Dirty Sexy Player, Page 5

  Yeah, definitely that.

  He slipped the ring over my knuckle to put it into place. It fit perfectly, which made me certain that Donovan had had a hand in it.

  “Elizabeth Dyson, will you do me the honor,” he said in a very warm tone, as he dropped to a knee, “of becoming my bride.”

  Part of me wondered if he should’ve added the word fake in there, because that’s what this was. It was fake; it wasn’t real. Even though this moment was beginning to feel very, very real.

  But on the other hand, it would be a real wedding. We would have real marriage certificates. It would really be on file in the state of New York, and when we got divorced, that would really be on our record, too. We would have to file taxes together.

  There wasn’t really anything fake about this fake wedding at all.

  So maybe how he’d asked was appropriate indeed. And there was only one appropriate answer for him.

  “Yes, Weston King, I will.”

  Five

  Elizabeth craned her neck to look past me out the car window.

  “This is where you like to hang out?” she asked when she saw where the car had stopped. “There’s a line a mile long.”

  It had been two days since we’d decided to get engaged, and we were putting the scheme into action. She’d taken the ring off her finger for now, figuring it best to wait to announce the engagement until after we’d had a few public sightings. This would be our first, but so far, she’d complained from the minute she’d picked me up, and if she kept it up, I was going to have to…

  Well, I wasn’t sure what I was going to have to do, but I knew what I wanted to do. Especially with her wearing that black and white striped sundress with the kind of skirt that bounced up just the way I liked—it was simple and elegant and not at all what most women her age would wear on a date that involved a nightclub, but somehow, with those strappy high designer fuck-me shoes, she pulled it off.

  Problem was, it also made me want to do just that—strap her high on my waist and fuck her.

  But I wanted to do that with most girls I spent any time with. Elizabeth Dyson might be my favorite brand of sexy, but she wasn’t special. I could fuck her once or twice, but eventually I’d get bored with her, like I always did, and then I’d still be stuck with her through our arrangement. It would feel like a real relationship, and I had zero interest in that.

  Besides, I was about ninety-nine point nine percent sure that Elizabeth was not the type to fuck around for fun.

  That point one percent of doubt was what my cock kept twitching about.

  “The line wouldn’t have formed yet if we had come straight here instead of going to dinner first,” I said, with an edge of complaint of my own. “I never take my dates to dinner.”

  “That’s exactly why we had to go. I’m not supposed to be like all your other girls. I’m the woman you’re going to choose to marry.” It wasn’t the first time she’d explained this tonight, and it showed in her tone.

  “Right, right.” Except if I ever did get married, I was still sure I’d never let the woman drag me to the French froufrou place Elizabeth had insisted on going.

  Thank God that part of the night was behind us. Now we were on to the fun. Since she’d said that we would need to be seen out on the town, and since she didn’t have any regular haunts, I’d recommended the place I frequented.

  That meant The Sky Launch.

  “Anyway, don’t worry,” I assured her as I pulled her out of the backseat, feeling oddly comforted by the contact of her hand. “The line isn’t for us.”

  It was a Friday night so the club was busy, even though it wasn’t yet ten o’clock. I was known here, so I pulled her to the front desk where the bouncer let us in with a nod. We were halfway up the entrance ramp when Gwen, one of the managers, approached and gave me a hug.

  I felt Elizabeth stiffen at my side, and so, simply to rile her up more, I kissed Gwen on the cheek, something I didn’t normally do because she was happily married with children.

  Sometimes I’m a dick just because it’s fun.

  “It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been here,” Gwen said, prying.

  “I’ve been...preoccupied,” I said, making it sound like the things that had kept me busy had been sexy things.

  They hadn’t been. Not recently. The office really had grown too big to manage with just Nate and me. But it wasn’t cool to admit to being a workaholic. Plus, I liked the way it made Elizabeth silently fret.

  As though prompted by my thoughts, the woman at my side cleared her throat.

