Pretend We're Over (Pretend 2)

“Sebastian! What are you doing?” she squeals as I throw the door to our balcony open, the rain immediately pelting us with its heavy drops. It won’t take long until we are soaked—perfect.

“Sebastian!” She pounds her fists against my chest, trying to get me to let her go so she can escape the drumming rain.

I’m determined, though. Nothing is going to make me let her go, not until she understands something. I’m more determined to make her see the truth than I am to fuck her, which is the absolute opposite of how I should feel. I shouldn’t be emotional about my fake wife.

Another crack of thunder sparks overhead, and I push those thoughts out and focus on my goal.

“Will you stop squirming?” I say.

“Will you get us back inside before we add getting hypothermia or struck by lightning to the list of things that have gone wrong on this trip?”

I smirk. “The odds of us getting struck by lightning are like a million to one.”

She shakes her head, trying harder to get out of my arms. “No, not if you are outside on a high balcony during a thunderstorm. The odds are like one in ten.”

I laugh. “Stop fighting me, and I’ll tell you why we are out here. Only then will I let us go back inside.”

She stops squirming and hitting me. I walk us over to one of the lounge chairs. I sit down with her straddling my lap, and then I take the sleeve of my shirt and wipe over her eyes.

“Stop! You’re going to get my makeup all over you.”

My eyes slice through the rain to her, telling her to stop fighting me.

She does.

I keep wiping until all the makeup is gone from her face. “You don’t need this. You’re the most gorgeous woman without it. You don’t need to hide behind it.”

I grab her ankles and remove each of her heels. “Just like you don’t need these.”

She sucks in a breath as I grab the back of her dress. “And you don’t need this dress.” I rip it open at the back but don’t remove it. My point is made.

“Do you feel my cock?” I ask, knowing that she can feel how hard I am for her as she straddles my lap.

She nods her head slowly, heat flowing through her body, making her cheeks flush. I’m sure her panties are soaked, and not from the rain. But I won’t push us any further than this unless she wants to, even if she gives me the biggest case of blue balls that have ever been recorded.

Her hands curl around the back of my neck, stroking my hair between her fingertips.

“You’re smart and sexy and adventurous,” I say.

She breathes in all of my words, considering them.

“Let go of all the words that hurt you. Let go of the past and just be present with me now.”

She exhales sharply.

“You are the most confident person I’ve ever met. Don’t let go of that version of you. That part of you isn’t pretend, no matter how much you think it is. I’ve seen the confident, brave woman. The woman who risked getting stung by a deadly bee to help me. That woman isn’t afraid of anything.”

She bites her lip, and I think I’ve gotten through to her, even though I suspect I’ve ruined the mood. Fucking in the rain isn’t nearly as sexy as it is in the movies. In real life, it’s wet and cold and uncomfortable.

Her hands leave my body, and then she grabs the straps of her dress and slides them off her shoulders. Then her hands push the rest of the fabric down until it’s bunched at her waist.

I can’t breathe. My mouth falls open, and rain drips down my face blurring my view of her fucking incredible body.

“Fuck me, Sebastian.”

24

Millie