Fake Engagement, Real Temptation

“Depends on what the woman gives off,” Kevin cut in, reaching beneath the table to obviously rub Wendy’s leg…or higher. Didn’t matter. She couldn’t see and didn’t care. “Some women are just more sexual, incredible creatures.”

Carrie didn’t have to read between the lines to get the jab at her. Wendy was clearly Kevin’s “type.” Everything Carrie wasn’t.

A cake was placed in front of Carrie. She hadn’t remembered ordering at all, much less dessert. But when the slab of lemon butter cake with vanilla frosting was placed right before her, she glanced at Blake, and he winked. He’d ordered all of her favorites. Like he knew her. Like he remembered her.

She flicked her finger at the frosting, but what she didn’t see coming was Blake grabbing her wrist and bringing her hand to his mouth, sucking the frosting from her finger.

“Mind if we finish dessert in our room?” he asked, her fingertip still pressed against his lips.

Carrie couldn’t see anything past the amazing blue eyes and dark stubble, complete with a matching set of dimples.

“Yes, please,” she whispered, and didn’t bother saying good-bye. Maybe it was the wine, or the night, or her life, but she was going to follow this feeling of strength and pursue every single aspect of her fantasy. That was the point of this whole trip, after all.

She’d seen Blake lay money on the table and not say a word, either, to their “dinner guests.” He guided her out of there, grabbing her ass for show, and she yelped and giggled.

He had her cake in one hand, and she wasn’t thinking of anything but the dessert she really wanted. Which was Blake.

Wait…that was the wine talking. It had to be.

Or the fact that he’d given her an orgasm even though he didn’t know it. But it was those tingles that had left this heat in her that wouldn’t go away.

They got into the room and Carrie reached out for Blake. In a hug? For a kiss? She didn’t know. She just reached out.

“Hang on, little girl,” Blake said, setting the cake down on the side table and cupping Carrie’s face. “No one is watching anymore.”

“I know,” she said, and tilted her head to snag his finger and suck it into her mouth. A low groan broke from his chest and she smiled, holding his finger hostage between her teeth.

“Easy, because we both know I’ll bite you back,” he said, and she saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“Promise?” she asked.

With his strong palms still encasing her face, he leaned in slowly, and she felt his breath hit her lips just as—

The sound of the neighboring door slammed shut.

Kevin and Wendy were back, and the shared wall meant Carrie and Blake would hear any naughty business on the other side.

Blake and Carrie froze. Nothing like an ex to kill the mood. But Carrie wasn’t ready to be mood killed. She was going to die of combustion if she didn’t feel Blake in some way.

She tried to kiss him, but he took a step back.

“Don’t you still want dessert?” she asked.

His blue eyes bored into hers, his gaze like a stroke on her hand. Hot and insistent. “Yes,” he rasped. “Very much. But this is fake, remember? And there are rules.”

Carrie bit her lip. “But I… The rules…”

She wanted to ditch the rules, have him take her. She was trying to find the words to say just that, but her brain was a little foggy, and Blake beat her to the punch.

“You’ve been drinking,” he said. As if that somehow explained away everything.

“So?” she countered. “I’m not sloppy drunk.”

“Of course not,” he said, and closed the space between them again. She loved feeling his warmth. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she could still get wrapped up in the heat of his nearness. “I just think that if we’re going to start changing rules, we should chat about it first. In the light of day. Stone cold sober.”

Her shoulders sank. So he was a gentlemanly fake boyfriend now? She shook her head. She was silly for thinking more. This was a ruse. To make her pride not hurt so badly and Kevin jealous.

Fake.