Just Be Her Page 17

  “Look, nothing needs to change,” George reasoned. “You’ve had to keep up appearances for the staff anyway. You just have to be a little more careful now.”

  “Right.” Oren nodded and threw back the rest of the amber liquid in his glass. “We just keep pretending. How hard could it be?”

  His hazel eyes bored into mine again, rendering me speechless. With George in the room, I couldn’t wrap my arms around him like I so badly wanted to. And I couldn’t agree with him either. Because I wasn’t so sure we were pretending anymore.

  Oren placed the empty glass on his table, then walked out without another word.

  Once we were alone in the room, George turned to me and slowly held his arms out at his sides.

  I narrowed my eyes at him and finished my drink, depositing the glass next to Oren’s.

  He tilted his head and waved his hands, beckoning me into a hug.

  “Eew. No. I’m not a hugger,” I said, even as I hugged my own damn self around the middle.

  “Stop being a damn brat and come here. We can pretend it never happened.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes but leaned into him. His long arms wrapped around my back, and he held me firmly for a long moment. George had strong shoulders, but he was a little soft around the middle.

  I couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged me for a nonsexual reason. There was no way I’d ever admit it to George, but it was kind of nice.

  Eventually I pulled away. “Should we just swap back? This is too dangerous, right?”

  He shrugged. “Up to you. I’ve been telling you from the start you can bail out whenever you want. Alex will understand.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. I wasn’t a quitter. I needed that money. But mostly, I wasn’t ready to leave and never see Oren again. I needed to figure out what the fuck my cold, dead heart was playing at when it came to life around him. “How bad is this really? I mean, he’s family.”

  George bounced his head from side to side as he considered my question. “Yeah, but they were never exactly close. They see each other once, maybe twice a year. If he didn’t already realize you’re not her, I don’t think he’s going to.”

  “Fuck.” I sighed. “OK, let me sleep on it.”

  George nodded. “Whatever you decide, I’m ready.”

  “Thank you, George,” I told him and meant it.

  I headed upstairs, locked myself in my room, and spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to hold back a panic attack. The shortness of breath, the increased heart rate, the thoughts of all the many and varied things that could go wrong in this scenario just kept bubbling up like a volcano ready to burst. Somehow, eventually, I managed to get it under control.

  I was determined to see this through. Not just for the money, not just to prove to myself that I could, but because of him. I couldn’t deny it anymore. Oren Charles Winthrop had somehow managed to crawl his privileged, coiffed way under my skin.

  It was never, ever going to happen. We were from two completely different worlds, and we had no future. I needed to use the time I had left to figure this out and nip it in the bud before we parted ways. Because in another month, he would be marrying Alexandria, and I would be going back to my dingy life above a bar. Nothing was going to change that, and I needed to get over it.

  After a long bath and a steak dinner I had the chef bring to my room, I got into some comfy pajamas and flopped back onto the ridiculously soft bed, staring at the tall ceiling. I was tired, emotionally spent, but my mind still wasn’t ready to switch off, my body not quite ready for sleep.

  It was getting late and the house was quiet. Maybe a movie would help me wind down. I peeked my head into the entertainment room Oren had pointed out. It was empty. I made my way downstairs in bare feet, hunted down a giant bag of cheddar cheese–flavored popcorn, grabbed a soda out of the fridge, and made my way back upstairs.

  As I rounded the corner, I paused. The TV was on, and Oren was just lowering himself onto the couch. I was about to back out of the room quietly, but his head whipped around, and once again I found myself frozen to the spot by his stare.

  “You beat me to it.” I held up the popcorn and gave him a wry smile. “I’ll just read in my room or something.” I turned to leave, but he reached a hand out and spoke over me.

  “No. Don’t go. I only just sat down. I haven’t even picked a movie.”

  I bit my lip and regarded the single couch. I was supposed to be figuring out how to get him out of my system, not spending movie night with him.