  “Gwen, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Elizabeth Dyson.”

  Gwen’s brow arched in surprise. “Did you say...girlfriend?”

  I had almost tripped over the word myself. I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually used the word in reference to anyone connected to me in the whole time I’d been alive.

  “I did. I did say girlfriend.” I was saying it again, just to get used to the sound. Girlfriend. It wasn’t that terrifying, really. Girl. Friend. Nothing to it.

  “This must be serious then.” Gwen turned to Elizabeth and shook her hand, then held it with both of hers. “I’ve known Weston for quite some time now, and he’s yet to have introduced me to anyone as his girlfriend. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes wandered over to the wedding ring on Gwen’s finger and I saw her expression relax just a bit.

  There went that fun.

  “It’s been a whirlwind of a romance,” Elizabeth said, and I had to look down at my shoes so that no one saw how utterly disgusted I was with her phrasing. Whirlwind of a romance didn’t sound convincing; it sounded like a bad Hallmark movie.

  I needed to remember to tell her that later.

  “I’m delighted to finally meet some of Weston’s...friends?” Elizabeth said friends with a bit of a question in her tone, as though she wasn’t sure how to refer to Gwen.

  “Gwen is one of the managers here at The Sky Launch,” I said, taking pity on my girlfriend—the more I thought the word, the easier it came out. “She knows how to take care of us. Is my regular spot available?”

  “Of course,” Gwen assured me. “I had a bubble room saved the minute you called and said you were coming. Right this way.”

  We followed Gwen across the dance floor and up the stairs to the second floor of the nightclub, and though I held Elizabeth’s hand in mine as we walked across the dance floor, I made sure to keep my eyes on Gwen’s behind.

  I was a player; it was to be expected, and I liked the way it made Elizabeth bristle and fume. Plus, it was important she knew early on that although she was marrying me, my eyes could still wander.

  It was a fake marriage. I still got to look.

  In fact, I still got to fool around—discreetly, of course.

  On the second floor, Gwen handed us off to the waitress who showed us to our bubble room, one of several that overlooked the dance floor below. These rooms were the highlight of The Sky Launch, the reason that I loved this club so much. The tables were enclosed in a private setting, but the wall around them was glass so that you could see out and everyone could see in.

  It combined the perks of VIP with all the exhibitionism I could want.

  “This is interesting,” Elizabeth said with what sounded like disdain in her tone, once she was seated at the table and the waitress had left.

  I unbuttoned my sports jacket and threw her a glare. I couldn’t imagine the places that she hung out.

  Actually, I could. Boring places. Coffee places. Places that only served wine. Places that required you to wear a tux.

  Places I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t be forced to frequent as part of this charade.

  “If you hate it so much, make sure we’re seen here tonight, and we don’t have to come back again.” I picked up my drink menu even though I knew what I was going to get, just so I didn’t have to look at her for a minute. Looking at her confused me too much.

  It was hard to correlat
e that rockin’ body with the things that came out of her mouth.

  “I didn’t say that it was terrible. I said it was interesting. I haven’t been here long enough to find out if it’s terrible.” She looked out at the dance floor beneath us, gazing at the sea of sweaty bodies pulsing to the steady beat. “I like that you can have a conversation in here. While the music’s going. That’s nice.”

  The hint couldn’t have been stronger. I set my menu down and gave her my attention. “Let me guess, you have something you want to talk about.”

  “There is something I think that we should go over. I hadn’t thought that we needed to talk about it as soon as tonight, but I realize now that we do.” She was talking fast and not looking at me, and I could sense she was maybe nervous, which intrigued me to no end.

  “Go on.”

  “You do know you can’t see other women while we’re engaged, right?” She looked up at me now and met my eyes. Her irises were startlingly blue, almost as startlingly blue as my balls were going to be from what she just said.

  Except that she was wrong.

