Faking Ms. Right: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club Book 1)
Faking Ms. Right: Chapter 23

Crawling into bed, my skin warm from a very long bath, I pulled the sheets up. I didn’t know where Shepherd was—if he was in his office, or downstairs with his guitar collection. Or maybe at the bar again.

It didn’t matter. I wasn’t his fiancée, or even his girlfriend, as he’d so helpfully reminded me. He could do what he wanted.

But man, that comment had stung.

What had I expected? That Shepherd inviting me to see him play at a dive bar, giving me an orgasm in the back of his car, then fucking me senseless in his secret guitar lair meant this wasn’t fake anymore? That something was actually happening between us?

Okay, yes, that’s kind of what I’d thought.

Shifting, I tried to get comfortable. Soaking in the bath hadn’t done much to help me relax. I’d tried to read, but mostly I’d sat in the water replaying our conversation. I was hurt and frustrated, making it very difficult to enjoy Shepherd’s fantastic bathtub.

The door whispered open and my back stiffened. I barely heard his footsteps as he went into the bathroom and quietly shut the door. Was he trying to keep from waking me to be polite, or because he didn’t want to face me right now?

A few minutes later, he came out, still moving almost silently through the room. My skin prickled as he slipped into bed next to me. I felt every shift in the mattress, every tiny movement of the sheets.

Great. Now that he was here, I really wasn’t going to be able to sleep.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. His breathing was even and he hardly moved. He must have gone to sleep already.

How could he just fall sleep like nothing was wrong? Didn’t it bother him that we were basically fighting? What was I supposed to do tomorrow? Pretend like nothing had happened?

“Everly.”

His soft voice startled me from my thoughts. “Yeah?”

“You’re mad at me.”

Oh, you think? “I’m fine.”

He sighed. “That’s a lie.”

“Like our relationship?”

He made a growly noise in his throat and I clenched my teeth, trying to deny the way my body reacted to that sound. I did not need heat rushing to my core right now.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said.

“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re right. We’re pretending. That was the deal.”

He moved. I couldn’t see him, but it felt like he’d turned on his side to face me. “I wasn’t pretending when I kissed you at the hospital.”

“You’d just been through a really stressful experience.”

“Or at the bar.”

“That was intense. No one you know has ever seen you play before.”

“Did it seem like I was pretending in the car?” he asked, his voice low.

I hesitated, the insistent tingling between my legs getting harder to ignore. “We were… it was just… any man would respond to a woman straddling him in the back seat of his car.”

“Everly—”

“Fine, I’m sure your hard-ons last night were very real. But an erection doesn’t mean anything. Guys can get erections for all kinds of reasons. They don’t even have to like a woman to have a physical response to her.”

“That’s not my point.”

I flipped over to face him. In the darkness, I could just make out his features. “Then what is your point?”

“That I’m sorry. I only meant my dad thinks the engagement is real. Regardless of what happened last night, I think we can both agree we’re not actually engaged.”

Okay, he did have a point. Even though I was positively drowning in feelings for him, the engagement was most certainly not real.

“Yeah, that’s true.” I rubbed my bare finger with my thumb. I kept the golf ball on a band that was my fake-engagement ring in a little dish on the bathroom counter at night. “I guess I can kind of see your point.”

He took another deep breath. I could practically feel his chest expand with his slow inhale. “Last night was…”

I bit my lip, waiting for him to continue. It was what? Amazing? Mind-blowing? A night that would alter the course of his life forever?

“It was hard for me,” he said. “You’re right, it was intense.”

Oh god, vulnerable Shepherd was showing himself again. That was worse than if he’d said it was the best sex he’d ever had. I wanted to grab him and cradle his head against my chest.

“Yeah, it was,” I said.

“But I’m glad I shared it with you.”

My heart did a little pirouette in my chest. “Me too.”

We lay together in silence for a moment. My toes brushed his leg and I almost gasped. I hadn’t realized I’d been stretching my foot toward him. Judging by how close his leg was, he’d been doing the same.

Reaching. Inching toward each other.

“Everly?”

“Yeah?”

He hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me toward him. I found myself on his side of the bed for the first time, crossing yet another invisible line. He was shirtless, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. I could feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of my nightie.

He propped himself up to look down at me and skimmed his hand over my ribs. “I like you.”

“Okay, fine, I like you too.”

God, that smile. One corner of his mouth pulled up, puckering his dimple. The fact that he so rarely smiled made each one feel like gold.

He leaned down and brought his mouth to mine. His lips were firm, brushing across mine in a soft caress. I ran my hands across his dusting of chest hair. It felt so indulgent to touch him, here in his bed. Like I could finally have what I’d been secretly craving. Him.

His hand slid beneath my nightie and palmed my breast. The feel of him touching me like this made me want to purr like a cat. I ran my hands up his chest and around his back, feeling the hard planes of muscle. His body was positively glorious. Fit and strong, with bulges and ridges in all the right places.

The tension between my legs grew as he kissed and touched me. Why was he hesitating? Why didn’t he yank my clothes off, climb on top of me, and make it all better with that magnificent cock?

I wasn’t mad anymore, but my earlier pout-fest had left me with a lot of pent-up frustration. I wanted some of the fire from last night.

