Page 67 of Worth Every Moment
I want to ask her what the fuck she’s frightened of.What does she think I’m going to do?I step closer, taking her hands in mine. “Do you trust me?”
My heart thumps while she weighs up the question, eyes flitting over my face as though it might help her decide. “Yes.”
“Then let me take the reins. Forget your rules. Scrap the list. Let me show you what it would be like if you were the one. Can you do that?”
She hesitates, her eyes wide and dark and fixed on me like I might be able to save her, although from what I’m fucked if I know. I can’t even save myself. My father is blackmailing me, stealing my money, and coercing me to commit to someone else. Doing this for Erica will only make it worse.
But I would endure anything to help her get what she wants.
“You need to give me permission to touch you,” I continue. “To initiate it.” I release her hands and hold mine up. “I swear, I won’t do anything inappropriate. But you can’t expect this to look realistic if I can’t touch you. If I’m dating someone, and I like them, I’m going to touch them. That’s part of the joy of being with someone you like. Being able to hold them. Kiss them—”
“There’ll be no kissing.” Erica takes a tiny step back, and the movement causes the silk strap of her dress to fall down her arm on one side.
I reach out, easing the strap of her dress back up with the tip of my finger. I do it slowly,so fucking slowly, stroking the velvet of her bare skin. Erica doesn’t move. She barely breathes. The moment is charged like a thundercloud, at least on my side.
I want to run my hands over the rest of her body, kissing every inch of her skin.Fuck. I should never have suggested this fake dating thing because it’s going to be painful. I know it already. It’s the worst temptation ever. The one woman in the world who would never agree to go out with me, asking me to convince the world she’s the one.
This is fucked, and we’ve only just begun.
I raise my eyes to find she’s watching me as I break the contact between our bodies and lower my arm to my side again. She gives a shaky breath, a small, erotic-sounding gasp slipping out, and I swear it tugs right on my cock. I rub a palm over my eyes and scrape it down my face, letting out a groan to distract from the heavy thump of arousal beating through my body. “Okay. No kissing.”
“And no hotels,” she adds.
Before I have a chance to reply, the door to the ballroom swings open, and we’re exposed to the room. There are people gathered drinking champagne, and like a scene from a movie, they all turn to where we’re standing.
The MC for the evening catches sight of us and calls out, “The woman we’ve all been waiting for! Miss Erica Lefroy, ladies and gentlemen.”
23
ERICA
Aroar of applause explodes from the ballroom. With one last look at Seb, I turn to the noise and force a smile onto my face. It’s habitual to avoid smiling for the cameras because Mum banned me from doing it, telling me it didn’t look good, but tonight, I’m grinning as I step into the limelight.
The room looks incredible, with black and rose gold decorations everywhere, balloons in both colours interspersed with monochrome images of me and Seb hanging from the walls. Towers of champagne glasses are nestled on tables next to our makeup products, which is packaged in black boxes withERICA LEFROYand the infinity symbol embossed in rose gold. There’s a table with gift bags for everyone, and I can spot a few of my model friends over in the corner already digging in.I can’t believe I pulled this off.
It takes me approximately five seconds to sense Mum in the crowd. She’s tall, so it’s easy to spot her, and her dark hair is blow dried and glamorous, falling around her shoulders in waves. She’s gorgeous, but the scowl on her face makes her totally unapproachable. I wonder if it’s deliberate. Does shechoose to scowl because she looks hotter that way? Tonight, I suspect she’s actually mad.
But I don’t care. I am flouting the rules, and a perverse delight stirs in my chest at the thought of her turning up tonight to discover the branding completely revamped, and the room covered in images of me and Seb all over each other.
Fuck it. I hope it kills her to see me with someone she deems so off-brand and inappropriate. He dips to my ear, his breath hot and his voice alluring as he whispers, “Your mother is glaring at us.”
“She hates you.” I pull a false conciliatory expression. “She thinks you’re the opposite of the Erica Lefroy brand.” Seb’s eyes widen and I lean in, whispering, “She expressly banned me from having a public friendship with you. But I don’t care anymore. Now, you are my extremely public boyfriend. So yes, you have my permission to make it look real.”
His expression brightens as a delighted smirk drifts over his lips. “Right now?”
I glance over at Mum, who is sipping on champagne, but her glare is still fixed on us. When I look back at Seb, his gaze is so hot it’s like someone turned on a heater right behind his eyes. I manage to catch the ‘Wow’ that wants to trip off my tongue, because having Seb Hawkston look at you like that, even if it’s only fake, is a full body sensation of deliciousness.
“Erica?” he repeats. “Now?”
I glance at Mum again, who is making her way deliberately across the room towards us.
“Yes. Now,” I confirm, and Seb lowers his mouth to my neck, his breath brushing my skin with a warmth that makes heat pool between my legs. I tip my head back and let out a whimper, so low that no one but Seb can hear it, and I feel him smile against my skin.
“Very convincing,” he murmurs as his hand slides around to my lower back, palm pressed flat to the bare skin as he tugs me against him. This time I don’t stiffen, Isoften. His lips are against my ear when he adds, “Good girl.”
I turn molten. Nothing about this moment feels fake. My body is having a very real reaction to his voice, his hands, the feel of his hips against mine, his breath on my neck. I should probably have worn underwear because I can already feel the slickness gathering between my thighs. I’m either going to faint or start rubbing myself against him like the horny woman I am.
“Erica!” My mother’s screech is sharp, all decorum thrown to the wind as she clamps a hand about my forearm and wrenches me out of Seb’s arms. She’s so furious, she’s not even pretending to give a shit who can see us. “We need to talk.”
