As soon as we’re in my apartment my hands are all over Veronica’s body. I just can’t seem to help myself. I silently curse myself, wondering why I have no self-control when it comes to her. I just need to see and feel that sweet pussy of hers again.
But she doesn’t seem to want to let me off easy.
When I kiss her she kisses me back but then she pulls away and says, “So, next weekend, huh? When were you going to tell me?”
I grab her ass and squeeze it hard, pulling her in close to me.
“I’m the one who asks the questions around here,” I tell her. “I bought you fair and square.”
“Yes, you did,” she says, her body tightening up and her face looking a bit surprised.
Now I feel bad. I didn’t mean to scare her. I just have no control over my emotions and I don’t want to show her what she’s doing to me.
I hadn’t even planned to bring her back here to my place. To have sex with her again. But ever since I saw her shape accentuated by the dress she wore to the restaurant– and, I have to admit, the beautiful way when she handled my father and helped me out at dinner– it’s all I can think about and all I want to do.
“Is this weekend alright with you?” I ask her. “I have a friend who is a wedding planner and another friend who manages the local branch of the Ritz-Carlton so I thought we could do it there and I pre-arranged everything already.”
“Really?” she asks, looking up into my eyes. “The Ritz-Carlton?”
For a second I start to think that maybe we’re on the same page emotionally. Could she be actually falling for me like I am actually falling for her?
No, I tell myself. It’s just that every little girl dreams of getting married at the Ritz-Carlton. She’s obviously more in love with the whole fake wedding affair than she is with me.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she says, and then falters. “I clearly haven’t told my parents about any of this and I don’t think it would be a good idea to.”
“No,” I tell her. “Probably not.”
She hasn’t even told her parents about me so she can’t be feeling for me the same things I am for her.
“So, I was wondering how that’s gonna work?” she asks, looking up into my eyes.
Damn. Those green eyes of hers leave me weak in the knees.
“Oh. Because you need parents at the wedding, of course,” I tell her. “I’ll see who I can pay to be there. Don’t worry about it.”
“So, you don’t think your dad will be able to figure out they’re not my real parents?” she asks me.
So many questions. She really has thought of everything. Before I can answer, she continues.
“I was also wondering if were actually going to sign the marriage license,” she asks. “Will the officiant ask us to? Will we just not file it or what if your dad looks at some public records to make sure we did? I’m not sure how that’s supposed to work…”
I realize that she’s actually wanting this to go well for me, which is touching.
“Don’t worry about those details,” I tell her, but then I realize that I haven’t worried about them enough myself.
Perhaps my dad is right and I’m completely incompetent, unfit to run a company let alone manage a fake wedding.
“Look,” I tell her, trying to brush off my confused feelings. “One way or another it’ll work out. I think my dad just wants me to get hitched. Once he sees it happen, he’ll hand over the company to me. He doesn’t care too much about the details. In fact, I think he’s beginning to go a bit senile and he is leaving complete control of the company up to his business partner Charles, which I don’t think is a good idea now that my friend Dan and I have looked at the records. Something’s just not adding up.”
I shake my head, convinced of it.
“But anyway,” I continue, to get back to the issue at hand. “Worst case, if we have to, I guess we’ll file the marriage certificate to prove that it’s legal and then after…”
I drift off, not wanting to say the words “after he passes away.”
As if reading my mind, she takes my hand, which gives me the strength to continue.
“Afterwards, we’ll just get divorced if necessary. Is that included in my two million, or how much extra will that be?”
She looks up at me and then down at the floor.
“That’s fine,” she says. “You’ve definitely paid enough. Whatever you need is included in the price.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, taking her into my arms. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I just really wish I knew what was going on with my dad’s business. It’s really bothering me and I can’t figure it out.”
“Well, I meant what I said at dinner about looking at the books,” she says. “I might be able to figure something out for you.”
“So, you’re really a mathematician?” I ask her. “You’re majoring in mathematics?”
She laughs and it’s so contagious that I do too.
“Yep.”
“Wow,” I say, scratching my head. “So I’m fake marrying a real math nerd.”
We both laugh again.
I look at her green eyes and get lost in them despite myself. I never fucking thought I’d end up with this type of girl. In high school I was a popular jock and I never even talked to the academic nerds. But I guess life can take strange twists and turns. And I’m very glad that life lead me to her, no matter the unique journey it took to force us together.
I kiss her without realizing what I’m doing. She kisses me back. Then I realize that I’m standing here talking to myself about “ending up” with her when this is just fake. Even though this moment, this kiss, this touch, all feel very fucking real.