Tilting his head, he slanted his mouth over mine. He tasted so good, I wanted to bite him. I nipped at his bottom lip, and he groaned, pressing his erection against me.

That was interesting.

His tongue slid against mine and when he pulled back, I caught his lip between my teeth and held it. He growled, low in his throat. I bit harder, pulling on his lip with my teeth before letting go.

Grunting, he hooked his thumb beneath my panties and yanked them down. I kicked them off and pulled my nightie over my head while he took off his underwear and quickly got a condom.

Wasting no more time, he climbed on top of me, pressing the head of his cock against my opening. Despite the way my lady parts wanted me to beg him to fuck the hell out of me, another thought flitted through my mind.

Did Shepherd like pain?

He kissed down my neck as he slid inside. My eyes rolled back, the pressure of his thickness filling me. God, yes. He thrust in and out, his cock dragging through my wetness.

I ran my hands along his back. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he’d definitely reacted when I’d bitten his lip. I’d accidentally scratched him last night—and who could blame me? I’d been in the throes of the best sexual experience of my life. He’d said I couldn’t hurt him. But had he liked it?

He thrust again—hard—and I clutched at him, letting my fingernails dig into his back.

He growled into my neck, long and low, and his body melted against me. I did it again with his next thrust, scratching my nails down his back.

It drove him crazy.

I’d never felt a man react like this. He grunted, driving into me harder. The more I clawed at him, the more he let go. He was savage—muscles flexing, hips hammering. And I loved every bit of it.

He pulled out and turned me onto my tummy, smacking my ass as I rolled over. Giggling, I arched my back and he draped himself over me, thrusting in from behind.

His hand slid under my shoulder to my neck. With his face close to my ear, he wrapped his hand around my throat. I was pinned down, totally in his control. It was exhilarating. He grunted with every thrust, driving his cock in deep. This angle was amazing, giving me friction in all the right places.

“Don’t stop fucking me,” I said.

He growled in my ear. His grip on my throat was firm, without cutting off my air, and his cock drove into me in a steady rhythm. The heat in my core grew, the tantalizing pressure building.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he murmured. “I’m going to come in you so fucking hard.”

I gasped as he pulled out again, but I loved he way he manhandled me into the positions he wanted. He rolled onto his back and hauled me on top of him. I sank down onto his cock, reveling in the feeling of his thickness filling me.

He reached up and threaded his fingers through my hair, pulling my mouth to his. I rolled my hips to slide up and down his cock while he kissed me deeply. My tits dragged across his chest, his coarse hair tingling against my smooth skin.

Grinding him like this felt so good, I was teetering on the edge of climax in no time. I nipped his lip with my teeth and he let go of my hair to grab my hips. He thrust up, hard, as I rode him faster.

We were both lost in the moment, saturated with pure lust. His brow furrowed and he grunted, his cock thickening. I chased my orgasm to the brink, letting the tension overtake me.

Still grinding on him, I burst apart, my breathless moans filling the air. His cock throbbed, deep inside me, as we came together. It was magic, our bodies moving in sync, the waves of pleasure rolling through us both.

He pulled me down again, kissing me while my body trembled with the last pulses of my orgasm.

I slid off him and lay on the sheets, catching my breath. My eyes fluttered closed. I couldn’t move. He got up to deal with the condom, then I peeled myself out of bed to take care of basic necessities in the bathroom.

When I came back, he pulled me against him in the center of the bed, wrapping his arms around me. I rested my head against his shoulder, letting my arm drape across his chest. His skin on mine and the warmth of his body felt so good, I resolved to stop wearing pajamas to bed.

We lay together in silence for a few minutes. The rush of orgasm was gone, but it left a warm glow in its wake. I breathed him in and slid my fingers through his chest hair, completely relaxed.

“You know, maybe we should stop your dad from throwing this party,” I said, breaking the silence. “He’s going to spend all this time and effort for an engagement that isn’t real.”

Shepherd rested his cheek against my head. “True.”

“But the thing is, and maybe I’m imagining it, he seems so excited. Like this is fun for him.”

“It is. He was the one who planned all our birthday parties when Ethan and I were kids. He loves this stuff.”

“God, your dad is the cutest. What do you think we should do?”

He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me. “I think we play along. He’s spending my money, not his. And it’s giving him something else to focus on besides having cancer and trying to dig himself out of a financial hole.”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking, too.”

“I am going to get him to tone it down, though,” he said. “Dad has a tendency to go overboard. If we’re not careful, we might wind up with a two-hour fireworks show over Lake Union or a private concert by some old boy band.”

I laughed. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“He did. The fireworks were for my eleventh. I still don’t know how he got the city to issue the permits. The boy band was for Ethan’s thirteenth.”

“He got a boy band to play at Ethan’s thirteenth birthday party?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have encouraged him.”

“Probably not.”

“Sorry.”

He kissed my head. “Don’t be. We’ll get through it.”

I nestled into him, enjoying the warmth of his body. His arms around me. I was floating on a cloud of sex-induced endorphins, wrapped up in bed with the sexiest man I’d ever known. We would get through it. It was going to be fine.

We were going to be fine. I hoped.