Chapter 10
PIPER
“My lady … I’m gonna fucketh you. Long and hard, till you screameth my name like a good wench.”
Brody’s topless above me, only wearing his thirst-tastic gray sweatpants, bracing his weight through his corded forearms as he murmurs Shakespeare into my ear.
Who knew English could be this hot?
We’re lying in front of a log fire, my back cushioned by a bearskin rug with such a thick, soft texture it’s like I’m floating. My pajamas are still on, which is annoying, and I twist beneath him to get more contact. I want him to rip them off with his teeth.
He chuckles. “You wanteth this?”
Then he grinds his perfect cock against my needy pussy, and I gasp.
“Verrily, sirrah! Right thereth!”
My orgasm is already so close, it’s hovering at the edges of my skin, just waiting for the final spark to make me burst into flames.
I grab at my pajamas, but they’re stuck in place. I need them off. Now. Or I’m going to lose my mind.
The fabric is hot under my fingers. And hard. Like warm skin stretched tight over muscle.
Now I can’t move my arm anymore. Something’s gripping my wrist like a vise.
My mind tumbles, falling through space and time as it struggles to work out where I am while still clinging to the dream as it rushes away from me.
Then I wake with a start, crashing into a reality so mortifying I want to die.
Right noweth.
I’m lying half on top of Brody. His T-shirt is pushed all the way up to his neck, and he’s holding my wrist to keep my hand from grabbing his …
“Oh, my fucking god!” I cry and leap off him so fast I fly off the other side of the bed and land with a loud thump on the floor.
A head appears. “You okay?”
“I am so sorry. Shit, Brody, I attacked you. I assaulted you. I defiled you!”
One eyebrow raises. “Defiled?”
He’s so hot with his hair all messy and his eyes a little puffy with sleep. But I can’t think about that right now. I did a bad thing. A very bad thing.
A thing he was trying to stop …
“Yes! Verily!” I reply without thinking. “I mean, very. One hundred percent. Absolutely. I mauled you!”
The corners of his mouth twitch.
“It’s not funny, Brody! I was out of control! Invading your personal space! Violating your boundaries like a …” Sex maniac?
“You were asleep,” he says. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“It doesn’t make it okay!” I run my fingers through my hair and tug the roots with embarrassment and frustration. “Why couldn’t I just sleep talk? Or walk? Why did I have to … sleep hump?”
Brody’s laugh is warm. “It’s no biggie. And you do sleep talk.”
Oh. My. God.
A memory of me asking him to fuck me surfaces from the jumble of my fading dream.
No. Oh no, no, no, no, no!
All the blood drains from my face as I stare at him, too petrified to ask what I said.
“Don’t worry, nothing incriminating.”
“Are you sure?” I whisper.
He nods. “It’s just a stream of mumbled nonsense, punctuated by a few English words.”
“What kind of words?”
His forehead furrows. “Last night, you yelled ‘vision’ really loudly.”
“Vision?”
“Yep.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nope, just vision. Do you know what you were dreaming about?”
I shake my head. “No clue. What else did I shout?”
“Nothing more last night. About ten minutes ago, you shouted, ‘Right now!’ and it woke me up.”
I drop my head with a groan. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was—” He clears his throat. “It’s fine.”
Scrambling to my feet, I hastily grab clothes from the dresser and head to the door. “I’m going to take a cold shower, then go downstairs,” I say to the floor, unable to meet Brody’s eyes. “Meet you there?”
“Sure. But it’s okay, Piper. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did.” I meet his gaze. “What if it had been the other way around?”
His face falls, and he looks stricken. “I … I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”
“No way. Absolutely not. I’m the creeper here, not you.”
“Don’t call yourself that,” he says, his tone sharpening. “You’re not. And there’s a massive difference in strength between a man and a woman. I had no trouble stopping you.”
Stopping you.
“I’ll see you downstairs in a bit,” I mutter, then run away before he can reply.
My cold shower lasts less than ten seconds before I relent and turn the heat up. But even though my body can’t stand the punishment I want to inflict on it, my mind makes me suffer enough.
Eventually, I tell my brain to shut up. Yes, I’m embarrassed as hell, and yes, I’m annoyed that my subconscious is hot for Brody, but it’s not going anywhere.
He’s not interested in me, and I have no desire—wrong word—wish to be with anyone who doesn’t want what I want: stability, structure, a family.
My hormones just need to get with the program and remember what we signed up for—a fake relationship that suits both our needs.
Only now my other needs are screaming to be met.
I wish I’d packed my rechargeable toyfriend. However, there’s no way I could have used him with Brody in the same room.
