Living with Her Fake Fiancé (The Loft Book 3) Read online

  He met her eyes. “Right.”

  “It might be fake, but I’m not going to go out with anyone else while my Mima is in town. That would just be stupid.”

  “Yeah.”

  She knew it was best to get some things said, so she made herself be brave. “But to tell you the truth, even if that wasn’t an issue, as long as we’re... trying things out together... I’m not going to want to go out with anyone else. It would feel... not right.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She dropped her eyes and then raised them to his face again. “I’m hoping... you feel the same way.”

  He made a choked sound. “Of course I’m not going out with anyone else.”

  She let out a breath. “Okay. Good. That’s good.”

  This was it. She needed to say the last thing.

  “I did...” She almost chickened out and had to start again. “I did want to make sure... make sure we’re on the same page. About our relationship. We’d said we were just... trying things out. Nothing serious. Is that... is that what you want?”

  His body felt stiff. Too stiff. She was suddenly worried that she’d messed things up. Things had felt so good between them before dinner, and now he was stiff and silent and staring—like he’d been before they’d gotten comfortable with each other.

  “Brent?” she prompted when the silence went on too long. “What do you think? Do you want it to just be... casual? Friendly. Or would you maybe... maybe want...” She gulped. “More.”

  She actually held her breath as she waited for him to answer.

  “Brent?” She hated that she had to make him speak, that he wasn’t ready to open up to her the way she wanted.

  He looked away. Took a deep breath. “Casual is... is fine. I’m not exp— I’m not looking for anything serious. What we said at the beginning is good with me.”

  Casual.

  He just wanted casual.

  He didn’t want more the way she did.

  She should have been smarter. She should have been more realistic. She should have realized that she’d gotten excited about nothing.

  Guys wanted to have sex with her, but they didn’t fall in love with her.

  It didn’t change anything. Not really. This was exactly what she’d signed up for, and she’d been perfectly fine with it two weeks ago.

  And she was going to still be fine with it now.

  She could enjoy what they had together.

  She didn’t need anything more.

  WHEN THEY GOT BACK to the apartment, it was almost ten o’clock. Chloe felt tired and kind of depressed, no matter how much she tried to talk herself out of it.

  She shouldn’t have been so stupid.

  Part of her wanted to spend the rest of the evening with Brent—have some more fun together—but she was worried about the state of her heart, and she thought it might be wiser to give herself a little space.

  She’d be fine tomorrow.

  She’d be back to her old self.

  But she better not try to do anything with Brent until she felt better.

  Afraid he might expect it, since their make-out sessions had become a nightly habit, she caught him at his bedroom door. She spoke softly because Michelle and Steve were in the living room. “I’m kind of tired tonight. So I’m just going to go to bed.”

  Brent nodded. “Okay.” He studied her face closely. “Did you... Did I... did I mess up somehow?”

  “No!” She lowered her tone. “No. Of course not. I really am just tired. Maybe tomorrow we can... do some more.”

  “You sure? Because if you’re worried that I’m thinking... I mean, I meant what I said about being casual. It’s all I’m looking for.”

  “I know. We’re good. We’re on the same page about everything. So maybe we can get together tomorrow evening after my class. I’m just tired tonight.”

  His stance had relaxed, so she must have said the right thing. “Okay. Sounds good.” His eyes softened on her face, and he lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair back from her face. “Good night, Chloe.”

  Her heart was hammering, and her skin was tingling, and she was being absolutely stupid. Brent just told her—twice—that he didn’t want anything serious with her. And here she was all breathless because of what she hoped she saw his eyes. “Good night,” she managed to say, pulling her face away from his hand and turning around.

  She escaped into her room.

  Things would be better tomorrow.

  They had to be better. She couldn’t go through this emotional roller coaster for much longer.

  Six

  THE NEXT DAY, BRENT was afraid that he’d blown things with Chloe.

  He wasn’t sure how he’d done it. His only guess was that maybe she’d realized his feelings for her were deeper than he’d ever said, despite his attempts to reassure her that he knew they were casual.

  She was friendly enough when they ran into each other in the kitchen in the morning, but she texted in the middle of the afternoon, saying that she and a couple of other students from her art theory class were staying late to work on a group presentation.

  He had no reason to assume that she wasn’t telling him the truth. But they were supposed to get together after her class this evening, and now they weren’t. He couldn’t help but worry there was intention behind the change.

  Maybe she was feeling spooked.

  Maybe she was realizing what an idiot he really was.

  There was nothing he could do about it. She hadn’t wanted to do anything with him after dinner last night, and now she was backing out of their plans for tonight.

  He probably should have assumed this would happen eventually. She was way too beautiful, way too talented and fun and funny and endearing to ever really be interested in him as more than a friend.

  What she’d already given him was more than he could have dreamed of.

  He took a long shower and jerked off while he was under the spray so he wouldn’t be troubled by unsatisfied lust. Then he made himself get out his laptop and work from bed, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

  It was almost ten, and he was fighting a tension headache and blurry eyes when there was a knock on his door.

