Page 17 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

Am I really doing this?

I step inside the cab and stand very still, not wanting to disturb one curl on my head. It’s been sprayed with so much product that I’ll surely be responsible for a new hole in the ozone.

The elevator descends and stops on another floor. The door opens, and Nathan appears exactly like before.

This time, though, everything is different, and it’s not just because I’m wearing clothes.

9/

nathan

Awkward Little Nudist

I’m not sure what happened to my adorkable little nudist, but Jeanie has transformed into an elegant, sunshiny goddess. She’s the only woman I’ve ever met who looks as good with clothes on as off. And as someone who thoroughly enjoys naked women, that’s an achievement worth an award. The sexy as fuck award.

“You look incredible.” I step inside and immediately want to touch her.

Hell, I want to do more than touch her. I want to taste her creamy skin and lick those raspberry-frosted lips. Somehow, though, I manage to keep my distance. For now, I’m ecstatic she showed up. Ninety-nine percent of me thought she wouldn’t.

“But does it live up to milkshake panties?” She swings her hips and the hem of her dress flutters, revealing more of her luscious legs.

I want to pin her against the wall, so my fingers can explore what’s underneath.

“The milkshake undies are hard to beat.” My grin is so wide, she might be able to read my dirty mind.

I think she has read my true intentions when the elevator door slides closed and her expression shifts. Turning serious, she leans forward and presses the emergency stop button, causing the elevator cab to halt mid-descent. The lights flicker and a buzzing noise fills the air.

“Is this the part where you get naked again?” I grin.

“I want to steal back Roman,” she says quickly, rushing the words.

What? Fuck no. Why do women do this to themselves?

Even with this terrible development, I do my best not to react.

Giving me a pleading look, she twists her hands at her stomach. “I’m using you. That’s why I’m here. This thing we’re doing tonight will make him jealous. He’ll realize he made a mistake, and then call off the wedding and come home.”

“More awkward confessions. I like it.”

But I don’t like it, not one goddamn bit.

That sniveling idiot doesn’t deserve her. Never has. Never will.

Do I? Hell no.

But I’m not going to ask her for a lifetime—I’m going to ask for one hot night between her legs. She’ll thank me for making her forget him for a few hours. Given the opportunity, I could wipe him from her brain.

“Therefore, I need to know why you’re doing this.” She waves a hand between us. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. Right now, you could be at Mango’s Club on South Beach, dancing with ten feather-clad Brazilian beauties. Instead, your royal hotness is here with me. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Royal hotness?”

Now we’re getting somewhere. I gloss over the fact that I do know her, or I used to admire her from afar. Leaning against the wall, I shove my hands into the pockets of my suit, feeling smug.

“Don’t get cocky on me.” She stabs a finger at me in a way that makes my mommy issues rush to attention. “What’s important here is the why.”

I stare at her spectacular ankles perched over red-bottom heels, wondering how I should play this. She’s asking for my motives. And I’ll admit, there are a few.

One, I can’t wait for Roman to see his ex-wife on my arm. Whether the date is legit or not, I’ll make it clear I’m letting her ride my dick ten ways to Sunday and back and forth on a cross-country tour. The asshole deserves it for what he did to me, and whatever messed-up thing he’s done to her.