  So I corrected her. “You mean no one can find out that I’m sleeping with anyone.” She couldn’t actually be suggesting I wouldn’t sleep with anybody. For seven months? I couldn’t remember the last time I went seven days. It wasn’t going to happen.

  She sighed, a great big heavy sigh that brought her whole upper body to rest on the table between us, drawing my eyes to the way her breasts peeked over the neckline of her dress. “No, Weston. I mean, you can’t sleep with anyone. Even discreetly. It’s too big of a risk.”

  I laughed. Then I started scanning the ceiling for hidden cameras. “Is there a film crew in here somewhere? Because there’s no way you’re serious.”

  “I knew this wasn’t going to work. You can’t keep it in your pants for even a minute, can you?” She picked up her phone and started to text somebody. “There’s just too much on the line for me here. Donovan should’ve been the one to volunteer; he would have been able to go seven months.”

  “Are you texting Donovan?” I wasn’t sure if it bothered me more that she was texting Donovan while she was on a date with me, or that she’d suggested Donovan had the strength to do anything longer than I did.

  Either way, I was bothered. A lot.

  “Stop,” I said. “Don’t text him. There’s no need. I just didn’t know. We hadn’t discussed it yet. That’s all.” I ran a hand down my thigh back and forth, back and forth. Fuck, was I really, actually, agreeing to discuss this?

  “I already texted him,” she said smugly, setting the phone down. “It’s too late.”

  I rolled my eyes. “We don’t need his input. Let’s discuss this, just you and me.”

  “It’s just you and me right now. Go for it.” Her tone wasn’t angry or unreasonable. She was simply meeting the obstacle head-on.

  Which was admirable.

  I owed it to her to be admirable as well.

  I stretched my neck, trying to get rid of the kink that had suddenly shown up, and thought quickly. “You know,” I said, leaning forward. “A lot of guys get married, and it doesn’t mean they stop fooling around.”

  God, that sounded terrible. I didn’t know if I’d ever get married for real, but if I did, I didn’t want to be the kind of guy who fooled around on his woman.

  But I wasn’t getting married for real. So it was okay to play an asshole in this marriage. Hell, maybe it could even give us fuel for our divorce.

  I was about to suggest that, but she spoke before I could.

  “I’m sure that’s acceptable among some people.” She sneered as she emphasized ‘some people.’ I didn’t know who some people were, but if some people were the kind that fooled around on their fiancées she’d had every right to sneer. “But I can’t be engaged to that. I wouldn’t tolerate it. Weston King would bring his girlfriend to this club, so we’re here. Elizabeth Dyson wouldn’t stand for a fiancé fucking around behind her back—”

  “This wouldn’t exactly be behind your back.” Maybe it wasn’t the right time for a joke.

  “And she definitely wouldn’t stand for it in front of her face.”

  I wracked my brain trying to figure out where all of this was coming from. Certainly the evening hadn’t gone that badly. Had it? “Is this about the hostess at the restaurant?”

  “I came out of the bathroom, and she was at our table giving you her phone number.” She’d lowered her voice as if even letting me know that a girl had been flirting with me might be telling too many people.

  I knew it!

  I took a breath so I wouldn’t get too eager in my explanation. “First of all, she was not giving me her number.” I’d known Lexie from somewhere or other and she’d come over to show me pics of her new clit piercing. Elizabeth must have seen me take Lexie’s cell phone and assumed we were exchanging numbers.

  Now that I thought about it, the real explanation didn’t sound any better.

  “It doesn’t matter what really happened,” Elizabeth said now, her volume rising. “It matters what it looked like. And it looked like she was trying to hook up with you while you were on a date with me.”

  Her nostrils flared, and angry splotches of red appeared on the creamy skin below her collarbone.

  She was cute like that, all flustered and worked up. I could imagine that blush creeping up her neck and flooding her face when she was lost in a fit of passion. Part of me wanted to see her like that. All frantic and unnerved because she was squirming underneath me…

  Whoa. Hold on there.

