

Because You Want Me (Falling For You, Book One)

Ava Claire

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Copyright © 2015 Ava Claire

The Falling For You Series

Because You Want Me (Falling For You, Book One)--May 29

Because You Need Me (Falling For You, Book Two)--June 26

Because You Love Me (Falling For You, Book Three)--July 24

E-book License Edition Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Chapter One: Penny

Who the hell has a bachelorette party at a sex club?

As if my thought had been said aloud, my sister's maid of honor, Lara, whipped around to glare at me. "You don't seem very excited, Penelope."

Her icy blue eyes glowed with enough unsettling excitement to light up the city. I knew that look...and it meant trouble. Even a deep breath wasn't enough to prepare me for the dig that was coming.

"Who knows?" She gave me a jolting nudge with her shoulder. "Maybe you'll find a date for the wedding."

Her one-two punch made my sister's friends giggle just like they always had. There was only three of them, plus me to round out the bridal party, but their laughter nearly monsooned the trance music that seeped through the foreboding red door.

Blow One: a name that I'd downplayed since an extraordinarily creative bully called me 'Pee Pee Penelope'. I've been Penny ever since. The only holdouts who insisted on calling me by my full name were my mother and Lara. Lara only whipped it out when she wanted to remind me of just how out of place I was.

Blow Two: my lack of a date. It didn't matter that I'd just gotten out of a two year relationship with a guy who was perfect on paper. I'd been on my way to my own happily ever after. To Lara, and all my sister's monogrammed, robot friends, I'd always be Victoria Robertson's unfortunate little sister.

I'd worked so hard to put those years, hurts, and insecurities behind me. It had little to do with the therapy my neurotic mother insisted on when I was at my out of state liberal arts college, so far away from the Ivy League path they'd wanted for me. In college, I found my passion: working with special needs children. Children that were forgotten and treated like inconveniences. I welcomed the challenge, helping them reach the goals they never dared to dream, and break away from the labels put on them by their parents and an indifferent school administration.

I knew who I was and what I was worth. That quiet girl who sat at the back of the class, wishing for invisibility--she was a far cry from the woman who went to every school board meeting advocating for my kids, and told the man I thought was the love of my life to go straight to hell when he came clean about all of his out of town 'business' trips.

But standing at the entrance of the Red Door Club, surrounded by impeccable dresses, perfectly applied makeup, hair that fell just right, and Lara's smug, high pitched voice was a one way ticket to my past. I almost pushed my non existent glasses to the bridge of my nose.

I caught myself and pulled the sides of my mouth into something smile-like. "Excited? I'm super excited. Stoked, even."

That drew my sister's crystal blue eyes, her winged eyeliner magnifying her annoyance. I knew the glare was just the prologue.

Victoria pivoted on her stiletto heels, facing me with both hands planted on her hips. I was familiar with the exasperated look that turned her usually perfect features into something human. Agitation darkened her eyes to navy and her cheeks were as red as the cocktail dress that clung to her lean frame. "Is it too much to ask that you be a team player for one night? I mean really, Penny. Let your hair down and have some fun!"

I wanted to tell her yes, it was too much to ask. These girls weren't my friends. And my sister knew me about as well as they did, which was not at all. We may have looked like any other group of twenty somethings out on the town, looking for something to get into, but appearances were deceiving. Sure, I'd grown into my long legs, and the curves that had been chalked up to baby fat were now in all the right places. I looked like I belonged, but I still felt like the odd woman out. To them, I always would be.

If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change the way you think about it.

It was something I told my students, but it wasn't always easy to practice what I preached.

The whole party was put on hold as Victoria waited for me to capitulate; which meant dropping to my knees and apologizing profusely. Act like I was thrilled about going to a sex club with a group of girls that used to think it was fun to remind me just how few guys at Presidio Heights High found me attractive. At least at a strip club I could get a few drinks.

When we'd arrived at the sex club, we were greeted by a burly man who spit out a hello and directed us to framed rules on an easel beside him. No alcohol on the premises (ugh) was followed by a list of all the things we learned back in kindergarten, things like 'no means no' and not touching people without their permission. The fact that we were going somewhere where good old fashioned manners had to be reiterated, that we were being dragged to some sex club at all, did not excite me.

It terrified me.

I hadn't been with a guy in months, not since I broke up with Marshall. The day I walked away, he told me that he was into being sexually dominated, opening pandora's box of kinks and fetishes as if that was an excuse for cheating on me. It seemed especially cruel because with him, I felt free to talk about sex, to be sexual; to be as close to me as I'd ever been with anyone. I'd realized how important having an open and honest sex life with a caring and passionate partner was...and now I was about to step into a world where strangers fucked each other.

Tears of frustration clouded my view as my sister rounded out a "Well?". It killed me that we weren't closer; that I couldn't pull her aside and tell her that this was all too much. We were virtual strangers and she either couldn't or wouldn't look me in the eye and see that I was moments away from running, no, screaming, in the opposite direction.

So I had a choice. I could tell them all to fuck off and that I'd catch them at the bridal brunch in the morning, or I could just grin and bear it. This week wasn't about me, after all. I could be the kind of sister I wish I had.

I put aside my hurt and mumbled what she wanted to hear. "You know what? You're right." A rush of whispers echoed across the group, but all conversation was silenced with a single look from my sister. Not because I was speaking, mind you. She wanted everyone to witness me begging for her forgiveness.

The bitterness was sour on my tongue, the knots twisting my stomach until I wasn't sure if I was more angry or nauseous.

I forced a grin. "This should be fun. Let's celebrate one of your last nights of freedom."

Usually, I'd get a once over, a slow, visual investigation that made me squirm underneath the microscope. She'd be on the hunt for any signs that I was full of it. Tonight, she must not have cared much because she immediately wrapped her arms around my rigid body, squeezing me until it hurt.

She released me, a grin brightening her pretty face. All was right with the world as she took in her bridal party, mischief dancing its way back into her eyes. "You guys ready?"

I joined the chorus of 'Yes!' and the bouncer repeated his spiel. The bite of the San Francisco cold cut through my leather jacket, raking over my skin like talons. I wrapped my arms around myself and held onto my smile as tightly as I could. When the bouncer pulled back the red rope and Victoria charged through the door on a mission, I decided that tonight, I wasn't Penny Robertson. Tonight, I'd escape too. I could care less about wedding dates. I would let someone fuck me. Maybe someones if I was feeling really wild.

My new sense of adventure was short lived when we huddled around the reception desk. My eyes were drawn to a bowl of condoms, the aluminum squares every color you could imagine. The woman behind the desk had hair that was just as festive; purple, red, blue and orange, her rainbow strands pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. A name tag pinned to the front of the tube top her breasts spilled out of read 'Cherri'.

She smirked at the lot of us. "First time?"

"That obvious?" my sister said demurely. Flirting for her was as natural as breathing, regardless of gender.

Cherri let out a nervous giggle, her cheeks flushed as her dark eyes fluttered through the group. "You guys are gonna be a hit. What's the occasion?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but my sister's sixth sense picked up on it. She shot me a look over her bare shoulder that told me to shut it.

"Girls night out," she answered with a cryptic wink.

I could practically see the hearts beating in Cherri's eyes. "Wish I didn't have to work tonight so I could join you." She let out a melancholy sigh, then snapped to attention, her fingers flying across the keyboard of the laptop. "Single ladies are $40 each and I need each of you to show your id's and sign the guest list."

Victoria pulled out her American Express and covered the group. She glanced back at the lot of us, and we all obediently echoed our thanks.

I pulled out my driver's license and handed it to the woman. She barely looked at it before nodding at a guest list for me to sign. I opted to not put my email address in the optional space.

While they all chatted excitedly as Cherri finished getting us set up, I turned toward the long, dark corridor that stretched into the unknown. The music seemed to lure me, beckoning, the beat beneath something hypnotic that made me think of glow sticks and sweaty bodies gyrating. There was something intoxicating in the singer's voice.

I don't know if it was the fact that the dim lights masked me, or that they were pumping some sort of euphoric drug that mixed with the smoke that hung in the air, but the nerves in my stomach relaxed.

Maybe this won't be so bad, I thought, biting my lip. Maybe it'll even be-

The group hustled past me, nearly knocking me over like it was Black Friday and they'd be damned if they weren't leaving with that marked down flat screen TV.

"Meet back up at 1am at the door!" Victoria called back to me.

Any hope that I was feeling shriveled up and died as I watched them strut towards the music, leaving me to wonder what the hell I was doing. I leaned up against the lockers, the exit much closer than whatever lied beyond the smoke. I could go get the drink that I couldn't drink here and pop back up five minutes to 1, acting like I'd found someone that whisked me away for hours.

Just as I was about to make a break for it, I turned toward the door and forgot how to move. I forgot how to breathe.

I'd heard of love at first sight. Where you see the guy and you just know--he's going to change your life.

This was different.

Our eyes met and this was a different L word: lust.

