Home > The Pretend Boyfriend (The Pretend Boyfriend #4)(5)

The Pretend Boyfriend (The Pretend Boyfriend #4)(5)
Author: Artemis Hunt

She tries to imagine what it is like to have this man as a boyfriend. The way that inconspicuous Samantha Fox seems to have. To have him on your arm in the open, to flaunt him in front of all the gawkers and people you don’t know on the street. Brian is very handsome, of course, but he possesses that extra charismatic quality that makes him stand out in a crowd. That quality which makes you swivel your head to look twice.

If only . . .

She narrows her eyes.

His c**k is now turgid and standing up like a flagpole. He shifts his body slightly and murmurs something in his semi-sleep. He’s not fully awake. Not yet. And no wonder. Two days have passed, and they have been scant out of bed. It’s as though she’s making up for years and years of lost time.

She keeps on massaging his cock. She curls her fingers around the bulb. She ensnares his shaft and rubs it back and forth. With her other hand, she cups his balls and tweaks them gently.

He opens his eyes drowsily.

“What time is it?” he mumbles.

“Time for more sex.” She tightens her grip on his c**k and balls. “I want more sex.”

He groans. “I’ve got to be getting back to Sam. Please, Delilah. She’ll call the cops if I don’t turn up sometime.”

“After we have sex. Then you can go. But I want you back tomorrow night.”

He lies very still for a moment. Her flashing eyes meet his crystalline green ones. Then his eyes slide away.

“All right,” he says. His tone is listless, even though his c**k is anything but.

He stays very still as she lowers her pu**y down on his upright pointing head. She feels the familiar pushing back of her tunnel walls as his considerable girth spreads her. She mounts him all the way to his hilt, and then she begins to move on top of him. She never takes her eyes off his face for a second.

Neither does he from her.

They f**k without speaking. There are no words to say.

4

Thor is handsome, but a bit of a lunk head, Sam decides. He goes on and on about his workout. Of course, she’s interested in all the different gym equipment routines, and how much creatine he takes and how much muscle mass he’s building. But she wishes he would talk something else besides shop.

They are in a bar. Not the one she had been parked out at. That one looks a little rough. This is a nicer bar with nicer clientele. They are all dancing to something by Usher, and her feet begin to tap despite her moroseness.

She’s not completely morose, of course. The vodka and lime helped to clear her head, dull her senses, and tease her into a false sense of euphoria. Thor’s earnest face swims in her line of vision and she shakes herself mentally.

Time to go home.

“I think I’d better go home, Thor.” Her speech is slightly slurred. She hasn’t had so much to drink in a very long time.

“What’s the rush?” he says. “It’s only midnight.”

“We both have to work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but you’re the boss. You can come in anytime. And my shift doesn’t begin until two.” He pushes her half-empty glass to her. “Have some more.”

Sam groans. “No. No more. I have a headache, and I’m sure as hell gonna have a monster of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Going home to lover boy?” Thor’s tone is nonchalant, but she catches the slight edge in it.

“I’m going home, period,” she says firmly. Her relationship with Brian Morton is none of the staff’s business, though they are curious enough to gossip daily about it.

“You’re not in the position to drive.”

“You’re not either.”

He grins. “Better than you. What do you say I drive you home and you can pick your car up later tomorrow?”

She glances at her wristwatch. “Tomorrow officially begins now.”

“OK, later today.”

He’s still oozing charm. Smiling that slow smile that has several women at the tables around them tossing their heads to glance at him and her enviously. Sam wonders what it is about her lately that she seems to attract gorgeous men. Where were these men when she was twenty-five and lonesome?

“I don’t know,” she says. On one hand, she doesn’t want to blow Thor off. He is her employee, for one, and it wouldn’t do to sour employee relations. On the other hand, she has this prickly feeling that he’s going to hit on her.

Well, if he does, she thinks soberly, I’m going to turn him down nice and easy.

But does she really want to? Especially when Brian is having a g*y old time getting reacquainted with his old college flame, whatever the reasons. With Brian, she can never be one hundred percent sure why he does the things he does. Every time she thinks they are on to something major – like a new level in their relationship – he does something to make her doubt him completely.

He has been through a lot lately, and she knows she should cut him some slack. A lot of slack. But the terrible, choking feeling that he is with Adele Jankovic – fucking, no less – continues to invade her consciousness.

Another thought suddenly strikes her. Maybe she is barking up the wrong line of conviction. Adele Jankovic is unstable. Obsessed. Dangerous. Perhaps she has Brian in her clutches, and she has drugged him. Imprisoned him. Hurt him!

Is it even possible?

Sam sits up suddenly. She should be calling the police.

“What’s the matter?” Thor says.

But why should Delilah do that to Brian, right? She already has Brian in her clutches – where she wants him. In actual prison. All she has to do is wait for two weeks. So what is Brian doing in her place? What, what, what?

Sam’s head is spinning. She buries her face in her hands and groans. Thor is right. She is in no position to make monumental decisions, let alone drive home.

Thor gets up and firmly takes her arm.

“Let’s get you home,” he says.

She realizes that she’s in no shape to argue.

*

By the time they get to her apartment, Sam’s blood alcohol has hit a limit that has her tripping over her own feet. Thor practically has to carry her into the elevator.

Sam laughs gaily. The world seems preternaturally bright. All those wonderful colors. And the slats of light with their haloes.

Thor smiles at her.

“Let’s get you into bed, shall we?”

Tipsy as she is, Sam is well aware of the pass he is making at her. A large part of her is screaming ‘No! Don’t make a mistake!’ But when she thinks of Brian in the arms of that redheaded vixen, her blood runs cold again. And hot. And cold.

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