  “Come on.” He waved me over with a smile. “I’ll let you pick the movie. I’ll let you spread out on the couch. I’ll even share my candy with you.” He held up a bag of peanut butter M&M’s and shook it.

  I padded over to the couch and lowered myself into the opposite corner, crossing my legs under me. “I guess I could share my popcorn with you as well.”

  He grinned, leaned back, and threw the remote in my direction. “What are we watching?”

  “I don’t know. What do you like?”

  “Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie. I’m usually too busy. I used to watch a lot of fantasy and sci-fi when I was a kid.”

  “You’re a nerd? I never would’ve picked it under those perfectly tailored shirts and that smoldering stare.”

  “My stare is smoldering? What does that even mean?” He chuckled, but then he gave me the exact smoldering stare.

  “Please. Like you don’t know the effect you have on women.” I wriggled in my spot and pulled a blanket over my lap.

  He didn’t respond, but I didn’t miss his smug smile before I focused on flicking through the available films. I settled on some action movie with a ridiculous premise and mediocre acting.

  Oren turned the single lamp off, and the only illumination came from the large-screen TV—the explosions and car chases throwing shadows over his face.

  Slowly, as the movie played, we inched closer together.

  He leaned over to reach into the popcorn. I scooted across to take the last of the candy. I offered him some of my soda; he mixed it with his scotch, but there was only one glass. We ended up shoulder to shoulder, passing the drink between us.

  He was slouched, his head leaning back into the soft cushions, one foot propped up on the coffee table. His warm shoulder pressed against mine, seared me. That one little spot of heat spread from my shoulder throughout my body until I felt like I was burning up from the inside, and I had to throw the blanket off.

  But then it was obvious how heavily I was breathing, my breasts rising and falling with every breath.

  I took a big gulp of the scotch and Coke, finishing the last of it. Oren reached for the glass without looking. His fingers brushed mine, sending more heat shooting up my arm. He brought the glass to his full lips and tipped it, then chuckled when he realized there wasn’t any left.

  He leaned forward and placed the glass on the table. The corded muscle in his back danced under the cotton.

  When he flopped back next to me, suddenly his whole arm was pressed against mine, his head so close that if I tipped mine just a fraction of an inch, I’d be leaning into him.

  Before I could give in to the instinct, he turned his head and gave me a lazy smile. “You want another drink? If you pause it, I’ll run to my office and grab the bottle.”

  I held his stare for a moment. His usually bright eyes looked really dark in the dim light.

  I needed another drink. But I didn’t want him to leave.

  I shook my head.

  His easy smile fell, replaced by something more serious, something heavier.

  His gaze dropped to my lips, mere inches from his, then darted back up to my eyes.

  It took every drop of control I had to keep my gaze fixed on his as I swallowed, as my breathing got shallower, as my heartbeat kicked up.

  I managed to control my eyes, but my body took on a mind of its own. I shifted my arm against his. The movement was tiny, but we were so still th
e brush of my finger against the back of his hand may as well have been a scream in a library.

  His sharp intake of breath would’ve been subtle in any other situation, but I was so focused on him, my body so aware of his, there was no missing it. His lips parted, and I lost the battle to keep my eyes off them. They were so full, so soft and inviting.

  As though my light touch had spurred him into action, he made the next move—a much more bold, intentional one.

  His free hand landed on my knee as he angled his torso in my direction. But he kept his head still, resting on the cushions in the same spot, those lips begging me to lift my head and claim them.

  I gave up trying to pretend this wasn’t affecting me, and my own lips parted with my labored pants. We breathed each other in as he started to caress my knee, every pass of his fingers inching higher up my leg.

  The T-shirt felt almost painfully tight against my straining nipples. I’d never been so turned on in my life, never been so wet before I’d even been kissed. I felt like I was in high school again. Hormones flying, the lust almost impossible to resist, the allure of what might happen next as exciting as his hand—on my thigh now, halfway to where I wanted it most.

