Pretend I'm Yours (Pretend 1)

When I finish, she neatly tucks me back into my pants with the broadest smile possible on her face.

“You’ve done that before,” I say, watching her smirk.

“No.”

“Then, how?”

She blushes.

“How?” I ask again.

“I did a few internet searches…” She winces and blushes like it’s a bad thing.

I chuckle. “You watched porn?”

She nods.

I laugh, a full belly laugh. I grab her steaming red cheeks and kiss her on the lips. “You’re incredible. Don’t ever be ashamed of watching porn. I kind of like it.”

She leans back like she’s exhausted.

“Oh, you don’t get to be tired yet.”

“Why not?”

The driver pulls up into my driveway.

“Because it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

I open my door and jump out before pulling her out into my arms so I can carry her into our house.

“You don’t have to carry me. We aren’t really married.”

I scowl. “We are really married.”

She rolls her eyes. “We aren’t in love. We aren’t planning on staying married. We signed a contract. We aren’t really married.”

“A prenup.”

She sighs. “A contract I can already see I need to amend.”

I frown, stopping before I carry her inside. “Why?”

“Because you have to stop being so nice to me all the time. I told you, I can’t like you. Only the sex part. You need to be more of a jerk to me.”

“I was. I walked out on you after we had sex without a word.”

“And then you sent me sushi and a note, making it all better. You can’t keep doing that. You need to treat me like any of the other women you fucked and didn’t want a relationship with. The boundaries get too confusing otherwise. You can’t do anything a boyfriend would do for me unless we are in public.” Her eyes darken and her lips tense, and I know she’s serious.

“No, I like treating you well.”

“You need to stop. I can’t handle it. That’s why we keep going weeks without seeing each other. Now that we are fake married, we have to have boundaries. Mine is that we can have sex and we can do public appearances together as husband and wife. Otherwise, you treat me like a roommate that you can barely tolerate. No date nights. No sleeping in my bed. No snuggling. No watching chick flicks with me. Nothing.”

I hate every single word leaving her mouth.

“And if I don’t agree?”

“No more sex.”