  It surprised him so much he jumped out of bed like he’d been caught misbehaving.

  He’d put on pajama pants after his shower and nothing else, but he was covered enough for any of his roommates, so he went to open the door.

  It was Chloe.

  He hadn’t dared to hope.

  She’d obviously just gotten back from her study session after class. She was fully dressed in jeans and an oversized pink sweater that looked very soft and touchable. Her head cocked to one side as he just stood there staring.

  “Are you busy?” she asked at last, nodding toward the bed where he’d left his laptop.

  “No. No. No, I’m not.”

  Damn. Couldn’t he ever not sound like an idiot around her?

  “More dissertation?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, if you’d rather work, I can just go—”

  “No!” He stepped out of the doorway and managed to soften his tone as he continued, “You can come in if you want. I didn’t know if you would or not.”

  “The presentation prep didn’t last very long. We just divided up the topic and figured out who was going to take what.” She looked relaxed enough as she came into his room, toeing off her shoes before she climbed onto the bed.

  Brent reached for a T-shirt from the floor to put on since he was bare chested.

  “You don’t have to put that on,” she told him, giving him a flirty little smile.

  He stopped and gazed at her, torn between excitement and anxiety.

  “I mean,” she added when he didn’t respond, “you can if you’re more comfortable that way. But don’t put it on because of me. I like you just fine without a shirt.”

  She seemed more herself now than she had when they’d said good night yesterday evening. He was start
ing to relax. Maybe he hadn’t messed things up after all.

  Maybe they wouldn’t have to stop doing what they’d been doing.

  He dropped the T-shirt again and returned to the bed, taking his normal position against the two pillows, sitting up enough for him to move easily if required.

  He was about to ask her about her day when she took off her sweater.

  She had a white tank top underneath it. A thin one with lace straps that slipped down over her shoulders and revealed white bra straps. So it wasn’t like she was stripping down to nothing.

  But Brent gaped at her anyway, his body surging with interest at the sight of her bare arms and shoulders, the lush swell of her breasts beneath the fabric. He tried to raise his eyes to the level of her face, but he couldn’t do it.

  She laughed uninhibitedly and straddled his lap without warning. “Are you already turned on, Brent?”

  He took a ragged breath. “M-maybe.”

  She was still laughing softly as she rubbed her hands up and down his chest. “That was quick.”

  “Well, you took your sweater off.”

  “But I have a tank on beneath it. The sweater was just getting kind of hot.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Something about it coming off did me in.” He felt a little like laughing too, responding to her warm amusement. He reached up to comb his fingers through her hair, holding her head still so he could see her better.

  He couldn’t seem to get enough.

  “Why are you looking at me that way?” she asked, her eyelashes fluttering down.

  “What way?”

  “That way. Like you...”

  He held his breath as he waited for her to finish the thought, praying she didn’t know what the feeling behind the look really was.

  She concluded, “Like you’re trying to read my mind.”

  “I’d kind of like to read your mind,” he admitted. “But it’s not your mind that has most of my attention at the moment.”

  That was evidently a good thing to say because Chloe relaxed and came to life again. She leaned forward to kiss him—slowly, softly, just his lips. When he tried to deepen it with his tongue, she pulled back with a teasing smile. “Not yet,” she said. “We get too carried away when tongues get involved, and I want to do a few other things first.”

  “What things?”

  “First I want to do this.” She repositioned so she could look down as her hands started to stroke his chest again, this time slower, more intentionally. “If it’s okay with you.”

  “Of course it’s okay.”

  “You don’t mind me touching you like this?”

  “You can touch me anywhere you want.” His voice was thick and low because his erection was hardening even more, just from the light stroke of her hands.

  “Okay.” She smiled, her eyes never leaving his chest. “Then I will.”

  She rubbed his shoulders. Played with his chest hair. Twirled his nipples until he sucked in a breath and arched his neck.

  “You like that?” she asked softly.

  “I like you touching me. Any way. Anywhere.”

  She chuckled and flicked both his nipples at the same time. “Some guys like to have their nipples played with and some don’t. I’m happy to conclude that you do.” Her hands slid down to his abdomen. “You’ve got some very good stuff going on in the chest department. You know that, right?”

  “Do I?” His mind was blurring with arousal so he wasn’t thinking at his full capacity.

  “Yes. Girls are really going to like your body, as soon as you’re ready to let them see it.”

  “You’re—” He gasped because she’d leaned down to mouth the throbbing pulse in his throat. “You’re seeing it now.”

  “I know. But I meant other girls. Not me. Girls who see it when it’s the real thing.”

  In the midst of his heated pleasure, he felt a surge of resistance at that.

  Maybe they weren’t a real couple, but what was happening between them was real. He wanted to argue but didn’t know how without turning their evening into an awkward, stilted discussion. So he bit back his automatic response and said instead, “This feels pretty damn real to me.”

