Page 41 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

CHAPTER TEN

Ethan

Morning hits, and I’mstiff as a board… and I am not talking about my abs.

Chase is draped over me like a sultry blanket… again. I could get used to this. Her breasts press against my chest—her pelvis just a subtle back arch from my cock. She’s dripping with sensuality. I need to have a quick sidebar with my dick.

Knock it off, goddammit. This woman drives you nuts!

I tell myself it’s morning wood—purely physical, nothing personal.

Sharing a bed has been more of a challenge than I expected.Shit.I need another shower.

Seconds later, I step under the warm spray, groaning as it cascades down my back. I grip my cock, desperate to take the edge off, but all I can see is her.

Naked.

Dripping.

Yearning.

Stop it, penis!

Maybe I actually want to anger-bang her? We can't stand each other, after all.

Is this some subconscious dirty bucket list thing?

Fuck!My orgasm shreds through me once more, all because of the she-devil who's hijacked my horny second brain.

After my shower incident, I spent the morning dodging Chase like she was radioactive. Fortunately, Dad filled the silence with endless swamp trivia during our drive through the Everglades. Chase hardly spoke, just gazing out the window as if she was contemplating her life choices... Except when she thought I wasn’t looking and I caught her sneaking glances at me.Interesting.

Now it’s the ass-crack of dawn and I’m standing outside an alligator theme park sweating my balls off. The Cherish Channel cooked up a brilliant plan to put us on TV at a time when sane people are still drooling on their pillows. We’re about to appear on the local news, showcasing our totally-not-fake romance for all to see.

But here’s the thing—I’m not exactly bringing my A-game today. Why? Because I find myself continually fixated on Chase. My mind is a chaotic swirl of conflicting thoughts. It’s like I’m viewing two movies at once with completely different plots. I’m not sure if the heroine is likable or a vicious, back-stabbing serial killer. Either way, I can’t stop watching.

I see the uptight Chase(aka the sexy serial killer),and she’s bossing me around, micromanaging my every move.Then I see the charismatic Chase—the one who goton that stage last night. She’s…

Smiling. Laughing. Fun?

I remember her genuine laughter at the show, and I grin. Never would I have dreamed infectious joy could come from that woman.

I mean, holy hell! She was a totally new person. What pushed her to let go? And what other Chase-shaped mysteries are hiding in there? Why do I keep thinking about her? Is she thinking about me?

Enough, Ethan.You’re assigning magical properties to her. It’s not real; this is Chase we’re talking about. The boss who’s made your career a daily obstacle course of criticism and unreachable standards. The director who scrutinizes your performances like she’s hunting for flaws with a magnifying glass.

But damn. Her smile cancels out all my frustrations in an instant.

Her hair blows slightly. It’s swept up in that signature tight ponytail, and… why do I want to grab her locks and pull on them like reins? She’s not in her usual all-black attire today. She’s poured into a pair of snug green cargo shorts that hug her curves and make her ass look incredible. That fitted white button-down is doing wonders for her breasts, and the rolled-up sleeves really showcase her tanned, toned arms.

She’s a knockout, and I want her to direct me in a porno calledRaiders of the Lost G-Spot.

Fuck! Get it together, man!

She’s brutal, heartless. How many times have you lost sleep over her insults? Hell, remember that one time? She brought you to tears. She gets off on making you feel like you aren’t good enough. She’s a sadistic drill sergeant, breaking you down to nothing. She wants you feeling worthless and talentless. Don’t fall for it.

I start tallying the reasons she's the absolute fucking worst:

1. She’s an agenda-setting dictator who can’t be spontaneous.

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