  I lifted the arm that was flush with his and caressed his cheek with the back of my hand. His stubble was coarse, electric against my skin.

  He sighed and closed his eyes as the grip on my thigh tightened. His fingers dug into my flesh, and moisture pooled at my core. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from moaning. How embarrassing—he wasn’t even touching me, not really.

  Oren kept his eyes closed as his hand resumed its agonizingly slow path up my leg. He licked his lips, and I nearly moaned again at the sight.

  The tips of his fingers reached the spot where my leg met my pussy, and I couldn’t take this torture any longer.

  I leaned forward and mashed my lips to his. They were so wonderfully soft and responded to mine immediately.

  Our lips moved in perfect synchronicity, our tongues tangling, our teeth bumping in our desperate need to get closer.

  I stopped thinking, forgot who I was and where I was. There was only Oren. I was consumed by him, his smell, his touch, his very soul crawling its way into my chest.

  The hand at my thigh went to the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair.

  Finally, I let myself moan into his mouth.

  He leaned farther into me, and I leaned right back.

  I pushed away from the back of the couch. Keeping my mouth against his, I swung a leg over his hips and straddled him. The hand in my hair tightened, pulling lightly at the strands, as his other arm banded around my back and drew me against his chest.

  I spread my knees wide and rolled my hips, no longer able to hold back my moans. He was rock hard, almost painfully solid against my aching flesh. His hips moved with mine as we found a grinding rhythm.

  He nudged me back just enough to shove a hand between us and grab my breast, kneading it lightly. He growled into my mouth and broke the kiss, only to kiss, lick, nip, devour his way down my neck. Pulling the wide collar of my T-shirt down, he ducked his head until his hot mouth wrapped around the nipple. I increased my pace, grinding my hips harder, faster, chasing that heady feeling. But it wasn’t enough.

  I wanted to crawl inside of him, be completely consumed, but feeling his skin against mine would have to do.

  I leaned back and tugged at the hem of his T-shirt until he sat up so I could remove it. His hands dragged up my sides, taking fabric with them, and my T-shirt was gone too.

  Every dip and bump of smooth muscle on his lean body begged me to lick it. His auburn hair looked almost black in the dim light, and his broad shoulders glowed in the illumination of another explosion on the TV behind me.

  He pulled me against him, bare chest to bare chest, and kissed me once more, his hands running all over me, his lips begging.

  I broke the kiss again and scooted back to tug at the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He helped me drag them to his ankles as I backed up and got to my feet, then his hands were at my hips, tugging my shorts and underwear down in one go.

  “Fuck.” The curse didn’t fall from his lips as an awed utterance; it tumbled out dripping with frustration as he ran a hand through his hair.

  I leaned back, already preparing myself for rejection even as my heart started to constrict.

  Oren looked up into my face with eyes full of lust, his hands gripping my bare hips, not letting me run away. “I don’t have any condoms in here.”

  Relief washed through me so fast it almost knocked me over. I’d never wanted anything as badly as I wanted him inside me in that moment.

  “I have the implant.” I gestured to the inside of my arm. “I’m pretty sure I’m clean.”

  “I am too.” His smile was brilliant, almost giddy, as he drew me back into his lap.

  The smart thing would’ve been to put our clothes back on, go to one of our rooms, get the rubber, not take the chance. The smart thing would’ve been to remember who I was, who he was, why this couldn’t happen.

  But I wasn’t thinking about all that. I only saw him, felt him as he pulled me in for another searing kiss, his tongue doing incredible things to my lips and mouth.

  I rubbed myself on him, sliding my dripping lips up and down his length, and he moaned into my mouth before pulling away to stare into his lap.

  “Fuck.” That time it came out on a lust-filled whisper. “You’re so wet.”

  In answer, I shifted myself up slightly. He gripped his cock at the base, giving it one quick stroke before I lined myself up and sank down onto him. I slid all the way down until he was buried to the hilt, our hips flush, and we both moaned at the sensation.