It was more than the fact that he was impossibly hot. Clothes were meant to cover your body, to accentuate. On him, clothes were just a distraction. I wanted to rip them to shreds to get to what was beneath. I wanted to sweep my hands over his broad shoulders, run down the length of his tight abs as buttons flew all over the place. I needed to tear off his belt, praying that he went commando because I wanted nothing in the way between his cock and my hands. Nothing between his cock and my mouth.

He took a step forward and the light danced across his face. The ache between my thighs became a throb that pulsed in time to the music. Even at a distance, I made out the chiseled features; the strong jaw, hell, even his nose was sexy. His lips made me mentally grab onto something because when he smiled, I knew that I would do just about anything to see it again.

He hadn't even uttered a word and already I was scrambling to find something, anything to say because he was coming right at me with a look on his face that told me I wasn't the only one under some spell.

The panic that rose in my throat set fire to my vocal chords. One word, and I was toast. He'd see that I was awkward and not worth the trouble.

This is a sex club. He doesn't know you...or how awkward you are. How you still hurt every time you see something that reminds you of your ex. The whole point of these places is a fantasy. Within these doors, you can be whoever you want to be.

He stopped a few feet shy of me. Close enough that his scent, something bright and warm with an edge of mystery floated over me like a breeze. Perfect timing--just as beads of perspiration were dangerously close to giving me away.

His eyes contrasted beautifully with his dark hair, a deep green that made me think of some lush and exotic jungle. His smile was even more devastating up close.

I was suddenly glad that I'd borrowed one of Victoria's skintight dresses because his eyes swept over me in a single, satisfied glance.

"Hi," he breathed.

I melted inside, but I forced the nerves away, commanding my gaze to stay level with his and give nothing away. I wanted to say something clever, do something that he wasn't expecting.

So I made the next move, drawing so close to him that my breasts brushed against his chest. I perked on my toes, lips fluttering as I brushed the line of his jaw. I lingered, just in case this blew up in my face and this moment was all I got.

His nearness alone was intoxicating. What would tasting him do to me?

I licked my lips and the words that came out of my mouth were a sultry challenge that I hoped he'd accept.

"Hi yourself."

I spun on my heels and strutted in the opposite direction, hoping that the warmth of his gaze, following my departure intently, wasn't just wishful thinking.
Chapter Two: Xander

I came to the Red Door Club with one goal in mind: to blow off some steam. To escape.

To fuck.

In the boardroom, I'm ruthless. Don't believe the hallmark card, motivational poster bullshit. It's not about feelings. It's not personal.

I'm the CEO of Wade Enterprises, an investment firm. I take ideas and turn them into lucrative ventures. I round up failing businesses, liquidate them, and transform them into something bigger and better.

I don't hold hands. I go for the throat. And it's made me very, very wealthy. I work hard--and play even harder.

I have a reputation, VIP status at every club worth mentioning in the city. My weeks are spent in a high rise in the Financial District and my weekends are spent buried inside one of a revolving door of twenty-something's that I forget as soon as they saunter out of whatever penthouse room I arranged for the night.

Sex isn't about connection for me. It's about seeing someone at their most primal, and for a few hours, letting them see me at mine. Then I cut them loose and go back to being the monster. The businessman. Which made my father's proclamation this morning that much more insulting.

It wasn't enough that I took his modest company from profitable to Fortune 500. He wanted something from me that went against my life philosophy. Work first, play second, and anything else was irrelevant. I had no interest in settling down; family life, white picket fences. I'd tried that route and it left me alone and broken.

From that moment own, I fostered a different kind of dream. Long hours at the office, watching the profits soar to the stratosphere. I craved a life lived out of a suitcase, closing business deals on the company jet, then bringing home some pretty woman to warm my bed from time to time. It was my life. Mine.

The blow when his lawyer shared his last minute addendum to his will echoed like the words had just been uttered. I was back in the Maury Barrowman's office. Every piece of furniture was a stock image of the stereotype of a high powered law office. Cold and efficient. When he read the addition that pertained to me, I had to replay it, sure that I'd misheard. As the pieces dropped into place, control slipped from my fingers. A panic that I wasn't used to feeling settled over me. I was paralyzed by a sense of helplessness that I'm sure would have brought a smile to my old man's face--if he was the kind of man that smiled.

"If Xander Robert Wade fails to maintain a genuine, romantic relationship for a month, he will forfeit his right to head the company--and that responsibility will fall to Marie Rachel Wade."

I'd laughed at my father's bespectacled lawyer at first. For the briefest moment, I'd thought the pinched faced man would wink and shout, 'Gotcha!'. But he sat stony faced and silent, with the same painful expression he always wore. The joke was on me. A cruel, ironic joke--a father that had been absent until a few years ago would take the company I'd turned into a powerhouse and give it to my sister. My sister of all people! A smirking, irresponsible socialite who had been a thorn in my side since birth and had only gone into business to find some gullible businessman inches from the grave to support her shopping addiction. She'd stolen away on the gravy train, and I was going to be thrown from said train because I didn't have a girlfriend?

Hell no.

So I decided I'd play his little game. I'd find some suitable match and play the love game for a month. But I had an itch that needed to be scratched. One final night of debauchery before I played the role of dutiful boyfriend.

And then I saw her.

My fantasy of screwing as many hot women that I could get my hands on faded into the annoying trance music that filled my ears. Everything else became an annoying buzz that didn't compare to the hypnotic pull of the brunette standing near the lockers.

She looked delicious. Legs that went on for miles. Legs that I wanted wrapped around my waist--or spread wide. Two inches shorter and the sultry black dress would have been a shirt. My cock throbbed as I admired the way it skimmed her slender waist and clutched her hips. It ran out of fabric just where it was supposed to. Petite breasts attempted to spill out of the top, her skin glowing in the dim light.

I took a step forward but something in her stance made me pause. That wasn't a 'come hither' in the way she stood. Her body was locked in the tense, starting block pose of someone that was about to run for their life.

Her head turned and she saw me watching her and went still as a statue. A drop dead gorgeous statue that rumbled to life as I advanced toward her. It was like some curtain had been pulled and the lights flashed on as she raised her chin and rolled back her shoulders.

It was a valiant effort, but I could tell when someone was putting on a show. Usually, I had no patience for games. No time for them--I made it very clear up front who I was and who I was not. But there was something intriguing about her. An innocence that glittered in the grunge of a sex club.

So instead of heeding the lust that had me swollen, aching to push her against the lockers and hike up her skirt, I smiled instead.

"Hi." Just one word. It felt heavy and as airy as the smoke that hung in a fog around us. I wanted to clear it all out. With this woman, I didn't want the lights out. I wanted to see every beautiful inch of her.

The lust dripped from the word and she heard it and answered in kind, biting her lip for a millisecond before she released it and gave me a once over with eyes as alluring as the hair that spilled past her shoulders.

When she drew closer to me, I had to force the smile that wanted to own my lips to play it cool. There was nothing but fire in my veins when she pressed her chest against me, her face upturned and mine to admire. She was striking in a way that left me breathless. She had a dainty but stubborn chin. Her full, thick lips shone with a pink gloss that made me want to ravage her. My eyes took in her petite nose, nostrils flaring as I wondered what thoughts were running through her mind. And those eyes--I realized they weren't brown at all. They were a rich hazel, flickering with gold, filled with a passion that made me feel like I was the one on display. Like I was the one being hunted.

She leaned in and her hair smelled like strawberries and summer. I bit back a growl of want when her lips brushed my ear.

"Hi yourself."

She stepped backward, leaving me wanting, needing more. Before I could say something clever or do something bold like pull her back to me and kiss her, she walked away.

I watched her, stunned, as she faded into the smoke. The slim corridor seemed to vibrate around me, the lockers creaking like they were leaning in, just as enraptured by this mystery women as I was.

If you're smart, you'll let her go. Tonight wasn't about wooing. That was for the morning. My assistant, Caitlyn, had already lined up several potential matches that I'd be interviewing in between my meetings.

Tomorrow was for conversation. Tonight was for moans.

But my feet pulled me in her direction, questions firing one after the other in my head. Who was she? Why was she here when she so clearly didn't want to be? What would she taste like when I kissed her?

When...not if. Because I had no idea what tomorrow held, but I wasn't leaving this club without kissing her.

The rest of the people at the club barely registered on my radar. A couple pawed at each other in the doorway. A woman here, guys scattered there and everywhere. I didn't know if the music was hypnotizing me or if I was under some spell, but I studied her. The way she turned something as simple as walking into a dance that beckoned me to follow her lead.

The place was a maze and she navigated it like she knew the waters well. The Red Door Club had all the class you'd expect. I had a feeling the darkness was intended to hide the disrepair as much as ambience. Strobe lights flickered across monochrome walls.

She strutted into a room with a glass bar area that was just a tease. There was no alcohol served here, just water and soda, but the woman threw back a Sprite like it was a shot of tequila.

"Where have you been all my life?"