This is going to be a very long few days without an orgasm …
Switching the shower off, I get dressed and carefully apply makeup. If we’re photographed today, then I need to be looking my best. Brody hasn’t mentioned anything about Marv, so I’m hoping he’s still in New York and we’ve got a few days to ourselves to just hang out and chill with my family.
But as I reach the top of the stairs, my hand pauses on the rail. There’s a male voice downstairs that most definitely doesn’t belong to my dad.
“So, I said to him, ‘Ryan, you may be one of the biggest stars on the planet, but you don’t have the magic of Brody King. He’s gonna eclipse you like a freaking supernova!”
My heart sinks.
“Oh my gosh,” Mom replies. “Do you really know—”
“Piper!” Marv cries as I enter the kitchen. “The golden girl!”
“There she is!” Mom exclaims. “How did you sleep, honey?”
“Hopefully not too well,” Mia says with a wink.
She’s sitting at the breakfast bar next to Marv, with a pot of freshly brewed coffee and a plate of cinnamon cookies in front of them.
On the other side of Marv, a young woman scrambles off her seat and stands, staring at me like I’m the firing squad.
She’s smaller than me, with wavy blonde hair a little shorter than mine, and looks like she’s straight out of college.
“This is Cara,” Mom says to me. “Marv’s assistant.”
I force a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she replies immediately. “I—” She glances nervously at Mom and Mia, as if not sure whether they know Brody and me are faking it.
“So,” I say brightly. “Where are you staying?”
“The Hideaway Hotel,” Marv replies. “It’s cute, but the coffee’s not as good as Mrs Locke’s.”
Mom preens. “You must call me Erica, Mr DeVille.”
Marv throws his arms wide. “And you must call me Marv. I’m only Mr DeVille to lawyers and my enemies. Which, y’know, are one and the same in showbusiness.”
Mom giggles like a teenager, and I look around for Dad.
“I’m so sorry we missed your husband, Erica,” Marv continues.
“Oh yes, you missed him by less than a minute.”
Cara blushes, which tells me they were waiting until Dad had gone before knocking on the door.
“You must stay for dinner tonight. Both of you,” Mom insists. “You can meet the whole family.”
“We’d love to. Wouldn’t we, Cara?”
She glances nervously between me and her boss.
“Don’t be shy, honey,” Mom says, patting her arm. “I promise we won’t bite.”
There’s a thundering of feet on the stairs, then Brody skids into the kitchen, his hair still a mess and his shirt untucked.
If Brody’s eyes were lasers, then Marv would currently be lying in two pieces on the linoleum floor.
“What are you doing here?” he demands.
Marv, with the confidence of a man who knows he can play chicken with death and win, holds up a cookie. “Partaking of the best breakfast in Hideaway. Want one?”
“No. I said, what are you—”
“Brody, sweetheart, you and my baby girl must be hungry,” Mom interrupts. “Let me make you some eggs.” She picks a spotless apron from a hook on the wall and puts it on. “Bacon? Pancakes?”
Brody runs a hand through his hair and takes a breath. “Thank you, Mrs L, but I can cook it.”
“Nonsense, honey. You’re my guest. And remember, call me Erica. Piper, you want the same? Mia? You ate this morning?”
Mom doesn’t wait for a reply, bustling around the kitchen with the efficiency of a short-order cook.
“Thank you,” Mia replies. “I’ll take whatever’s on offer. It’s going to be a long day.”
“It certainly is with everything you and Mr De—Marv have planned.”
“What?” Brody and I say in unison, glancing between Mia and Marv. Meanwhile, Cara is staring at the floor like she wishes a sinkhole would appear and swallow her up.
Mom comes up to us and places a hand on each of our cheeks. “It’s okay. I know your little secret.”
Brody and I exchange a look. How on earth is Mom being so cool about us faking a relationship?
“Mr—Marv told me you’re having a little hiccup in your career and could use a bit of help landing a very important job.”
Neither Brody nor I say a word. I’m still trying to process the fact she seems so happy about our subterfuge.
“He’s explained everything,” Mom continues. “And it makes perfect sense.”
“It does?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“Yes, of course. The world needs to know who you really are. A small-town boy with the sweetest small-town girl on your arm. And where better to show you both off than here, in Hideaway, the town built on true love.”
Oh god. She doesn’t know.
“So, Marv and I are making sure you get seen at all the right places, and Mia will take the photos to share with the world. It’s going to be so exciting!”
I can’t criticize my mom when she’s genuinely this thrilled to help Brody out. She lives for her family, Hideaway Harbor, and true love, so we’re ticking all her boxes. But this also means that Marv just became Mom’s biggest enabler.
Or is it the other way around? All I do know is that Brody and I are going to be followed everywhere by at least four people. More, the moment Mom gets on the phone to her friends.