Page 21 of Faking it with the Billionaire
Well, that, or she’s a fantastic actress, but I doubt it’s the latter, given the first few seconds of our lips locked together.
The pads of her fingers move down to the hem of my shirt, teasing my hips and stomach, her fingernails dragging over my skin, causing my insides to warm.
I pull her tighter, my cock throbbing from just a simple kiss.
I break apart and swear I hear her whimper. Her eyelids flutter open, and her cheeks are red. She’s slightly breathless. “What was that for? No one is around,” she says. Her demeanor is soft and sweet, unlike what I’m used to being faced with when she’s throwing questions at me. It’s usually an interrogation.
“I needed to make sure that you could play the part of my girlfriend. And I didn’t want our first kiss to be in front of everyone.”
“That means there will be a second,” she whispers.
I don’t answer. I leave her standing there while I head out the door, where my driver is already waiting for me. “Morning, Mitchell,” I say as he opens the back door for me, and I slide into the backseat.
* * *
The day goes without a hitch, and by evening, I’m hosting a gathering with the guys. Mostly, it’s the team, but there are a few friends I’ve made over the years whom I invite, including Levi Luxenberg, who happens to own the Luxenberg hotel chain.
We met a few years back when we shared a private jet after a scheduling mix-up, and the rest is history.
We’re gathered in the backyard, a bonfire roaring to life as the guys sit around. Levi brought Clare, his wife, but they left the kids at home with a sitter. She’s nestled on his lap as they share one of the Adirondack chairs.
His arms are wrapped around her waist possessively. He doesn’t need to worry; none of the guys would steal her away, but if she were single, he would have quite the competition.
“So, where’s the hot new nanny?” Jasper quips, giving me a wink.
“What’s that look for?” Noah asks. He’s one of three goaltenders on our team. His job is to communicate, and I swear it goes well beyond the ice when he’s reading body language. Not that it’s much of a secret, either, with my younger brother mocking me.
“She’s busy in the house,” I say, trying my best not to turn around and glance over my shoulder at the open window shades. I want to look for her, find her, drag her outside, and show everyone that she’s mine.
Even if it’s pretend, it doesn’t feel that way.
“So, I hear this new ‘nanny’is hot.” Owen grins and uses air quotes. “Wait, is this the chick we met at practice when she tackled Jasper to the ground? Is she single?”
“She is recently off the market,” I say and clear my throat. The flames of the fire flicker upwards toward the sky. I shift uncomfortably from the heat and pull my chair back a step.
“What was she doing at your hockey practice?” Clare asks. “Have you met the elusive boyfriend?” She’s watching me and curious. Her eyes tighten, and she glances at the house. “She’s coming outside. I’ll ask her about him—”
I open my mouth to stop her, but it’s too late.
“Join us!” Clare shouts with a friendly wave and beckons her over.
I glance over my shoulder, and Emerson has a beer bottle in hand. She stalks methodically toward us, and I stand, heading over toward her.
“What—” Before she can finish her question, I scoop her up into my arms, carrying her back to my seat, showing everyone that she’smine.
“You’re the boyfriend?” Clare says, dumbfounded as she stares at me, her mouth agape. “I’m such an idiot.”
Emerson takes a swig of her beer. One arm is gingerly wrapped around my neck from carrying her. “Telling everyone about us?” Emerson asks with a sly smile. “I thought we were going to do it together.”
She stares straight into my soul, her gaze never leaving my face, and I’m sure I have the stupidest grin known to man covering my lips.
Playing the role of her boyfriend makes me way too happy. I shouldn’t be playing with fire, but what’s the worst that could happen? I’ve already been burned.
“How does this work?” Owen asked, leaning forward, a little too curious about our situation. “Does he pay you for ‘nanny’services and girlfriend services?”
“Give me your beer,” I growl at Emerson, prepared to chuck it at him.
She raises an eyebrow. I don’t know how she does it, but the gesture is sexy. “Why?” she asks, holding it away from me, just out of arm’s reach, teasing me.