The high pitched, slightly slurred pick up line came from behind me. I pried my eyes from the bar and faced the petite blonde who slumped against the doorway. She clearly had a few drinks before she came to the club or brought the party with her. She fit the bill of what I usually went for--she even dropped her baby blue eyes to my crotch and licked her blood red lips. I normally would have found the corny introduction and boldness that radiated from her charming. Sexy as hell. There was something to be said about a woman who cut to the chase. My usual disclaimer would have been unnecessary because the look in her pale eyes told me she was searching for something hard, sinfully memorable, and temporary.

"There's this room downstairs-"

"Let me stop you right there," I cut her off with the most genial smile I could muster. The smoke must have been doing something to my head, because I was turning down exactly what I'd come here for. "You seem great, but I have my eye on someone else."

She let out a huff of annoyance and tossed her gaze around the room. Most people were partnered off or hovering around someone interesting. Everyone but my brunette in the black dress. She landed on her and her eyes bulged from her skull.

"Her?" Complete and utter shock dripped from the word--and a disdain that told me they knew each other and were far from friends.

I didn't owe the blonde an explanation and I didn't know the mystery woman at all, but I felt a sudden urge to protect her. To not only claim her but to let the fuming, jilted frenemy know that she didn't stand a chance.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" I beamed. I didn't wait for an answer, heading toward the brunette just as she turned in our direction. She looked past me to the other woman, then back at me, then back at her. Her eyes widened in surprise as she followed my path to the stool beside hers.

Her brow furrowed in the cutest way. "You must be lost."

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be," I answered smoothly. It sounded like a line. She frowned like it sounded like a line...but something inside me whispered that it was more. I wanted more from this woman. Luckily, the volume of the music intensified, drowning that crazy talk out.

She gave me another once over, this one decidedly less sexy than the first. "Designer jeans-"

"A keen eye for fashion," I winked, anticipating whatever biting jab she was about to throw my way.

She gestured at herself like a game show presenter who was sick of smiling that Colgate smile. "This is my sister's dress. I have the exact opposite of a keen eye for fashion. Now Lara on the other hand-"

When I raised an eyebrow-Who the hell is Lara?-she tilted her head in the direction of the doorway. The blonde I'd passed on was still standing there, shooting daggers at my head.

"She's very into fashion," she explained. "And into you. I'm sure she'd be all about doing whatever it is you came here to do."

"Whatever it is I came here to do?" I repeated with a grin. "You can't even say the word."

She cradled her drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. She gathered herself so she could keep pretending like she wanted to be here. "Not sure what you mean."

"I think you know exactly what I mean." I leaned in like I was going to tell her a secret, but it was really just a ploy to get closer to her. Her scent, her innocence, her tireless efforts to act like she was in her element when I could see the worry in her eyes...it was intriguing and sexy as hell.

"Fuck," I said quietly. There was nothing quiet or discreet about what she was doing to me. Sitting was officially uncomfortable and with one glance down, it was easy to see why. Her eyes never left mine though, my word twitching its way across her pretty features. It rounded her eyes, traced the lines in her forehead, danced across her flaring nostrils, then settled on her kiss bruised lips. She didn't repeat it, but I saw the heat rush to her cheeks. She fidgeted in her seat and I wondered how wet she was.

She cleared her throat. "To each their own. I didn't come here for...that."

"What did you come here for?" I probed.

She gave me a long, steady look. I was used to people cowering or shying from my gaze, but she knocked me off balance. With this woman, the fact that I was wealthy meant very little. She was suspicious of my charm. I'd thought the husky whisper when her lips brushing against my ear earlier was her way of showing she was interested, but she was an enigma. One moment she was biting her lip like she was struggling to suppress a moan, and the next she was looking right through me.

She ignored my question. "What do you want?"

I could have played the game a few more minutes, charmed a smile out of her. I decided to go with honesty. "I want to take you downstairs and make you forget any and everything but me...and all the ways I'm gonna fuck you."
Chapter Three: Penny

I'd clearly lost my mind.

It must have been the fog of delirium that choked out all rational thought. It turned our surroundings into something ethereal and mysterious. Stripped down, The Red Door Club was just a warehouse, sectioned off into rooms that I wouldn't want to see under a UV light. But the bar was sultry, multicolored and unfortunately, little more than decoration, vases glittering behind the glass. The music that had been annoying from the door had grown on me, pairing well with the stage and a sleek, stripper's pole that stretched to the ceiling. Stripper's poles weren't supposed to be sleek. And guys with impossibly good looks and bright eyes that made my world spin off its axis weren't supposed to choose me over girls that looked like Lara. Girls who filled out their dresses and demanded attention.

But he shot Lara down. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say that he was into me.

And then moans fluttered in from the hallway and I remembered.

Right.

Sex club.

He's not into you. He wants to screw you.

Any other night I'd be able to put aside that voice that wondered why I wasn't enough. I'd be secure in my accomplishments, comfortable in my skin. But this weekend was filled with all the ghosts from my past. Memories of how I'd look at my sister, with her lean legs and arms like mine, but with hips and boobs that I was lacking. How all the features that made people whisper how beautiful my mother and father and sister were ended up being exaggerated on me. All my faults were broadcasted--too skinny, nose almost perfect, lips a shy too big, eyes just a smudge too large. Almost beautiful.

Cute enough to land a couple of dead end boyfriends. Cute enough to screw. Finding someone that wanted more? Not so much.

But this stranger didn't know that I was pretending to be someone that I wasn't. Someone that was confident. Who could take or leave him as a lover. He didn't know that I was the silly girl that was sitting at an alcohol-less bar in a sex club, hoping that the sexiest guy in the place--hell, the sexiest guy I'd ever seen period--would want to wine and dine me before we got to the part where we ripped off each other's clothes.

I felt his gaze devouring me slowly, but I pretended I didn't. I pretended we had all the time in the world, lazily twirling my straw around my glass. His plans for me hung in the air unanswered, and it took everything in me to not clap my hands together with glee before I leapt into his arms and let him take me somewhere. Anywhere really. Right on the bar. On the stage. Or downstairs...

I surrendered and glanced in his direction. Not a good idea. Those eyes were dangerous. They were the kind of green you could get lost in and do all sorts of things you'd regret in the morning. "Let me get this straight. You want me to let you fuck me? Just like that?"

A smile teased its way across his handsome face. "Well, not just like that." He reached for me and my body weakly, traitorously, leaned toward toward him--but he just fondled one of my tresses, lifting the honey brown strand like it was something delicate.

And after he's done with you, he'll crush your heart beneath his feet.

He broke contact, his gaze flickering over my face and settling on my mouth. "From the moment our eyes met in the hall this began."

"This?" I said softly, giving in for the briefest moment. Letting my guard down.

"That's right." His voice filled the air around me, thick and rich. It just heightened my dreamlike state, especially when his touch returned to me, this time his fingertips stroking my jaw. "And then, I made the first move." In case I wasn't there and didn't remember how he turned a greeting into foreplay, he recounted the moment. "I said hello."

I barely had any clothes on, but I felt my temperature rising. The heat that radiated from him beat down on me and even though my sense of self preservation told me to scoot off the stool and run for my life, I basked in the warmth. I played with fire. "If I'm remembering correctly, I said 'Hi yourself' and walked away."

"Accuracy is essential." Before I could comment that he couldn't be drop dead gorgeous and using big words in my fragile state of mind, he pushed me to the edge, leaning in, cheek to cheek. I counted every second. One--he smelled like heaven. A masculine mixture of citrus and the woods just after it rained. Two--how was it possible that just the mere act of him breathing was sexy? That every breath that rippled from his body through mine made me ache? Three--I would compare every other kiss to his, and I knew I'd come up wanting every time.

He blazed a trail to my ear. Four-

"Hi yourself," he breathed lustily into my ear.

He pulled back and I nearly jumped his bones right there before I caught myself. I ripped my eyes from him, waving for another soda, clearing my throat to cover the fact that I was having trouble breathing because at the moment, I was wondering why I was fighting so hard to stop what felt so right.

The bartender slid over and refilled my cup with Sprite, giving me a look that said what my vagina had been saying for the past thirty minutes. Just sleep with him already! She turned her triple D's in his direction, adding her own P.S. Or I will.

I peeked over at him, totally expecting him to be sizing her up. In her leather bustier, it was hard not to stare. But he was just watching me. Studying me. Like he was breaking down the equation, step by step, and any moment he'd get the solution.

When he swept a hand through his dark locks, I bit my lip when I saw the way his forearms moved in the dark, muscular and strong. I wanted him to lift me, throw me over his shoulder and take me to one of those rooms, whether I wanted to or not. Every part of me wanted him, even my head that stubbornly put its foot down. "You can't look at me like that."

"Like what?" He said with an innocence that was guilty as sin.

"Like it's just a matter of time until you have me."

I didn't realize that I was clutching my glass until he plucked it from my hands and put it back on the bar. My retort got lost somewhere and I barely had time to sputter, to be offended, before he gave me a look so sure, so confident, so stunning that I just listened.

"Let's be clear. I'm a gentleman. I don't take what I want. And I don't chase women-"

"Then why are you here?" I bit off. It was too easy to glare him down, conjure up broken promises and the hollowness when someone I cared about told me I was great but he didn't like me 'like that'. This guy hadn't done anything more than show interest in me and my side eye was locked and loaded. This time, when I heard moans, felt the room fill with another single woman with a guy in hot pursuit, I wasn't invigorated. It was sobering.