  It must have been an appropriate response because Chloe giggled and kissed her way down to his right nipple. “It feels real to me too.” She reached down to rub his erection through the flannel of his pants. “Especially this.”

  “That—fuck, Chloe!—that is definitely real.” He lifted his hips against the pressure of her hand, but she moved it before he could get any relief. “You’re gonna kill me tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe. I told you. I wanted to do a few more things before we really get going.”

  “What about if we get going first. Then we do the things you want. And then we get going again.”

  She laughed as she moved her face up to rub against his beard. “Don’t be greedy.”

  He groaned, partly in exaggerated surrender and partly because she was teasing his nipples again. “Fine. No greediness.”

  “Well, you can be a little greedy. Is there anything you wanted to try since we’re working on foreplay?”

  His eyes moved immediately down to her breasts, which were only a few inches away from him now. Big and round and tantalizing.

  “Oh.” There was a smile in her voice, although his gaze was fixed lower on her body. “I know what you want. Why didn’t you say so?”

  She pulled her tank top over her head, and Brent had to bite back a moan of pleasure at the sight of her in her bra. She seemed to be spilling out of it, like the lace and silky fabric couldn’t contain the abundance of her. He stared at the deep cleavage, the way the outline of her nipples was visible beneath the fabric. Her skin was naturally tan, but right now she seemed to be flushed from her face all the way to the tops of her breasts. It was utterly delectable.

  His erection throbbed painfully. He’d never seen anything he wanted as much as her.

  “Well?” she demanded. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  “I... I can’t. You’re... There are no words.” There were probably words, but he was incapable of finding them.

  She leaned down to check his face. “But if there were words, they’d be good, right?”

  He almost choked. “Yes! As good as words get. That’s what it would take to describe how gorgeous you are.”

  She relaxed into a smile. “Oh. Well, that’s all right then.”

  He was still staring. There was no way he could stop. And he suddenly realized his hands were moving—drawn to her breasts by an unstoppable force.

  He made himself drop them.

  “You can touch me if you want,” she said. “Since you were so generous in letting me touch you.”

  Up went his hands again, this time ending up at her breasts. He didn’t want to grab at them like a teenager, so he cupped them gently, feeling their softness, their weight. And then lightly rubbing at her nipples through her bra.

  She inhaled and arched her back slightly.

  “You like that?” he asked, his voice rough with lust and tension.

  “Yeah. My breasts are pretty sensitive. Not all women’s are. So rubbing their nipples isn’t some sort of on-switch to get them ready. It’s not always going to work for women—and for some women it doesn’t work at all.”

  He was interested in what she was saying but wasn’t sure why she was saying it. “But it can work for you?”

  “Y-yeah.” Her eyes were mostly closed, her lips parted just a little, her hair loose and tousled, her chest rising and falling with her quick breathing. Her nipples were hardening under his touch, even through the bra. “But... but...”

  “But what?” He lowered his hands because he was afraid she was going to tell him something he was doing that wasn’t working for her.

  “But I don’t want you to assume that what works for me is going to work with other girls you’re with. You need to ask them, and if they don’t know, you need to test some stuff out.”
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  There she was, talking about him being with other girls when the only one he ever wanted to be with was her.

  “But it’s working for you?”

  She met his eyes. For just a moment she looked strangely torn. But the look was gone before he could chase it down, and he might have just imagined it. Because then she was smiling and reaching behind her back to unhook her bra and pull it off. “Yeah,” she said throatily. “It’s working for me.”

  He stared at her bare breasts, wondering what he’d ever done in his life to be treated to such a sight. He reached up instinctively to touch the dark tips of her nipples, thrilled when they tightened even more under his fingers. He caressed her, watching and listening for what she liked the most.

  He wanted anything they did to be good for her. As good for her as it was for him.

  He didn’t want to do this if it wasn’t.

  She seemed to really like how he was touching her. Her breathing quickened, and after a few minutes she started to make helpless little moans.

  Wanting her to moan like that even more, he leaned up to kiss her deeply, using his tongue to dip and stroke. He had to move one hand to hold her in place, but he kept playing with her breast with the other.

  She moaned into his mouth.

  After another minute, she started rocking over him the way she did when she was working up toward orgasm.

  She was turned on now. Her body was mimicking the motion of sex, trying to find its release.

  His mind buzzing with excitement that almost overwhelmed his arousal, he kept kissing and caressing her until she was making whimpering sounds that didn’t stop. Finally she tore her mouth away. “Oh fuck. I need to come so bad, Brent.”

  “I’ll...” His voice broke. “Just tell me how, and I’ll make you come.”

  “Are you sure? You’re... ready?”

  “Fuck, yes. I’m more than ready. I want to. I want to make you come, Chloe.”

  She nodded and repositioned herself so she was reclined on the bed beside him, opening the top buttons of her jeans. “You can try with your hand if you want. I’m so turned on right now I don’t think it will be too hard.”