His Fake Fiancee: BBW Romance (Fake it For Me)

There is a walk-in shower the size of my entire bathroom with so many showerheads and jets I lose count as the scent of Ivan hits me. Hmm...grass, rain, leather, I see the oil spin in the water. He presses a button and jets go into motion. Leaning over, he settles me into the water. Hot, ow, it takes a minute to get used to it. I grab my hair, I don’t want it wet.

“Can you please grab my clip from my purse?”

He nods and I enjoy the sight of his firm ass walking away. It felt even better than it looked. When he comes back he’s wearing his sweats again.

I pout. “You aren’t getting in with me?”

A firm shake of his head. “I told you already, I touch you and I lose control. Take your time and enjoy it. It should help with the soreness.” He hits a button on a rack holding big, fluffy white towels. “So they are nice and hot when you get out.”

He’s gone before I can argue. I give up and enjoy it as ordered.

When my fingers get wrinkly, I hit the button to turn off the jets and empty it. The towel is heaven as I dry off and wrap it around me.

He?

?s cleaned up the bedroom, I blush remembering the mess one of the condoms made when he changed it in a dirty hot rush. There is a brand-new dark green velvet wrap dress on the bed with a tag still on it. I chuckle at the length—the hem goes all the way to my ankles.

I feel Ivan’s eyes on me and turn to find him in the open doorway. His jeans are worn and faded in spots, caressing him like I want to. The black polo is supposed to be casual but screams expensive. One day this is going to fade, right? I won’t turn into a puddle of goo every time I see him, eventually.

“You are so beautiful.”

The words are filled with awe. I work to take in air. I move and he backs away.

“I guess it is a good thing I am taking you home.”

All at once I want to take it all back. The idea of sleeping through the night in his arms, waking up with him in the morning...next week for two whole weeks will have to be soon enough. I grab my purse, and he takes my hand.

He opens the door for me to his car. I like it isn’t a flashy car. It’s a black Maybach with leather, so it’s not cheap, but it isn’t a half-million-dollar car like some men felt the need to drive. “Lawrence drives you in your car? I don’t know why I assumed he was from a service.”

“I used a service in New York because it made sense. However, here in Chicago it is not such an issue parking and driving, so I prefer the freedom of having my own car when I want and not waiting for a service to come.”

I smooth the dress down as I put on my seat belt. I catch him watching my movement. “Thank you for my new dress, even though I think you have bought me more than enough clothes. I can’t believe how much money you spent.”

My hand is enveloped in his, he squeezes lightly.

“I ripped your dress. I owed you another. The money was a pittance. I have spent more than that on a single dress for one of my sisters. I did not like how embarrassed you felt about not having more clothes.

“You are a beautiful woman. I do not want you for a moment doubting that. If buying you the clothes to help you feel better about yourself was what I needed to do, I would happily spend five times what I did every month.”

I’m grateful it’s dark and he can’t see me smiling. “I thought it was because you were embarrassed by me.”

“Never, how could you think that?” He sounds insulted.

“You said it. You said I dressed frumpy and I did.”

He sighs as he squeezes my hand. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings. I was attempting to push you away, create distance between us. I am sorry. I also knew you were hiding and I did not like that thought at all.”

“You sound like Abuelo. I was worried he would get upset at the clothes, but he was happy. Of course I lied and told him that I bought them for my role at your insistence.”

“Good to know we agree on that. Is there anything I should know before I meet him in order to not offend him?”

“What?”

“I am coming in with you in order to announce our engagement. To not do so would most definitely offend him.”

I hate that he’s right—it totally would. “Or is it to make sure I keep my mouth shut about it being a fake engagement? I told you that I wouldn’t tell him. I swear you are such a control freak, you should see someone for that.”

Ivan chuckles. “To create the illusion, we have to go through every step as if we were not faking this. And you love my control freak tendencies, your pussy is wet just thinking of it.”