Was he hot? Absolutely. Was I just going to drop my panties because he wanted me? I wanted my answer to be a single word. To be so sure that this time when I walked away I wasn't secretly hoping he'd follow.

I felt the contradiction brewing inside me and instead of just storming off, I gave it to him straight. "This may sound strange considering we're in a sex club, but I'm sick and tired of feeling like I'm disposable. Sure, we can go downstairs and lose ourselves for half an hour." He cocked an eyebrow and my core throbbed with want. With a single eyebrow, he gave me a look at all the ways he would turn me out. Make me moan. Make me beg...and half an hour wouldn't cut it. "Jesus Christ."

I reluctantly stole away--finding my reflection in the mirror that stretched behind the bar. I refused to retreat to him, his silhouette alone tripping me up. I didn't see the bartender, using her weapons on a more than willing guy who was practically climbing over the glass top to get to her. The disco ball that glittered above the stage no longer hypnotized me. The music was barely a hum compared to the thunder of my heart. The multicolored couches that held the memories of the countless beautiful, horny people that had cycled in and out of this place was just a jarring reminder of how I didn't belong here.

"I'm going to be more honest with you than I should be. I figure, you're going to realize that I'm not worth the headache and stalk off to find someone that is, but at least I can say that for once, I was real with someone other than my therapist." I stabbed at my drink, the ice clinking angrily. "I was on my way out the door when I saw you. Running away, because that's what I've done since...well, always." I really, really wanted something alcoholic, but I settled for a chunk of ice, crunching on it and swallowing the shards to fight the heat of 'Omgomg you're about to tell your sad life story to some hot guy who just wants to give you a night worth remembering--just shut up and screw him!'

"My sister's best friend has read one too many romance novels and thought it would be a hoot to switch it up and hold a bachelorette party at a sex club," I explained glumly. "My sister's getting married in two days and these precious last days of single-ness are supposed to be all about her, right? Except I've been making myself small and invisible and I'm just exhausted. I don't even know you and you don't know me, but I can tell you if my sister knew me she'd know that my ex cheated on me at places just like this and my reluctance to get my freak on has nothing to do with not being a team player. She never would have even asked it of me." I couldn't bear to look at him. To look over and see those intense eyes wide with disbelief or disgust. I looked at my eyes instead. No amount of smoke was able to hide the tears that blurred my view. "So, I'm back here, back with a family I avoid because I want to be seen. I want to be me. But I'm right back to hiding; wearing my sister's dress, pretending that we were bonding when she straightened my hair and did my makeup just like hers. And instead of leaving, I let myself pretend that I could have sex with some random, gorgeous man. But these aren't my clothes and I'm not that person, and even though the next few days are going to be torture, one night of bliss with you won't make me whole."

I finally took a breath. A deep one that filled my lungs and calmed my shaky nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, I fully expected to be alone. Who wouldn't flee? He didn't even know my name and I'd just given him my unsolicited life story. He came here with one goal in mind, and it wasn't to listen to me complain about my childhood, ex and family woes.

I opened them and slowly, painstakingly tilted my head in his direction. The tilt wasn't sufficient when I realized he was actually still beside me. It was like someone had plucked me out of the real world and dropped me into a movie. He was the lead with the face that launched a thousand sighs, every female audience member memorizing every line, every angle, all the shades of brown in his hair and the spectrum of green in his eyes. And somehow I was in the frame too, sitting beside a man that looked at me like I wasn't completely ridiculous. He actually looked intrigued.

I hadn't scared him away.

It was the sweetest and most terrifying thing. I knew what was wrong with me...what was wrong with him?

He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through a jarringly thick wad of cash. Either he was wealthy, or there was a strip club looming in his crystal ball. I pretended that I didn't notice him leave a startling amount of money as a tip, and waited for him to extricate himself from our awkward encounter.

"How about you and I get a real drink?"

I was too shocked to pick my jaw off the floor. "You want to get a drink with me? You don't even know my na-"

"I'm Xander." He said smoothly.

I could have guessed that was his name. Something exciting and a little edgy. He held out his hand.

This could all be some elaborate ruse to get in my pants. And even if it was, why wasn't I more bothered by it?

I shook his hand while I still had the nerve. "Penny." I did a quick sweep of my body with my free one, like that explained everything.

"It's a beautiful name." He cracked a grin that made me weak in the knees, his thumb stroking my skin. It sent a longing through me that confirmed my new worst fear--I was already addicted to his touch.

I decided I'd stay on the ride for a little while longer, slipping off the stool with a grace that surprised me. "I'd love to have a drink."
Chapter Four: Xander

I knew a handful of bars in the area that would have made a drink that scratched the itch we both so clearly needed scratched. I passed by each one, telling myself it was because they also offered a side of history that we did not need. Bartenders that would plunk our drinks down on coasters with smiles a little too obvious. Smiles that said, 'What number did this one grab?' and 'Poor girl--she better leave the stars in the sky because next week, he'll have someone new beside him, twirling her straw in her drink'. Or worst, that she'd look at me with those golden flecked eyes, asking me what was good when she really wanted to know how many girls sat in her seat, asking the exact same question.

Those thoughts were enough to make me awkwardly pause, tempted to just plow through the door. But I wasn't the kind of man that did awkward. Or plowed through anything. Or cared what thoughts or judgments that fluttered around in the bartender's heads.

But I cared what Penny thought.

And not just of me. I cared what she thought, period. Usually the only words I cared about from women I desired were yes and how soon they could get to whatever suite I'd arranged for the night. Yet every word Penny had uttered seemed to draw me closer. It was an unraveling of sorts, the ribbon unfurling into the darkness, the bottom unseen. The loss of control, the out of character need to see where this led, to get to know her, was unsettling. Yet, it was compelling in a way that kept me moving. That kept me glancing over at her, loving the flashes of her taut jaw and the curve of her sexy ass.

That was the balancing act. I'd think up something sweet, like the way she growled, 'no thank you' when I offered her my jacket, even though I saw the way she shivered in her cropped leather one. Then, I'd drop my gaze to familiar territory, like the way the jacket accentuated every delicious line of her body. It was a subconscious reminder that my goal, to fuck, hadn't changed just because I liked the way she smiled and refused to let her guard down with me. But I'd yet to do the same. My guard was still up and in full effect.

I hovered in front of Eddy's, the wind's gusts lifting my collar. I glanced in through the glass, the fingers at my side tingling as I did quick math in in my head. I've frequented this bar at least ten times, which means I picked up how many women if I'm being conservative?

"You're cold, I'm finally ready to admit that I'm cold, and this place seems like it's right up our alley. I'm like two seconds away from ditching you and waving from the bar that looks so warm and inviting. And warm." Her teeth chattered behind me and when I peered over my shoulder, I saw her arms wrapped tight around her body, her cheeks flushed red. The urge to kiss her was the first thing that hit me, the temperature quickly fading. There was no sign of hesitation when I turned to her, stepping close as her eyes widened. She'd gestured at herself when she told me her name, almost like she was explaining that's why she was the way she was. Average. Forgettable.

She couldn't be more wrong.

Before I could stop myself or overanalyze what had come over me, my hands cradled her cheeks, a heat with two ignition sources flickering to life inside me. On one hand, I wanted her. There was a gentleness about her that brought out a need to ravage her; to strip her down with more than just my gaze. Her skin was cool to the touch. From the way her lips quivered and she didn't yank from me, fleeing for the safety and warmth of Eddy's, I knew she was waiting for me to make my move.

The second place was something different. It noticed things I didn't notice before. Like the gold that weaved its way through her honey brown hair. The bits of green that sparked in her eyes as she scanned my face. The gentleness was hidden by skepticism now. If I was smart, I'd say something charming and pull her inside. The night had taken a turn since I saw her, and now that we were here, I saw no benefit in playing my usual game.

I leaned in, her delicate, floral scent cocooning me. I felt safe and reckless. I wanted to devour her--and I wanted to just stand on the sidewalk with my lips hovering above hers.

She took the leap for us. She lifted on her toes and I discovered that she tasted even better than I imagined. The only taste I'd been concerned with came from a place lower, between her thighs--but that was static. I tightened my hold and she let out a moan that echoed in my throat. My tongue dashed into her mouth, and she danced with me, filling all my senses until nothing existed outside of our kiss.

The lust dove back to the forefront when she pressed her body into mine, taking my bottom lip between her teeth and tugging. I wanted to say fuck the drink. I was already drunk off her, bound to make all sorts of romantic missteps I'd regret in the morning. I wanted more than the feel of her flesh wrapped around my flesh. I wanted to trace every inch of her with my fingers. I wanted to hear her story.

I froze, a thought bringing everything to a standstill.

I needed a girlfriend--and there was already these stirrings inside me...

Instead of reading more into it than you need to, just run with it.

Her eyes held so many questions and I decided to answer the easiest one: what's next?

