-beaten face. Six years has done nothing to erase the memory of the woman who made Ana fall to her knees that night. I’d know her mother anywhere.

This is not good. Not good at all.

“Excuse me,” I call out, and she turns around. Awareness dances on her face. “Can I help you?”

She smiles coming back through the door and joining me on the sidewalk. “You sure can, handsome. Aren’t you that bigshot actor who’s dating my daughter?”

“And your daughter is?” Chances are, she still hasn’t found Ana, which means giving as little information as possible.

“That must be a rhetorical question,” she replies, her smile fading fast. “Unless you’re two-timing my daughter.”

“Lady—”

She points at me. “If you are, you’re gonna answer to me, buster. I’m not gonna stand here and let someone play my only kid.”

I’m not buying her protective mom behavior, not after what Ana told me. Knowing she did nothing to help her ‘only kid’ while Ana suffered boils my anger. I’m tempted to call security and have them throw her out.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask again, crossing my arms on my chest.

“Yes. I’m trying to find my baby.” She digs into her purse. “I don’t know if she told you, but we had a falling out a couple of years ago…”

By falling out, you mean letting her go to prison for defending her own life.

“…and uh…” Her voice trails as she digs into the purse again, her eyes turned upward as if she’s searching with her mind, too. “I couldn’t find her. Searched every goddamn where. It’s not until the little scandal with you and her ex that I realize she’s been hiding in plain sight all along. Even with that blond hair and that skinny body, I still know my own kid.”

She makes a pleased sound in her throat as her hand emerges from the bag, clutching a piece of folded paper. “Here it is, the address I got from a friend of hers. But when I got there, her neighbor told me she hasn’t been around in days. I looked up the studio producing her movie and came here.”

“I’m sorry, but you still haven’t explained why you’re here.”

“Is that another rhetorical question?” she quips. “I just told you, she’s my only kid—”

“Your only estranged kid. You mentioned Ana hiding in plain sight. Why would she hide if she wants you around?”

Her face goes red. She steps toward me. “I don’t care if you’re screwing her. What happens with my daughter is none of your business.”

“Well, I’m making it my business.” I arrange the darkest scowl on my face. “Ana doesn’t want to see you. If she did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

I wait for a biting remark, but she just smirks. Before I wonder what it’s about, she replies, “I think she’s going to want to see me.”

She doesn’t know that I’m aware of what went down. I see right through her mysterious reply. Playing dumb, I press. “We both know that’s not true.”

“No, you think that’s not true, but believe me. You don’t know the half. That cute, innocent-looking girl is not so pure. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I don’t?”

Her expression settles as her eyes searches my face, then she gasps. “She told you.”

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