Page 11 of How To Fake A Fiancé

She reaches for my hand and guides me to her breast.

With pleasure, darlin’.

Taking one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, I pinch the tip firmly. She wriggles her butt against my erection. My dick slides between her cheeks as I move my other hand down to cup her mound, circling that little bundle of nerves. She gasps, arching her back to me.

“God, you’re good at that,” she says between gasps of air and moans.

Throughout the night, we go for round after round. Each time we finish, she asks for more one way or another.

At one point, I look up from licking more of her cream onto my tongue to see the clock show it’s five in the morning. We may have slept for just a few hours, if that, yet I somehow find more energy to keep going.

Her pussy is now my favorite meal. Her moans and screams of pleasure are now my favorite songs. The more I have of her, the more I want her. How the hell am I going to convince this woman we’re meant to be?

I’m in a deep sleep when a loud thud jolts me awake. I look all around the sunlit room. My clothes are scattered across the floor.

For a second, I’m not sure where I am. Then the memories of last night come flooding back. And then I realize both this beautiful woman and her clothes are gone.

“No. Shit,” I murmur as I rush out of bed and don my clothes as fast as possible.

She left already?

Of course she left. What did you expect?

This was a one-night stand, yet why does her absence affect me the way it does? There’s still so much I want to know about her. Crap, I don’t even know her name. If she’s gone for good, all I have to go on is a picture and a username.

Once I grab my wallet and shoes, I rush out the door barefoot. It’s only been a few minutes since I woke up, so she still has to be on this floor, right? God, I hope so.

I catch sight of the red dress and sexy, curly hair down the hall.

“Wait, uh, red dress,” I call out to her but cringe at not knowing her name. I must be a major tool for forgetting to ask that important question.

Planning to rectify that once I catch up to her, I jog down the hallway as she turns to the bank of elevators. She’ll be gone if I don’t catch up to her. No. She can’t be out of my sight. Not yet.

Last night was the best night of my existence. Hell, it didn’t feel like we were fucking. It was as intimate as proclaiming love to each other. It sounds corny, but I don’t give a fuck. There’s no doubt in my mind we made a connection.

Even as I’m chasing this woman down, the image of her barefoot and pregnant grows stronger and clearer. This isn’t just what I want; it’s what I need to happen. I have to see this through.

The elevator dings before I can make the corner to the bank of elevators. Shit, I need to move faster.

After what feels like an eternity, I make the turn to view her in the elevator. “Wait,” I call out again, catching a glimpse of her surprised face. “I didn’t catch your—” The doors close before I can finish the sentence.

Chapter Two

Friday morning, September 2

Dallas, TX

Kami

The brightness of the sun seeps through the windows and into my eyes. I groan, shielding the bright rays with my hand. Ugh, such a rude awakening. Did I forget to wear my sleep mask again?

I turn to my side with my eyes still closed, not ready to greet the day quite yet, when my hand comes into contact with a hard slab of muscle.

Huh, that’s weird.

Usually I have more room than that in my bed. I glide my hand over the hard wall of skin. Is there someone in my bed? I don’t remember coming home last night.

My fingers move over one ridge of muscle after the next. The air around me smells of a strong, masculine scent.

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