I took another kiss, inhaling her deep before I released her with a smile. "Let's grab a drink."

Eddy's held all the charm of a proper San Francisco watering hole. Wood furnishings that dueled with the industrial beams and exposed metal bones of the building. Eco meets tech. Neutral colors surrounded us, gray and black chairs and tables filling the blank space. An ebony bar stretched the length of the room, scattered with women and men buzzing around them like flies.

I steered Penny toward the end of the bar. Two unoccupied stools were in the line of sight of a pink haired bartender, but offered us a degree of privacy.

My proposition could either be met with interest--or disgust. If this weird night was going to come crashing down, I wanted as few people as possible to witness the nosedive.

We settled in our seats, rubbing our hands together and letting the warmth in as the chatter rose around us. The change of venue was a good thing. The music at the club was meant to encourage less talking and more movement: dancing, grinding. I was a fan of both but here, I got to see the woman beneath the smoke.

And she was beautiful. Not in an overt, in your face kind of way that I usually went for. The makeup she wore actually did more hiding than accentuating. I wanted to wash all of it away so I could see all the layers of green and brown and gold in her hazel eyes. The delicate nostrils that flared as she pretended she was taking in the room and not watching me watch her told me that she was stubborn. Feisty. And those lips--the gloss was all but gone and I could make out the contours of her mouth. A mouth made for kissing.

She made a face at me before she turned away, trying to get the bartender's attention. "My mother always said it was impolite to stare."

"She should know better than anyone how impossible it is to not stare at you. You're beautiful, Penny."

The look she gave me was so incredulous that it made my fingers twitch into a fist, ready to take on whatever demons had convinced her to take compliments with a grain of salt. Before I could tell her that it wasn't a line, the bartender breezed toward us, her double nose rings gleaming as brightly as her smile.

"What can I get for you two?"

She ordered a vodka tonic with lime and I seconded her order.

"No bourbon?" she asked, eyebrow lifted in surprise.

"Not tonight," I winked.

Any light in her eyes dimmed a couple of notches. "You're trouble, aren't you, Xander?"

I knew what she wanted to hear. She wanted me to lie and say that she was safe with me. For the first time in years, I wanted the words to be true. The best thing I could do for her was to be honest.

"It sounds like we both have a bit of family drama," I began, dredging up my own sordid situation. "I'm at the head of the family business, but my father's primed to give the reins to my sister." I relaxed in my seat, mentally sinking onto the psychiatrist's couch, ready to spill all the skeleton's in my closet. What was it about her that made me feel safe? Like she cared? Was it the way she listened so intently? Or the quiet solidarity in her eyes, a kindred look of someone used to being disappointed by their family?

I decided to dial it back and give her what she needed to know. "My dad is sick and decided to add something special for me in his will. If I don't get and keep a girlfriend for a month, I'm ousted."

Our drinks arrived just in time. The bartender asked about a tab but I just handed her a couple of twenties, telling her to keep the change.

Penny took a long gulp of hers before she placed her hand over mine. "I'm sorry about your dad."

She meant it, squeezing my fingers tight and sending warm pangs through my chest. I cleared my throat as I used the other hand to white knuckle my drink. "He's lived a full life."

"Sounds like he wants to make sure you live a certain life, whether you want to or not," she mused, staring into her drink.

Her words meant more to me than I let on. "I'm used to making sacrifices and hard decisions," I said gruffly. When she gave me a sidelong glance, I lightened my voice and added a nonchalant shrug. "Occupational hazard."

"Yeah," she said slowly, peering at me with a studied patience that reminded me of a teacher having the umpteenth conversation with a difficult student. "But this is more than just a job." She used her straw as a pointer, making a large rectangle in the air. "I'm guessing you work in one of the skyscrapers downtown and you've been proving yourself since you got your MBA. You dress well and throw money around like confetti because you want people to know that you're successful. The one man that you want to notice hasn't though. In fact, he's kind of crapping all over your work by saying your contribution means so little that he'll take it away if you don't change your Facebook status." She paused, dropping her gaze as her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment. "Sorry, I get chatty and inappropriate when I'm nervous."

"No need to apologize," I murmured, trying to downplay just how awed I was that she hit the nail on the head. "Sounds like you know something about not being noticed."

"I'm a special ed teacher and I've fought to make real changes in my district for my kids," she explained. "I'm even taking the show on the road to be a thorn in the side of several districts in the state when I get back from vacation. My parents don't even ask about my job because my first mistake was not going into law or medicine. The only question they care about is if I'm dating someone and if so, does he do something respectable?" She angrily chugged the rest of her drink. She pushed the empty glass away and tugged her hair over one shoulder, ringing the brown strands.

"You know, I do something respectable for a living."

She stopped twisting. "What?"

"I need a girlfriend, and you need a boyfriend. Temporarily," I added quickly. I was usually on point when it came to selling ideas. I could make even the most unappealing concept, like I'm going to fix your company and lay off thousands, sound like roses because the profits or vision I had for the company trumped the collateral damage. My words stumbled with Penny. It didn't help that she was gaping at me like I'd just asked her to hike up her skirt and mount me.

"You want to pretend we're dating? So you go to my sister's wedding, and I pretend I'm your girlfriend for your dad and you stay CEO?"

"That's right." There was another piece. It could be my ace in the hole--or bring this whole conversation to a screeching halt because she slapped me across the face. "I'll pay you."

The words were already out and if her eyebrows jumped any higher they'd fly off her face. Just like that, I'd blown it. She was about to flip me off and get the hell out of dodge.

"How much?"

The anxiety immediately transformed into relief and I almost kissed her until I saw that whatever warmth she'd been feeling was hiding behind something brassy. I could see the barbed wire going up before my eyes.

I didn't let on, casually sipping my drink. "Twenty thousand for one month."

"Twenty thousand dollars?" she gasped.

"That's right," I nodded. "We're dating, so I go to your event, you go to some family stuff with me over the next month, and the money's yours."

Her mouth couldn't decide whether she was in shock or ecstatic, battling between an O of disbelief and an uneasy smile. She abandoned both when I slid closer, leaning in to tell her how much I appreciated this. How I was actually dreading this process, but with her...I was excited.

She pulled away, zipping her jacket to the very top. "Just so we're clear, I'm not an escort."

"Of course-"

"I'll do this, pretend that we're dating for the money on one condition." Her eyes froze solid. "We don't sleep together."

The kiss, all the things I wanted to do to her--it all dangled on some tenuous string. "This isn't about sex, Penny. I mean, obviously I want you-"

"And I want you." It should have been a tender moment, but she delivered the words with a hint of despair. "Which is why the only way this works and is less complicated is if we keep it strictly professional."

My head knew she was right. My cock protested vehemently. My heart? It didn't get a vote.

I felt a knot in my throat, but I held fast to all the years I'd put in at Wade Enterprises. I would not shift the company to my sister's inept hands. This was too important. And Penny was perfect: beautiful, real, hell, she was even a teacher, and you couldn't fake the chemistry we had.

Chemistry that will never be more than that. Heated looks, kisses that go nowhere...

I held out my hand, ignoring the part of me that ached for what could of been. It was the selfish part that wished I'd waited to ask her after I'd had her, hoping that would cure me of the sparks that lit up my insides when she smiled.

"You've got a deal."
Chapter Five: Penny

I couldn't hide in the bathroom forever.

It wasn't for a lack of comfort. The ladies' room at The Farmhouse Restaurant was nicer than my studio apartment back in Hayward. Granite countertops stretched around the smudge free vanity. A TV perched on the wall broadcast some Lifetime movie. I'd been in the bathroom long enough to get the gist, and even a psycho husband plotting his wife's demise in a spectacularly implausible fashion was preferable to grinning and bearing it through the bridal luncheon from hell.

Lara had been stuck to me like glue since I walked through the door, telling everyone about Mr. tall, dark, and handsome, thankfully leaving out the part about the sex club (though I believed she left that out because she'd have to admit she was there too).

I was still catching my breath after last night. Every question jerked me back to those moments.

Who is he? Xander Wade. Six foot, two inches of lean, powerful muscle. Sun kissed skin. A face that was just unfairly gorgeous. Angular features that were balanced out by the softest green eyes I'd ever seen. He had full lips that felt like heaven and hell pressed against mine. Heaven because he kissed me like he could kiss me a million times and still crave my taste...hell because we had only kissed a couple of times and already I was craving his taste. Craving the feel of all those muscles against my body...

Luckily, when the blush set in, they took it as embarrassment instead of arousal and moved on to question 2.

How did you two meet? Gulp. That was easy enough--we met at The Red Door Club, just when I'd gathered the guts to leave. I saw him standing in the door and my vagina thought, maybe I'll stick around for a few minutes. But the words that fell from my mouth had very little to do with the truth.

Xander had a plan. As soon as we shook hands, he whipped out his phone and we mapped out the story of us. Who knew there was an app for creating a fake relationship?

We met two weeks ago in a fender bender. While I was looking for my information, he noticed that I was a fan of Hozier and we realized we'd both happened to catch him at the Masonic back in April. We grabbed a coffee and the rest was history.

