Page 22 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
“Don’t worry,” he whispers as if he’s guessed my naughty thoughts. “It’ll grow back by the end of the party.”
“Good,” I say, imagining what we would do after that.
As I do so, Alex smiles and walks toward the closet to find his dress.
Reluctantly, I go into the bathroom to work on my hair and makeup.
When I’m out a moment later, Alex is fully dressed, looking breath-taking in his tuxedo. He goes back to the bathroom to style his hair and comes out promptly. “Ready?” he asks cheerfully.
“Yes,” I say after taking a deep breath.
I wait for him to lead the way out of our bedroom, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he gazes at me and says, “Wait a minute.”
My heart races, guessing what he’s going to do.
He moves closer to me, and I find myself pressing against the wall. He runs a finger along my cheek and then down my bare shoulder, sending little shivers down my spine.
“What’re you doing?” My mouth feels dry, and I stare at his lips.
“We need to practice a bit before the act, don’t we?”
“Sure,” I whisper and feel his lips on mine. My body trembles right away, and he groans as he sucks my lips hard. Through the layers of fabrics between us, I feel his forceful heartbeat against my chest and his hot breath on my face. Soon his tongue is caressing my mouth, claiming every corner of me, roof, floor, and down my throat. My God. He is so passionate. Is it really for practice?
I’m still guessing the answer when I feel his hardened center. My God. He had that at the beach yesterday, too. What does it mean? No, it doesn’t mean anything. It must be just an instinct. I shouldn’t let it mess me up. I need to stop the fluid coming down my core.
I should stop him too and remind him it’s time we go, but I don’t because I like the delicious feeling. His hand slips between my back and the wall, and it palms my bare skin first, and then it moves down to stroke my backside. It easily finds its way under the skirt, and soon it’s kneading my ass cheek. “Goddamn. Vivi, are you wearing panties?” His voice is so gruff I get a mini orgasm just because of that.
“I am,” I rasp. “It’s a thong.”
“Damn,” he curses again as he finds the strip. “You might as well not wear any. Wait. You’ll need to change it because it’s… soaked through.”
He swipes a finger along the fabric to show me his point.
“I know,” I say embarrassedly. “I think we’d better stop practicing.”
He chuckles and pulls away. “I’m sorry, Vivi. I shouldn’t have done that. I crossed the line, but you’re too sexy in that dress.”
I put a finger on his lips. “It’s okay. Alex. No need to apologize. Touching is included in the package.”
He takes a moment to get my joke. “Right. Fate Date Deal.”
The moment we step out to the yard, I gasp. Everything has been set up already. Half dozen tents and a large gazebo draped with white chiffon fabric. The signs indicate their functions: dessert table, bar station, cake stand, reception table, etc. A dozen round tables covered with white tablecloths and shaded with silk umbrellas scatter around.
A tent at the farther end of the property shelters a stage where a jazz quartet consists of sax, electric guitar, bass, and drums are getting ready. And in the center of all, under a white canopy, is a basket spilling with hydrangea, peonies, roses, and clematis. A blue banner printed with “congratulations Alex and Vivian” in gold wraps around the flowers.
Oh, my God! Tears filled my eyes as I realize the effort and money that has been spent on the occasion. Even though most of the work is done by the planning company, it still shows how serious Alex’s parents are about the event. Moreover, there are so many guests! Certainly not just twenty as Alex suggested, but more like a hundred to me. The lawn that has been vast and empty in the past days is crowded with groups of people. Women and men in elegant attires scatter around, talking and drinking. And children chase each other, laughing and squealing.
Everything is so surreal. Is it really happening? A week ago, when I volunteered to be Alex’s fake fiancée, I had no idea I would find myself in the middle of such a grand party. I was so naive.
And I wish the engagement is real.
I’m aware of all the eyes watching us, some with true happiness, others with doubt or envy. I want to shout and tell them I’m sorry it’s all an act.
“Why are you trembling?” Alex asks with amusement in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you have the cold feet?”
I chuckle at his joke. “I’m nervous. I didn’t know I would be deceiving so many people.”
“Oh! So you’re fighting with your conscience,” he says with a chuckle. “If it makes you feel better, let me tell you this. There isn’t any difference in lying to one person versus lying to a hundred people.”
