Chapter 10
Natalie
We left Sam and AJ’s house not long after the proposal.
I hugged all the women goodbye and floated out to the truck on a high.
I may have never been lucky in love, but I had always been a romantic at heart.
I was the reason Hallmark movies would never stop being produced.
I was the girl with the big stack of romance novels on her bedside table.
Those restaurants that charge way more on Valentine’s Day because they put a red rose and a candle on the table? Yeah, I was their target market.
Jake helped me into the truck as he did before.
God, I wished he would talk to me the way he did before we left.
Lean into me. Kiss me and talk dirty until I was just a melted puddle of horny goo.
I hadn’t expected the words to come out of his mouth, but once they had I was a goner.
Not only did we get along, but we had chemistry and heat.
He smartly closed the door and hustled over to the driver’s side.
We got out onto the highway, and he cleared his throat. “So, what did you think of my work family?”
“They were all so nice. And being there for a proposal…” I sighed.
“You love all that mushy stuff huh?”
I smirked. “Why do you think I asked you if you believe in true love that first day at the library?”
His eyes darted from the road to my face and back again. “Honestly? I was hoping you were hitting on me.” Ha! If only he knew what ran through my head when I saw him.
“I can be doing two things at once.”
A slow smile spread over his lips, and he adjusted his position in his seat. “You are adorable, you know that?”
My toes curled in my shoes and my heart did a little happy dance. “Do you mean adorable as in adorable, or adorable as in beyond help?”
He reached out and took my hand in his. “Just adorable.”
******
“It’s still early, do you want to have dinner at my place? We can debrief how our first outing went.”
“Sure.” My enthusiasm level was a hundred and fifty percent too high. I wasn’t ready to be away from him yet. I wasn’t ready to go back to my place, where the only sweet man was in a book, and I didn’t have his hand in mine.
A few minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of a small ranch-style house. The front door was painted a pretty shade of brick red and there was a scattering of fall leaves across the lawn.
I walked into his house for the first time, leaving my heels at the door, and padded barefoot on the hardwood.
I shamelessly snooped while he ordered a pizza on his phone.
It was cozy but renovated to be open concept.
The dining table acted as a barrier, breaking up the kitchen and the living room.
The walls were painted a soft gray. There was a bowl of apples on the counter and a broom leaning against the wall.
It was clean and functional. The vibe invited guests to curl up on the couch and watch a movie.
Leather. Plaid. Wood. It had hunting cabin vibes but without all the taxidermy.
As far as bachelor pads went it was a ten out of ten.
I couldn’t help but do a little redecorating in my head though.
“Alright, pizza should be here in a half hour or so.” Jake grabbed some plates from the kitchen and set them on the table.
I stood behind the couch and leaned against it, giving him my sweetest smile. “If we are going to sell this whole marriage thing we might need to make a few changes around here.”
He looked around his living room and his brow dropped. “What’s wrong with it?”
I picked up a particularly beat-up-looking throw pillow. “Nothing’s wrong. I think it could just use a woman’s touch.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. God, he had a nice chest. “I can only imagine the amount of pink in here once you got done with it.” He was trying for a hard line, but his eyes were locked on the peak of cleavage at the top of my dress.
He braced his hands on the dining room table and studied me.
Muscles, forearms, veins. Ugh, gimmie, gimmie, gimmie.
There was a dining table and a couch between us, but I swear I could feel the heat of his stare from here.
My breathing picked up and I pushed further.
I studied the pillow I held between my thumb and forefinger and flashed him a pageant-queen smile. “Surely, we can compromise. Husband.”
His eyes heated and he stood to his full height. I could sense every move he made as he took a few achingly slow steps towards me.
I hugged the ugly pillow to my chest and took an exaggerated step back.
His eyes swept over me. Assessing, studying, and apparently wanting. Lusting after him but keeping my hands to myself was tough. Knowing he wanted me too made it damn near impossible not to say fuck it and get naked. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”
An honest-to-God giggle escaped my throat, and I took another step back. “Nowhere.” I injected innocence into my voice even as my heart started to pound.
He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he continued to hold me in his stare.
He took a deliberate step in my direction and that giggle bubbled to the surface again.
I’d goaded him. Turned the nice guy into a predator to my prey.
The idea of him chasing me. Catching me.
Maybe pinning me down or bending me over. Fuck it was intoxicating.
There was a flutter between my legs, and I moved the pillow behind my back, pushing him even more.
He faked a move to the left and then darted right.
I saw through his ruse and ran so the couch stayed between us.
“What are you doing, Jake?” My heart did one of those flip moves that you feel from your stomach to your sternum.
“Just saving my pillow from being turned pink and frilly.”
“Pink, ha, I was thinking Robin’s-egg blue.”
His eyes were on me. Tracking me, hot and predatory.
Heat grew between my legs. My clothes felt foreign and unwanted against my skin. “Sequins. Maybe some glitter.” We were circling the couch now. I moved backward at a slow pace, and he strode towards me, gaining on me with each step.
Without warning, he pounced. I was tackled, landing on my back on the couch with a wall of muscle pinning me down.
My dress, which was long enough to cover my ankles, was now bunched high on my thighs.
I moved the pillow over my head and away from his reach, but I’d lost interest in the little game of keep-away.
He could wallpaper his whole house in plaid for all I cared so long as his hips didn’t move from where they were pressing me onto the couch.
I hadn’t come here planning for anything to happen.
We were friends. He wasn’t in a great place mentally, but maybe whatever was flashing in his eyes didn’t have to change any of that.
We could just have a little fun. I moved my leg fractionally to the side allowing his hips to slip further between my thighs.
He lifted his hips as he reached for the pillow but when he caught my eye he settled them back down, moving closer. The bulge in his jeans rubbed against my center.
My eyes fluttered shut. “Jake?” I pushed my hips up, chasing the sweet friction of the denim against the thin lace of my panties. In an instant, the game was over, and the motivation had changed.
He planted a hand on my thigh and started to move against me.
Up and down. Hard to soft. His forehead came to rest against mine.
I kept my eyes shut, too lost in sensation to divert precious nerve endings to anywhere other than the bundle between my thighs.
I was surrounded by the heat and the smell of him.
Some kind of body wash that was probably named Arctic Panty Dropper or Citrus Hunk.
His breath skated over my neck and my ear, teasing erogenous zones I didn’t know I had.
I could feel my nipples all but cutting their way out of my dress and I knew I was close.
I was sprinting for the finish line at record-breaking speed.
“God, Natalie if you don’t stop moving like that I’m going to come.” His words sent me over the edge. I bucked under him as warmth spread from my thrown-back head to my curled toes.
His hips stilled and he kissed me through my finish, not getting one of his own. His chest rose and fell, and I badly wanted to wrap my legs around him and have him inside me.
I couldn’t believe we had done that. Dry humping on the couch like a couple of teenage virgins. I was flushed, soaking wet, and struggling to remember which part of our marriage was supposed to be fake.
After a moment to catch our breath, he moved back and met my eyes.
“Natalie I—” The doorbell rang, saving me from hearing whatever it was he was going to say.
“That must be the pizza.” His voice came out in a mumble and his eyes didn’t come back to meet mine.
He stumbled towards the door, adjusting the front of his jeans as he went.
I didn’t have to guess what he was going to say.
If we were hoping to keep things as uncomplicated as a fake marriage could be, we may have failed epically.