Question three had everyone on the edge of their seats. What does he do for a living? My mother was practically clutching her rosary beads, praying something along the lines of, Please say pediatrician. Heck, I'll even take a veterinarian. It was clear that everyone was waiting for some catch and expected me to be as vague as possible. I told them that he was CEO of Wade Enterprises and worked in the financial district. My mother's exaggerated sigh of relief wasn't remotely amusing because I knew what her next comment would be.

"Finally someone respectable with his own means!"

Means enough to pay me twenty thousand dollars to be his girlfriend.

It was a perfect segue into me needing to go to the bathroom.

I sunk into the oversized armchair, fighting the urge to check the time. I didn't really want to know what time it was. No matter how long I'd been in here, I doubted anyone would notice until closing time. I was really checking to see if Xander had texted me--and just like the countless times I'd gone to my messages in vain, I knew the answer was no.

He's a fake boyfriend, dummy.

I could barely get my very real ex boyfriend to text me. I was always the one that reached out, the one who sent 'I miss you' and song lyrics. But something felt different with Xander.

I wasn't completely naive, I could feel the desire radiating from him like some hypnotic cologne. Pulling me in, making me count all the ways our bodies could fit together. The sexual tension between us was palpable yet when he looked at me, he didn't ogle my breasts. He didn't leer--he took his time as those emerald eyes stroked their way up and down my body. When he really looked at me, looked into my eyes, it wasn't lust that I saw. I saw genuine interest. Like he wanted to get to know me, inside out.

I crossed my ankles, looking at my phone sitting on the teakwood tabletop. Appetizers hadn't even been served, so the fun was just beginning. I wanted to text my best friend Thalia, but considering she got to see her family that lived back east once a year, I figured the last thing she wanted was to listen to me whine about wanting to escape mine.

There was someone that got it, that understood what it was like to feel a rift so great that it seemed impossible to bridge. Someone that got my angst about my family. But I didn't know the rules of our arrangement--and there was a part of me that felt like I was already swimming in unchartered waters, and I wasn't a good swimmer. In fact, I kind of excelled at drowning.

"...so that's when I told the idiot sales girl not to even bother if the shoes didn't have red bottoms." Lara's signature lilt was an alarm bell going off, five seconds too late to avoid tragedy. There was no time to dash into a stall or fly to the window for a quick escape. The annoying guffaw that followed the tail end of her story of pretending that she was a queen and everyone else was at her beck and call had to be Janice. She was a bottle blonde, but she made up for it with a permanent ditzy grin that seemed glued to her face and a little chihuahua that she carried in her purse and called her 'baby'. Her little bundle of growling joy would have been attached to her hip now if my sister hadn't insisted on Janice finding a pet sitter for all wedding related functions.

I swiped my phone and dumped it back inside my purse, hopping to my feet as I paused, hoping they were headed into the stalls to take care of business, but the chatter hung at the vanity.

Makeup touch up. Just my luck.

There was a floor length mirror perched on the wall beside me and I caught my reflection. I wore my usual school day uniform, an ordinary white blouse and black pants that skimmed down my legs, stopping at the ankle. They were the kind of pants that popped with stilettos, but I felt most comfortable in flats. My black, slightly scuffed flats with one of the bows hanging on by a few stitches and prayer were the closest thing I had to a security blanket. I'd pulled my brown strands into a side plait that surprisingly looked messy in a fashionable way.

"Sticks and stones," I murmured as I got it over with, walking toward them with my eye on the exit.

Lara sprung in my path, lips splitting into a grin. Her nostrils flared like she got a whiff of a fresh opportunity to put me back in my place.

"We were wondering where you ran off to." Her voice didn't match her smile. Her tone told me she wouldn't shed a tear if I fell off the face of the earth. I saw Janice out the corner of my eye, sliding along the seam of the counter, crossing her arms with a truncated giggle, when she stopped beside us.

"Yeah, we came in here to find you actually," she grinned. " To make sure everything came out okay."

I couldn't suppress my scowl. "Really? A #2 joke?"

"Anyway," Lara fanned the air, diffusing some invisible odor. "Everyone's dying to know more about your mystery man. Personally, I find it very interesting that he popped up at The Red Door Club and now, you're allegedly dating?"

I found it interesting that Lara's husband was the lawyer but she felt like she had grounds to grill me like I was on the stand. "I'm gonna head back to the table."

She gave me a final, chilling glare, then stepped to the side to let me pass. I felt the fight flare in my cheeks and the familiar sting of tears. If it looked like a duck, quacked like a duck...did I really expect that all I had to do was regurgitate Xander's story, show them a couple of pictures we snapped, and they'd all grin and congratulate me?

I paused in the hall, the same blow to the gut returning to me, knocking all the air from my lungs. They were all thinking, what's the catch? If they ever found out about the money, I'd never hear the end of it. Being paid to be someone's girlfriend was way more pathetic than being single.

I was hiding again. Letting people that meant nothing determine my mood. I couldn't control the way they treated me, but I could control how I let it affect me.

I raised my chin and vaulted myself forward, back into the lion's den. My parents had rented out the entire restaurant, even though there was less than ten of us in attendance: the bridesmaids, my mother, and my sister's future mother in law. My sister's husband to be, a J-crew cut out who worked in Silicon Valley, was from New Orleans, so she picked The Farmhouse. They were known for their southern fare and down to earth motif, but the wedding planner had turned the space into something worthy of a Michelin star restaurant. From white linen tablecloths to servers in tuxedos, the only thing about The Farmhouse that they left unmutilated was the sign above the front door.

My sister and her gaggle of friends were sipping mimosas off to the side and I aimed for the table, my stomach grumbling hungrily.

"I'd steer clear of the fried shrimp, Penelope." My mother's voice was a whip that cracked, stopping my hand midair. Just to spite her, and because I was freaking starving, I picked one up with my fingers and chewed it long and hard. I knew the look that would be waiting for me, so I took my time turning to face her. She had doll-like features, all perfectly aligned from her round blue eyes to her button nose, to her full cheeks paired with striking cheekbones. The ensemble was completed with bee stung lips. All those dainty, plastic features melted with a righteous fury as her eyes narrowed and her red lips dipped into a frown. It wasn't enough that I ignored her; from the moment I reached until my fingers brushed the shrimp, I was disrespecting her.

Don't be fooled by the blush pink sheath dress and ivory cardigan, and the pearls around her neck. She was in army fatigues as she marched toward me. She hooked my arm, a flash of pain echoing from the point of contact and rushing up my bicep like wildfire. "Penelope Denise Robertson." Her voice was at a lowered volume, even though she'd taken me for my court martial far from prying eyes. She'd pulled me down the hall that led to the kitchen, out of sight to minimize her degree of embarrassment. There was an insane and bitter part of me that smiled inwardly at the thought of coming clean about Xander and the money and picturing her friend's reactions. The looks of horror would ripple down the line, and my mother's social capital would dip a couple of points. For her, that was a fate worse than death.

I wrenched my arm free, managing to keep my voice level despite the frustration screeching in my head. "I get that food is just a prop for you, but I'm hungry. And I'm going to eat, whether you guilt me about carbs or gym memberships or whatever you have saved up."

It was a miracle that I hadn't spent my teens and early adult years battling an eating disorder. I knew that her obsession with thinness said more about her than it did about me. Thinness was the one thing my genes gifted me that I had to do very little to maintain. It was her obsession with perfection that scarred me. A life filled with teaching me there was only one path to happiness: finding a wealthy man, and marrying him. If I toed the line, I'd be just fine. I'd be worthy.

The minute I strayed from that path and chose a career with no glitz and glamour, I was shooting myself in the foot. I didn't choose teaching with an eye on my future mate. I chose teaching because I wanted to help kids. In my mother's eyes, that made me an idiot.

"We were doing so well." She clucked her tongue disapprovingly, eyes crestfallen. "You're finally dating a nice boy-"

"Marshall is a nice boy," I fired back, not sure why I was defending an ex that turned out to be quite awful in the end.

"Marshall Kellerman is a car salesman." She crinkled her nose with disgust. The only reason his occupation was relevant to her was because she ascribed worth to status. Scott made a good living, but he didn't come from the Ivy League, manicured lawns and mansions that came prepackaged with status.

The only good thing I could say about Marshall was that he worked hard to build his business, Kellerman Autos. Locations were scattered throughout the East Bay. Hard work meant very little to my mother. Last names and good social breeding did.

My mother tucked her pale blonde hair behind her ears, her sign of a subject change. "I've been learning all there is to know about Xander Wade and let me just say that I'm so happy for you, Penelope."

"Can't wait for you to meet him!" I planted a smile on my face as I maneuvered past her, headed back toward the food. I gestured at the waiter who was standing near the pitcher of orange juice and the good stuff. Victoria finally noticed that there were other people in the room, flashing me one of the smiles she usually reserved for banquets held in her honor. She followed the road our parents dictated, and worked as a pediatrician for Stanford. The catch? I knew that in truth, she couldn't stand children.