  We had to change the topic. “Fine. We’ll be monogamous. Or not sexual. Whatever. I was just throwing the idea out there. We were talking about making it look real and everything.” Good God, I hoped she knew what she was asking of me.

  The doors opened to the room, and I realized we didn’t have the privacy setting on. It was the waitress coming to take our drink order. I chose the house gin specialty, a martini made with house-infused spirits and a Meyer lemon-rosemary simple syrup. Elizabeth ordered—surprise, surprise—a glass of Merlot. The waitress left and Elizabeth’s phone shook with the vibration of an incoming text.

  She picked it up and I tried not to look like I cared about what it said, but I wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “Donovan says there’s already a pool going to see how long you can make it.” She typed something in response and threw her phone into her purse.

  I wrinkled my brows. “A pool? Betting how long I can go without sex? That’s ludicrous.” Though it wasn’t really that ludicrous because I was already having withdrawals and I hadn’t even gone without sex yet.

  I was also more than a little annoyed with Donovan for turning my sacrifice into office amusement. “Who’s in on this pool? What did you respond with?”

  “I put in a wager for two weeks.”

  I laughed, a real, hearty, from-the-belly laugh. That was not at all what I had expected her to say. “That doesn’t serve you well if I fail within two weeks. You need me to stay celibate for seven months.”

  “I do need you to stay celibate for seven months, but at least I get something if you fail as soon as I think you’re going to fail at this rate.” She was annoyed.

  “At this rate? I’ve been a perfect gentleman all evening. What makes you so certain I’m going to fail?”

  “You can’t even keep your eyes off the waitress.”

  I’d been checking out the waitress? It was so natural I hadn’t noticed it. I couldn’t even remember what she’d been wearing, or whether her hair had been long or short.

  Honestly, the only woman I’d been thinking about all evening was the one sitting across from me, the one in the dress with the tight top that molded against her full, round breasts. The one with the mouth that curved naturally down into a kissable pout. The one whose hair lay in perfect cascades down her shoulders.

  “Well, fuck you all. I can make it the whole goddamn seven months. You’ll see.”

  And of course, t
hat’s what Donovan had meant to do by having a pool in the first place. He knew it would just get me all up in arms. Get me all pissed and want to prove everyone wrong. He wasn’t even here, and he still knew just what to say to push my buttons.

  I could never decide if he was an outrageous asshole or a giant I could never measure up to. Maybe he was both combined—an outrageously giant asshole.

  “Then it’s settled?” she asked, with that snotty look on her face and just the smallest touch of doubt. The littlest hint of vulnerability.

  It was that hint that made her so soft when she was trying to be so hard. That hint that made me want to reach across the table and touch her, even just take her hand in mine.

  But I didn’t.

  I had to remember that she was also the woman putting a chastity belt on my lower regions for more than half of the year. Just thinking about it made my balls ache.

  “It’s settled.” Thank fucking God for porn and my left hand.

  “Then I’ll cancel my wager.”

  “You aren’t doing me any favors,” I said, maybe a bit too harshly. “But thank you.”

  We were silent then, the conversation killed by abstinence. Sure there were still things to say, things to work out, but I wasn’t in the mood to get into wedding details and I sure as hell wasn’t getting into business now. The Sky Launch was sacred. This was not a place for business.

  Elizabeth took the silence as something else. “I’m sorry, Weston. I really am. I imagine that a healthy sex life is important to—”

  “Don’t apologize.” I didn’t want to hear Elizabeth Dyson discussing my overactive dick. I couldn’t control my hard-on already.

  We fell back into the quiet. The waitress came in, left our drinks on the table along with the tab.

  A romper. Long auburn hair.

  That’s what the waitress was wearing, that’s what she looked like. I made sure to notice this time. Truth is, there was a time I would have noticed earlier.

  Hell, maybe it was time for a cleanse. I had been bored lately. Maybe a sex break would solve that. Not that I wanted to find out, but since I didn’t really have a choice…