To rip myself out of the crazy trance I’m in, I turn on my computer and show Veronica the QuickBooks report that I already had up on my screen earlier. Dan had been trying to figure something out but hadn’t been able to and I had to rush off to dinner.
“It seems that something is off with these numbers here,” I tell her, pointing. “I worked on renting out this property here and I know it brought in more money than that. I really think there’s some money missing.”
“Okay, how much was the property rent?” she asks, becoming business-like and efficient.
I have to admit that seeing her in this mode is sexy. It turns me on but I try hard to concentrate on the data before me. I answer her questions to the best of my ability, sometimes looking up other records.
“I feel like such an idiot,” I finally confess to her. “I guess my dad’s right and I don’t really know much about the business at all.”
She puts her hand on mine and looks directly into my eyes.
“That’s nonsense and you know it. It sounds like your dad didn’t give you much opportunity to learn about the business and then he punishes you for not knowing about it.”
“I guess it’s a pretty accurate statement,” I tell her.
“Maybe he’s afraid of competition.”
“Could be. Or he’s just a perfectionist who thinks no one can do it the right away except for him.”
“Well either way,” she says, with a shrug. “Whatever his reasons are for being that way, you should just focus on your strengths. Look at all the information you did know when I was asking you. It’s not even your business yet and you already know so much about it.”
She’s right. It’s not my business yet. And I like how she says yet.
As soon as she and I tie the knot, it will be all mine.
“I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am for you,” I tell her. “You’re really helping me so much in this whole situation.”
“Well, I could say the same about you,” she says.
Now it’s my turn to take hold of her hand. I can tell there’s something that she wants to tell me but that she isn’t sure whether she should.
“You know, I never really planned to sell my virginity,” she starts out, cautiously. “But I honestly can’t say I regret it.”
“It was pretty hot, wasn’t it?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she agrees. “It sure was. Definitely the best way to have lost it.”
“So why did you end up selling it?” I ask, prodding more answers from her the way she had just done from me with regard to my dad’s business.
“My mom’s sick,” she says, a sad look coming over her pretty eyes and her entire face. “She has a rare form of cancer and this money is paying for her treatments.”
“I see.”
Shit.
Suddenly I feel like a huge douche. If I had only known what she needed the money for, I could have funded it. Sure, what we have is nice together and I do need a fake bride, but I had no idea what she was going through.
“I’m such a selfish asshole,” I tell her. “I didn’t even ask about your own part of this bargain and why you’re doing it.”
“Yes you did,” she says. “You asked right now.”
“That’s true.”
I look her up and down and want to take her right now, so badly. But she turns back to the computer, business-like again.
“Let’s finish this up so we can perhaps move on to other things,” she says.
I like the way she says it: flirtatiously and daring.
“Sounds good to me.”
She gets on a calculator and run some numbers.
“Yep,” she says. “I found the leak.”
“The leak?” I ask. “Yes. All your money is leaking and here’s where it’s going. To this account.”
She points to a bank account number that I copy down.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “Now I have more proof to give to my dad. Hopefully he’ll listen now.”
“Let me just print out this report here so he can look and see how I came to find out this information,” she says.
“Sounds good to me.”
She bends over to take paper out of the printer. I can’t help myself: I put my hands all over her voluptuous ass again. When she’s placed the papers on the desk, I grab her hand and take her into the bedroom. I’m kissing her, running my hands through her hair, pulling her close to me and tearing her clothes off.
I want her so bad it’s eating me up inside. I hate feeling this vulnerable. I wonder if she’s feeling for me the same things that I’m feeling for her.
And then I remember that this is just a game to her. It’s all fake, which I can’t really fault her for since it’s exactly what I’m paying for her to do. I foolishly thought she was beginning to have feelings for me. But I had heard her tell her friend she was going to dinner with some other guy. So, I can’t let my heart get too involved.
“Get down on your knees,” I tell her.
“Yes sir,” she says, and immediately she’s down on the floor.
I like how submissive she becomes for me, after taking charge so boldly with the company’s accounts just a few minutes ago.
I open the drawer to my bedside stand and take out a condom and a pair of handcuffs.
“You’ve been a bad girl and you need to be punished,” I tell her.
“Yes, I do, sir,” she says, a gleam in her eye as if she was waiting for this.
But she doesn’t know how serious I am, how mad it makes me that she would be with another guy, even though we’re only fake engaged.
I’m about to show her not to mess with my heart. Or her body will never forget it.