"Come over here Penny! We were just talking about you."

I kept my smile on and the apprehension at bay. My sister was wearing a similar getup as me, an ivory blouse with black slacks, but she looked anything but ordinary. She shone as brightly as the oversized rock on her finger.

Since she was being nice to me, her circle of friends were suddenly my best buds, pulling out a chair and smiling warmly as I sat down. They leaned in like they were waiting for me to tell them a secret.

My sister spoke first, her voice hushed and reverent. "Xander is freaking gorgeous."

A flash of pride cut through me as I sipped my mimosa warily. "Thank you?" It was a question, because with them, it was always best to ask before you made any assumptions.

"It's absolutely a compliment." She leaned over and awkwardly patted my arm before she retracted her touch. She beamed like she'd just done a public service by showing me kindness. "We were all just wondering--why was he at the club?"

Almost as if some director had called action, Lara stepped into view. Red dress, black shoes, and a glittering, devious smile. Satan had arrived.

"Strange, huh?" Lara piped. "The last place on earth that you'd expect to find someone that sexy. Let's face it, Xander Wade has no problems getting laid."

When laughter flitted across the group, my cheeks flared indignantly. "I'm not going to talk about my sex life." Or lack of one. Or the fact that technically, we're not really dating.

"Oh, you're finally interesting, Penny," Victoria scoffed dismissively. "You've gotta give us something."

"Yeah, Penny," Lara egged her on, her tone a singsong nightmare that made me want to crawl out of my skin. "Why else would he be with you? You must be amazing in bed."

"Fuck you."

The two words were a whisper in my head, words I often fantasized about saying to her. But from the way the room went quiet, all eyes turning to me, I knew I'd done more than just thought it this time.

My throat ached and my hands were balled into fists.

I'd yelled it.

I blinked, emotion taking over as I looked into Lara's face, smug and victorious. I didn't waste anytime casting glances in my sister or mother's direction. I knew I'd find horror and anger burning as brightly as the embarrassment that turned my face red.

I stormed out the front door, chest heaving as I fought dueling urges to vomit or sob.

I forgot my jacket in the restaurant and I was far from one of those hardcore San Francisco natives that could rock short sleeves while the wind chilled to the bone. Going back in there was just not an option.

I started walking, no destination in mind. I could BART back to Hayward, slinking back to my apartment and avoid all wedding festivities until Saturday. If I did that, I couldn't say that I was different anymore; that I wouldn't let them put me back in the bathroom stalls of Presidio Heights High, eating my lunch on the toilet because I was afraid.

I couldn't, wouldn't run.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for my phone, scrolling down my contact list until I reached 'X'. A text was safe, but I wasn't in the mood to wonder if he got it. Even if I got his voicemail, just getting this toxic crap out of my system would help me regroup before I headed back to the hotel.

It only rang once.

"Hi gorgeous."

My face crumbled. "The lunch was awful and all I ate was a shrimp and all my mom cares about is the fact that you're a CEO, and Lara is going to dig and dig until she figures out that this isn't real-"

"Can you come to my office? I'll text you the address."

My phone hummed against my cheek and I glanced at the screen, the address for Wade Enterprises flashing and disappearing, kind of like the pain that flooded my body. All he did was answer and text me and already, I felt like I could breathe again. I felt like it would be okay.

"And just so we're clear, I know this...arrangement is complicated and we're still getting to know each other, but there's one thing I know for certain. The connection I felt when I saw your number light up my screen-" He paused, and I wondered what he was going to say before his pride or fears pulled him back from the edge. "It's real, Penny."

"I'll map it and see you in a few," I blurted, keeping the warm and fuzzies at bay. I ended the call and stuffed my phone back in my purse, leaning up against the side of the building.

I thought no sex would make this less complicated, but there was something happening here that was even more dangerous.

I was falling for him.
Chapter Six: Xander

My assistant looked at me like I'd lost my mind. It was a rare occurrence, when her tight, all business features went slack and I'd see beyond the assistant who ran a tight ship and kept my staff on their toes--and the fierce woman who kept me on mine.

"You want me to clear your schedule for the rest of the day?"

I dropped my cell on top of a stack of paperwork I needed to get through and raised my eye to her. "That's right. I can double up tomorrow-"

"Oh, I have no doubt that you can handle the work, Xander. It's the why that concerns me."

She was the only one on my staff who addressed me by my first name...and she was the only one that called me on my BS when the scale tipped from 'driven' to 'tyrant'. She was an invaluable part of my team, a job position that I'd filled with leggy recent college graduates until I started mixing business with pleasure and writing checks to keep the peace when I had to let them go because of incompetence. A good lawyer could have argued abuse of power and at worst, sexual harassment. I got tired of non disclosure agreements and tense conversations with the legal department, so I decided to look outside the box. Mrs. Caitlyn Bridges took absolutely zero shit from anyone. The day of her interview she walked in, looked me square in the eye and told me that I might as well send the other applicants home, because I was going to offer her the job.

At 5'2, fifty one years old, and a petite frame that she hid behind boxy pant suits, horn rimmed glasses and a glare that would make most men shy from her gaze, I was instantly intrigued by her confidence. She'd gotten a hold of my daily agenda and had meticulously gotten me from A to B with my sanity intact while allowing me to connect with my team, a vital piece that had been lacking.

Five years and counting and she was more than just the executive assistant to the CEO. She was like a second mother to me. A confidante. I hadn't yet confided in her about Penny, though. I'd chalked it up to a busy morning, though I'd canceled all the meetings for the girlfriend interviews. That had earned me a raised brow from Caitlyn, but she didn't push. It wasn't her style to play detective, but she had no qualms about speaking up if she had concerns.

Her heels tapped on the floor as she walked to my desk. She pulled her blazer down efficiently and crossed her arms in front of her. "Just to recap, you asked me to cancel the round of prospective partners I'd found to fit your father's decree." She spat out the word. There was no love lost between my father and Caitlyn. They'd only met once at a benefit dinner a couple of years ago.

My father had long been a figurehead of sorts at Wade Enterprises, but even figureheads need to make an appearance from time to time. When he walked to the microphone, cane clicking in time with his shoes, and essentially took credit for the company's gains, she'd refused to shake his hand when he walked off the stage to raucous applause. When he'd asked me to fire her and I refused, he'd railed on about it for weeks before my mother finally interceded and stroked his ego. Caitlyn just continued to do her job, stating that her work would speak louder than any amount of ass kissing.

She stood looking at me with a mixture of worry and skepticism and repeated herself. "You're not looking for a girlfriend anymore."

I dipped my head in acknowledgment. "That's correct. I've made other arrangements." I cringed, hating how business-like that sounded. Penny wasn't an arrangement. This thing we were doing was business, but she was something more...and the slight smile on Caitlyn's face told me that she knew that. "She's actually the reason I'm clearing out my day." I adjusted my tie, trying to pretend that this conversation was no different from any other. "Her name is Penny. She's a teacher. And she's..." I left the rest unfinished, but my mind filled in the blanks. Beautiful--I took a mental picture of her last night with the wind whipping her locks across her face. The way I fell into her eyes and it felt so effortless being with her. Sexy--in the most primal, breathless way. Our bodies called to each other. And I wasn't too proud to admit that no sex rule or not, I was looking forward to finding out just how firm that rule was. Kind--I'd avoided all family functions I had no interest in since I hit eighteen. My mother still tugged at my heart strings and while I hated the way she put my father first at her own detriment, I made sure my schedule was bare bones on her birthday. My sister and my father fell to the wayside. I had no interest in pretending or opening myself up for disappointment. Yet that's what Penny did. She put herself and her needs second, sacrificing her happiness to appease her sister and parents. There was a kindness that radiated from her. A gentleness that they took for granted.

"She's headed to the office," I finished. "I want to make her feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible."

"Say no more," Caitlyn had her marching orders and sprung into action. "I'll take care of the meetings and get some refreshments sent up to...?"

"My office," I answered, a little more eagerly than I intended.

"Of course," she answered smoothly, headed toward the exit. "Just buzz me if you need anything else."

I thanked her and waited until the door clicked closed before I swiveled to the floor to ceiling window, the San Francisco skyline humming with life and energy and promise. The excitement that stirred inside me was something I usually saved for new acquisitions or profit statements with more zeroes tacked on the end than expected. This was different.

I couldn't sit still. I wanted to do a lap around the room. Should I get flowers? She'd had a hard day.

Just as long as you remember that this is temporary. Friendship is fine, caring for her is safe, and sleeping with her has become your only fantasy. But once you turn down the other road, with roses and promises and butterflies in your gut, there's no going back.

Business mode was the only thing that could pull me back. I rose to my feet, my environment making the transition a smooth one. Corner office on the 26th floor, walls filled with framed articles about the companies I saved and turned into powerhouses when everyone else was ready to liquidate. No family photos, no knick knacks that reminded me of home and comfort. This office was a monument to hard work and tenacity. I could have easily had the conference room set up for us, but I wanted her to see me in my element. A capable, powerful man that took care of the things that he was passionate about. And she was on that list, and deserved to be taken care of.

