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Fiancée For Sale by Lila Kane (11)


 

 

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Brianna

 

 

I didn’t mind when Michael insisted we leave early. His sister, Liv, had sat at our table, entertaining us with stories most of the evening. But even though we got along great, I found it hard to focus because Michael was there. Right next to me, his hand on my thigh. Or fingers kneading my neck at the base.

Every movement was erotic. My whole body came alive with his touch. It took everything I had to sit still, though I still squirmed in my seat.

Once they’d served dinner, auctioned a few items and started the music, we’d both lost our patience. Michael said our goodbyes, joking that he wanted to get his fiancée home. It was so easy to play along.

Our fantasy is becoming our truth.

Michael practically drags me to the limo, and I laugh as I race to keep up. Once we’re inside, I take off my heels.

I look up to find Michael staring at my legs, his gaze that of a predator. I see the hunger in his eyes. I can practically feel his need throbbing in the back seat of our limo. He wants me, and I want him too.

“You’re not changing your mind, are you?” he asks, voice low and husky.

“No.”

It’s only one word, but my voice doesn’t waver.

Michael grips my waist and pulls me on his lap. I gasp at the suddenness of the motion. The leg of the dress rips, and my mouth drops open.

“Oh, no—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Michael says, and then captures my mouth before I can respond.

His tongue presses between my lips, and I part them to give him access. One of his hands grips my chin, holding me captive as he ravishes my mouth. The other presses against my back, keeping me secure on his lap.

I undo his bowtie, trying to keep my hands steady even though adrenalin rushes through me like waves in the ocean. I can’t slow down, can’t stop myself from touching every part of him. I slide my fingers under his jacket, rubbing over his pecks and then his shoulders.

He groans low in his throat and the sound shoots a pang of longing straight to my center. Oh, God…I need him now.

My fingers fumble with his shirt, but he grasps my hands. “The car ride isn’t that long.”

“Then maybe we should go around the block…a few times,” I breathe. “I need…I need—”

“What do you need, baby?”

The endearment practically makes me come. “I need you.”

His eyes heat. “That’s what I wanted to hear. Patience.”

“How can you say that? I can’t wait—”

“It’s just up there.”

He uses the next block to run his fingers up my spine and then lock around the base of my neck again. He holds me still as he kisses me. I feel it all over, from my toes up.

The limo slows and I reluctantly climb off of Michael’s lap. He’s out first, reaching a hand to help me out.

I’m self-conscious of the slit in my dress. It exposes my leg even further, almost all the way up to my panties.

His eyes catch the length of my leg. “Brianna,” he growls.

Something about the pure animalistic nature of it, the need in his eyes that says he wants me, plain and simple, turns me on so much. Chet was never like that. Half the time I thought sex was a chore for him. I don’t know if anyone has ever looked at me with so much hunger in their eyes.

He yanks me to him. I can feel his erection, hot and ready for me. “Let’s get inside. Now.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. We race into the lobby, and I’m filled with euphoria and longing, a heady mix that’s making me wonder why I never let go before. Why I never let myself experience fun.

We step into the elevator alone, and once the doors are shut, he’s on me. “This elevator has been the bane of my existence,” he says, voice rough.

I blink up at him, torn between laughing and moaning. He presses me against the elevator wall, his body pinning mine to the surface.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, arching my neck so he can kiss my collarbone.

“It’s not important.”

I yank at his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, and then go for the buttons again. This time he doesn’t stop me. But it’s hard to unclothe him with our bodies smashed together.

“I need you naked,” I pant.

The elevator dings, opening to the apartment, but we’re too caught up in each other to move right away.

Michael drags his mouth back to mine, his tongue plunging inside. His right hand slides down my neck and grips my breast, kneading it through the silky fabric of my gown.

When his phone rings, I’m too disoriented for a moment to figure out what it is.

“Shut up,” he growls, reaching into his pocket. He must press a button, because the ringing stops.

He grips me around the waist and pulls me out of the elevator. I expect him to guide me to his room, but instead, he turns me around and puts his lips on my shoulder. It makes me shiver. He doesn’t stop as he unzips my dress.

The material whispers down my body and pools on the floor.

I’m wearing a lacy red bra with matching panties—my most expensive and sexiest lingerie. In fact, it’s the only thing I have that’s not mostly practical. I can tell instantly what Michael thinks of it.

He exhales, eyes tracing the swell of my breasts, and then dropping lower. It’s like my body is on fire everywhere his eyes roam.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Another thing so unlike Chet.

Michael steps up to me and runs his hands across my abdomen. One curves around to grab my ass, and the other dips into my panties, seeking the wetness that’s already pooling there.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Already so wet.”

I feel his cock jerk against my hip.

Then his phone rings again.

“Damn it,” he curses. “Sorry—just ignore it.”

I do, only able to feel his hands on me and hear the heavy beating of my heart.

Then his phone dings with a message.

“Shit.” He whips it out of his pocket. “Who the hell needs me so bad?”

My lips curve. “I do.”

He grins, but his smile fades when he looks at the screen of his phone.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“It’s Derek.”

I struggle to focus. “Is he okay?”

“He said someone found out about us. There’s a story—someone claiming this engagement isn’t real.”

My stomach clenches. Shit. Who would have said something? Hardly anyone knows the truth.

Michael lifts his head. His eyes lock on mine. “I didn’t tell anyone about this.”

“Neither did I. Well, Deb—but that’s it.”

His jaw clenches and he drops his phone in his pocket. “She told someone.”

“No. No way. She wouldn’t.”

“How did they find out then?” Michael shoves a hand through his hair. “Someone has a big mouth.”

I yank my dress off the floor and hold it against my chest. “Deb wouldn’t have said anything. I trust her.”

His eyes flash at me. “Seems like you have a history of trusting the wrong people.”

It would’ve hurt less if he slapped me. Rubbing my mistake with Chet in my face makes every ounce of compassion I thought he had disappear.

“I can’t believe you said that,” I whisper.

I can’t believe I almost slept with him. I’ve only known Michael two weeks and I was about to make a huge mistake. Again.

When will I ever learn?

Michael takes out his phone once more and puts it to his ear. “Now I’ve got to do damage control.”

I swallow hard, but my voice still shakes when I respond. “I’ll get out of your way, then.”

I don’t wait for an answer, just head straight for my bedroom. I lock the door behind me and then sit on the bed. Numb.

What had I been thinking? Not just tonight, but in signing the contract? I’m always getting myself into messes like these and never learning from my mistakes. Tossing the dress on the bed, I stand.

I’m not going to wallow. I’m going to take a shower, get a good night of sleep, and then fix this situation tomorrow morning.

I don’t need Michael’s money and I certainly don’t need his accusations.

With that goal, I finish undressing and step into the bathroom.

 

 

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