Yeah, I’m a movie star. And I always get the girl. But it’s only make believe…
Until I meet her. My wife.
Our “marriage” (note the quotes) is supposed to be only for the cameras. A first date wedding, followed by ninety days of wedded “bliss” (again, more quotes). Crazy, isn’t it? I agreed to do this stupid reality television marriage gig to give my career a boost. But when I get my new gorgeous, innocent ex-Amish wife in my arms, suddenly it isn’t feeling like make-believe anymore.
Do I want to make this reality show marriage real? And if I do, what will it take to sweep my wife off her feet…and into my bed where she belongs?
Warning: This sweet and totally unrealistic insta-love story may make you actually believe in reality television (Impossible, you say? Okay, so maybe not.) Needless to say, I warn you, this is total fantasy. If you’re looking for something realistic, definitely don’t watch reality TV. Standalone. Safe. NO cheating! HEA.
Are you looking for campy, uber-naughty insta-love stories?
Looking for short but satisfying stories, with a hero who deserves his happily ever after and would never cheat on his woman?
Look no further! Avery Kaye promises to deliver exactly what you want! Short reads with plenty of sexy times, all your favorite romance tropes, and to-die-for heroes who make sure their women are satisfied...in all ways.
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SAMPLE
I run to the deep end and dive into the pool.
When my head breaks the surface, she’s grinning down at me. The sight is so spectacular my heart lurches in my chest.
“I can’t believe you just did that!” she says, laughing. I paddle to the side and splash some water at her, and she squeals and jumps back. “You’re still wearing your all your clothes. Even your shoes. You’re crazy!”
I swim toward the shallow end. “The water feels great. Come in.”
“I can’t swim.”
“It’s safe over here.” I stand, letting her see how shallow the water is. Four feet deep, at most. And just cool enough to chill the blood flow to one very prominent part of my anatomy.
She purses her lips. “Hmmm. I should probably change. These clothes—“
I splash her and this time she isn’t fast enough.
The spray douses her and she blinks at me, shocked. “Why did you do that?” she asks, breathless.
Why did I do that?
Hmmm.
I know. Because I want her to come into the pool with me.
And why do I want her to come into the pool with me?
I don’t know.
Just…because I’m having fun?
Or because she’s wearing that white t-shirt.
And it’s wet again.
What can I say, I can’t help myself.
Look at that, I can get hard in cold water.
“Your clothes are wet anyway,” I tell her.
“Thanks to you.”
“If that bitchy wardrobe director has anything to say about your clothes, I’ll handle it.”
She gives me a scowly look but it’s not a serious scowl. No, there’s a playful glimmer in her eyes. And I like it. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
She kicks off one shoe. “Is the water very cold?”
“No. It’s nice.” I bend my knees and immerse myself up to my chin.
She kicks off the other shoe and bare foots to the wide steps at the shallow end. Gripping the handrail, she dips a toe in the water. “Oh. It feels like bath water.”
“You see, I didn’t lie.” I plod through the water, moving toward her.
Kate doesn’t swim. Even though the water is shallow, I should be close to her. You know, just in case…
Okay, yeah. I’m not scrambling to her side because I think she’s going to drown.
I want to be close to her.
I want to touch her.
I want to…do a lot of things to her. With her. For her.
And, holy shit, can I just say she has the world’s most perfect tits?
I’m a fucking Neanderthal.
She plunks down two steps, sucking in a gasp when the water hits her thighs. I wish she wasn’t wearing pants. Or that shirt. Or anything else. “Yikes it feels a little colder now.”
“Just go for it. Jump in. That’s the way to do it.”
Looking cold, but absolutely scrumptious, she grimaces. “Maybe I can swim later.” She shuffles around to climb out.
Oh no, you don’t. I plow through the water and sweep her into my arms.
She shrieks, wraps her little arms around my neck and flattens her sexy little self against me, and my whole body goes hot and hard instantly.
Good decision.
Maybe.
“Hold your breath,” I say then let my knees buckle. We emerge a split second later, and I swear the heat pouring off my body is going to make half the pool water evaporate.
Our gazes lock.
Yes, that was definitely a good decision.
Her lush body is wrapped around mine.
Our mouths are inches from each other. Inches.
Her lips are parted ever so slightly.
And they’re right there.
Waiting to be kissed.
Everything in me is screaming, my woman.
Mine.
Kate isn’t my pretend wife; she’s my real wife.
Mine to keep.
I press my lips to hers and the world starts spinning out of control.
She’s every bit as sweet as I remember. Maybe even more.
I trace the seam of her mouth with my tongue and she trembles and tightens her hold on me. Fighting the urge to rip off her clothes and consummate our fake marriage, right here, in the fucking pool, I brush my mouth over hers, back and forth, back and forth. When I feel her try to pull away, I cup the back of her head in my hand, fingers tangled in her wet hair.
Decision made.
Kate is my wife.
Mine.
She flattens her hands on my chest…and shoves. Hard.
Then she scrambles away, practically falling into the water.
“Kate!” I call after her.
She keeps thrashing toward the steps. “I can’t…” Once she’s out of the pool, she turns to me. “I can’t do this. I can’t pretend.”
“This isn’t pretend, Kate.”
Hugging herself, she shakes her head and dashes into the house, leaving me standing in the pool, wishing I hadn’t just tasted heaven.
I have three months to make sure she doesn’t want to leave me.
I’m not going to wait until the end to try convincing her. Hell no.
I’ve found the woman of my dreams. On this stupid television show.
Now, how to make her see it isn’t all fantasy?