The photographer walks closer. “Jessica, babe, lift your chin up toward him, like you’re about to whisper something sweet.”
She turns her head toward me and looks up.
The photographer snaps rapid-fire shots, eating this up like candy.
Jessica shifts again and this time she does it slowly, rolling and seductive.
I slide a hand under her thigh and lift her off my dick and onto my other thigh, away from the throbbing problem she just created.
Her breath hitches and she grabs my forearms for support as I transfer her weight.
The photographer beams. “Oh! I love that placement! Very editorial. Perfect, you two, hold that. Jessica, put your hand on his chest.”
She does.
I can feel her heartbeat through her entire body—loud, fast, frantic.
My thoughts aren’t thoughts anymore.
They’re feral fantasies I can’t shove down.
“Beautiful. That shot was pure chemistry. You two are incredible together.” The photographer finally lowers the camera.
They sit us on a loveseat for the interview. Jessica crosses her legs neatly, her hands folded on her knee. Perfect posture. Perfect smile. Perfect little liar.
I sit beside her like a man awaiting sentencing.
The interviewer beams. “So, Jessica, the world is dying to know… tell us about your first date with Captain Moreal.”
Jessica inhales softly.
Here we fucking go.
“Well…” she begins sweetly, smiling like sunshine. “our first date wasn’t really a date. We ran into each other at a little bakery. It was raining, and I didn’t have an umbrella, so he…” She glances at me lovingly, the lying little menace, “…shared his and walked me home so I wouldn’t get soaked.”
I force a smile, not entirely sure where this is going. We haven’t discussed this, and we most definitely should’ve.
“And while we walked,” she continues, “he told me about hockey. Not the games or the wins, but the way it makes him feel. It was… it was really vulnerable.”
My spine stiffens. She’s doing this on purpose. I don’t talk like that. I don’t get vulnerable.
Jessica lowers her voice, lashes dipping. “And then he walked me all the way to my building. And instead of saying goodnight and leaving like I expected, he waited. Just… stood there with me in the rain. Like he didn’t want it to end.”
I hate this. And I fucking hate that part of me is picturing it. Me, standing in the rain like a dumbass. Walking her home, listening to her talk, letting her listen to me talk.
The interviewer melts. “That is… that’s beautiful.”
Every camera in the room turns to me.
I look at Jessica, and she smiles at me like she didn’t just invent the most disgustingly romantic lie on planet Earth.
“So was the night and so was the girl.” I force my voice steady.
Inside, I’m raging. Because the longer she talks and the deeper she spins this ridiculous dream, the more I want it to be real.
The interviewer beams. “So, Jessica… could you walk us through your first date?”
Jessica lights up, and I brace myself.