  I started to grind on him as that consuming fire inside me intensified, making sweat bead at my brow. We kissed, we caressed, we gripped and tugged and writhed against one another as I rode him deep.

  His cock filled me up so perfectly, every roll of my hips creating delicious friction against my clit. Coupled with Oren’s strong yet gentle hands on my body, it had me making incoherent sounds in minutes.

  With one hand on the back of the couch for balance and the other holding on to the back of his neck, I chased my orgasm. It wasn’t hard to catch. Pleasure exploded, the burning heat spreading from my core, through my chest, and down my limbs, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

  He captured my moans with his mouth as I rode it out, his kiss messy, desperate.

  As my orgasm faded, I found my balance on shaky knees and lifted up just a fraction before slamming back down onto him.

  He grunted and bit my bottom lip gently. With both hands on my hips, he set the pace, meeting me thrust for thrust as his hands shoved me down onto his cock over and over again.

  His back stiffened and arched off the couch as he pushed me onto him one last time and ground his hips into me, moaning through his release.

  He dropped his forehead onto my shoulder and panted against my flushed skin. I rested my cheek against his hair, running a hand through the soft strands as we came down off the high.

  After a few minutes, he held me to his chest and stood up. He lifted me until his cock slid out, then set me on my feet. Immediately, his warm, sticky cum started to trickle down my thigh.

  “Shit.” I looked around for a tissue, but Oren was already wrapping a blanket around my shoulders and sweeping me into his arms.

  My eyes widened. “Oren, you’re going to get jizz all over this blanket. Let me go clean up.”

  “Shh.” He kissed my cheek. “Let me take care of you.”

  I melted at his words, relaxing against his chest as he carried me to his room. I kept my eyes trained on his strong jaw as we passed the door to my room, deliberately avoiding thinking about why I had a separate room in this house, why I was even here.

  It had happened. There was nothing I could do to change that, so there was no harm in indulging in the fantasy for another few hours.

  Sixteen

&nb
sp; Alex

  A knock rattled the glass in the door to the studio apartment, making me rush from the bathroom to answer it.

  “Hey!” I opened the door, glimpsed Ren leaning in the doorway, and rushed back to the bathroom. “I’m nearly ready.”

  His laughter carried through the small apartment as he followed me to the bathroom. “Take your damn time. The later we are, the more pissed off my parents will be. Is that what you’re wearing?”

  I lowered the mascara and turned to glare at him. “Hey. I’m doing you a favor here. This is the best I could do.”

  I gestured to the simple black dress with spaghetti straps and buttons all the way down the front. It was one of the few items of clothing Toni owned that wasn’t intentionally ripped and didn’t have an offensive picture on it.

  I pointedly looked at Ren’s outfit, properly taking him in for the first time. He looked like sin in black leather pants, a red vest over a sheer tank top, and his leather necklaces hanging down the front. Black bracelets, several rings, and all his piercings completed the rebellious look. He’d even put on a little bit of black eyeliner.

  “Are you trying to look like a spoiled rich bitch?” He raised his brows and smirked.

  I took a breath and pushed the hair out of my face. “Again. I’m doing you a favor. I’m trying.”

  “Yeah, that’s the problem. I don’t want them to think we’re making an effort. People have been bending over backward to accommodate those two assholes my whole life. I’m trying to make a point here.”

  I leaned back against the sink. “So what you’re saying is, I look too nice?”

  “Yes. Put something trashy on and let’s go.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned back to the mirror to finish my makeup, making it Toni’s standard of heavy instead of the light look I’d originally planned.

  I didn’t know the full story, but Renshaw clearly had some serious friction with his parents. If he wanted to piss them off by bringing an “unsavory woman” to lunch, then I figured it was time to really embrace my Toni persona. I smiled to myself as I pulled the dress over my head and opened the wardrobe. I was actually a little excited at the prospect.