The culinary staff downstairs brought up a spread fit for royalty, a board filled with all kinds of exotic cheeses and fresh fruit and hearty meat. Wine and water rounded out the table, two porcelain plates and wine glasses waiting to be used.

I spent my minutes looking through my paperwork and forcing myself to not check the phone. She'd been in a rush to get off after all, I doubted she'd be texting to shoot the shit, and these moments gave me the opportunity to temper my enthusiasm. I couldn't stop smiling, achingly excited for a chance to see her again--but I reminded myself she was coming because she was in crisis and hurting.

What was it about this woman that spoke to me so profoundly? I wanted to do more than just heal her past hurts, I wanted to help her see how beautiful she was. How my world was brighter with her in it.

Two knocks sounded at the door, a familiar tap followed by Caitlyn's voice it creaked open and she walked in.

"I have a Miss Penny Robertson to see you, Mr. Wade."

She stepped aside and my heart thundered in my chest. Penny's eyes hesitantly met mine, the hazel globes slightly swollen from crying. She did this awkward bow thing and from the full on smile that spread across Caitlyn's face, I knew she was charmed.

"I'll be in my office if you need anything." Caitlyn hustled from the room, and I had to order my limbs to take it easy and not sprint to Penny, scooping her in my arms.

Penny smoothed the front of her pants with a nervous chuckle and my head dashed through the gutter, wondering what lie beneath before I shushed the lust and tried to relax the nerves that had her shrinking before my very eyes.

I rounded my desk, wanting to be close to her, but decided to give her space and let her gain her footing first. I perched on the edge of my desk, gesturing at the food. "I remember you saying something about only having one shrimp?"

"Oh god," she winced, covering her face with her hands. "It was a complete nightmare and it's just beginning. They're going to eat us alive at the wedding. They're going to poke a hole into every story and picture. And then I'm not just going to be pathetic. I'm going to be a money hungry liar on top of it."

I felt the frayed rope that she'd been clutching, the control that was slipping through her fingers. "It's going to be okay-"

"Oh, it's gonna be a lot of things. Painful. Embarrassing. And if you're serious about the twenty thousand, very expensive. Okay's not really on the docket." She turned to the table and plucked a handful of grapes, stuffing them in her mouth. She chewed them slowly, fingering the white linen tablecloth. When she finished, she leveled with me. "Sorry, I kind of do this non stop bullet, word vomit thing when I'm nervous."

A quiet smile teased my lips. "You're nervous?"

"I think you know the effect you have on women, Xander."

"I don't care about the effect I have on women, Penny. I care about the effect I have on you."

Her lips were parted and I've never wanted to kiss someone so badly. Not ravage her, that would come later. I wanted to feel her lips against my lips. I wanted to taste her with my tongue. I wanted to feel her open for me like a flower reaching toward the sun.

She snapped her mouth shut, turning away from me like she'd just been caught doing something she shouldn't have. We were both caught it seemed. Me, the guy who frequented sex clubs and bars to get his rocks off; her, the kind of woman that avoided those kinds of places. Two people who made an arrangement, shook on it, put a price tag on it, yet were rewriting the terms every second we were together.

She sniffed and edged her way around me, being careful to stay out of arms reach. She went to the window. The sun turned her hair caramel.

"This is insane, you know."

"Insane?" I dismissed that, shaking my head slowly. I waited until she dropped her hands and let me see her. Really see her, past the beauty and the mask of indifference; the bun she'd pulled to the top of her head and the disarming smile. "I know this thing we're doing together is-"

"Awkward?" she offered.

"To say the least. But I don't think you're insane. I think you're brave...and way too nice."

She walked right past the compliment, her gold fleck eyes catching fire. "Too nice?"

Usually my words never failed me, but with her, things weren't coming out right. "I didn't mean it as an insult. It's an observation."

"And you must see a lot way up here on the 26th floor," she said vehemently. Sadness was no longer rippling through her gaze. She looked ready to tear me to pieces. "We haven't even known each other for twenty four hours and you think you've got me all figured out?"

Anger rose inside me, ready to match hers, but I gripped the edge of my desk, glancing at the folders stacked around me. "This I have figured out. How to strategize and make money. Money I'm good at. Earning it, spending it." I gritted my teeth. And giving it away. I thought I was being generous, but maybe I insulted her? "Is this about the money?"

"No," she said tersely. She angrily swatted a renegade brown strand from her eyes. "I mean, maybe? But I..." She didn't finish.

I had a feeling she was going to say she needed it. I didn't feel I had the right to ask why and the why was irrelevant. But I knew the money was a symbol; control, an invisible line in the sand. It protected us both.

I decided to throw up the white flag, pushing off the desk and moving toward her. Her eyes narrowed warily, but when I roped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward me, she arched into me, her swan like neck craning as she tilted her chin upward. It had been years since I'd done the relationship thing, but I remembered that it was easier to surrender and say the dreaded two words than go for blood.

"I'm sorry." I said it with my voice then repeated it with my lips. She brushed hers against mine, a smile brightening her face.

"Me too. I'm not mad at you. Hell, I owe you a thank you for squeezing in a sit down with your fake girlfriend."

She said it as a joke but I saw past the wink and nudge with her shoulder. 'Fake' and 'not real' were words she'd uttered before. And for all intents and purposes, she was right. Whatever this was that we were doing, it had edges and textures that I was still figuring out myself. I went back to the money, because that's where I felt safe. That's where I felt comfortable. But with her in my arms, I couldn't feel my feet touch the floor. How was it possible that I wasn't counting down the days until the weekend, when I could get off and get back to business? The only thing I cared about was making Penny smile.

I was losing my mind. My head told me to run, as far and as fast as I could. There was only one way this could end, and it was disastrously.

I ignored it, a crazy idea taking root. "Have you ever been on a helicopter?"

"What?" Her face twisted in confusion. "I mean, um, no?" She bit her bottom lip to hide her smile but it just made her shine brighter as she took a cautious step forward. "Why do you ask?"

I reached for my phone, punching Caitlyn's number. "Because we're going on a field trip."
Chapter Seven: Penny

Do not sleep with Xander Wade.

I'd been repeating that sentence in my head from the minute he held out his hand and led me to the elevators that shot us to the roof. He never let my hand go, even squeezing it as we shared a view of Golden Gate Bridge that I'd only seen in movies. It was almost as alluring as the sight of our hands locked together so effortlessly that I almost believed it was real. The nearness of him mixed with the adrenaline of being thousands of feet above the rest of the world and it made me want to be reckless. Something like...ease our hands up my thigh and decide that maybe I'd behaved too rashly when I'd made the proclamation that if we were doing this, it would be a business arrangement, with no sex.

But I wanted him.

I needed him.

And it was driving me utterly insane.

It didn't help that he kept stroking my skin-slow, tender circles that made me want to kiss him. Despite the rumbling of the jets and my ongoing battle to keep my legs closed, every jolt that rocked through me made me wish I'd worn a skirt.

When I saw the familiar hills of the Tri-Valley, I panicked for a moment, thinking that in his over the top manner, he was taking me back to my apartment, but the copter set down in Livermore. When a woman dressed in all black with dollar signs glittering in her eyes rushed over, welcoming us to Brentwood Winery, I had to repeat the words again.

Do not sleep with Xander Wade.

Do...

Ugh.

This was like some fantastic, surreal dream and people do really dumb things in their dreams. Helicopter rides to wineries, his hand caressing mine the entire journey with no intention of letting up--I could see me wavering. I felt it every time I pretended I didn't notice him watching me. I had no idea what he saw, or why he was going to all this trouble when he was already paying me, but I didn't have the guts to ask. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to risk doing anything that would wake me from this dream.

"You okay?"

His voice shook me from my stupor and I looked down, my heart lurching when I saw our fingers were still interlaced.

I snatched my hand away, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants. "I, um, sorry." I expected him to do the same. Nerves had me sweating like I was standing in front of my class for the first time, wondering how I could instill confidence and self worth in my students when I was still working on that myself. He didn't make a face and follow suit, instead, holding out a hand as he angled toward the entrance of the restaurant.

I hadn't hesitated when he reached for me before, willingly letting him pull me even deeper into dangerous territory, a place where reality and fantasy bled into each other.

"Let me get my bearings," I said with a forced huff of annoyance, turning my back to him. I squeezed my eyes shut and sucked air into my lungs and blew it out before I opened them and made use of the moment to catch my breath.

Our bubbly guide cleared her throat and I frowned, but my smile was back in place when I turned. The winery was beautiful, from the wood beams to the rustic barrels and string lights that lined the way toward a set of French doors.

I glanced down at my wrist, surprised that the place wasn't bustling with energy for the early dinner crowd, people scrambling for wine and food after a long day at the office. "Are we early?"

She paused, pirouetting back to face me. Her name, Margery, was etched in cursive on a bronze name tag. "Early?"

"The place just seems-" Just in case it was a sore subject, I chose my words carefully. "A little slow."

Her crystal eyes flicked over to Xander, then back to me. "Mr. Wade booked the entire property for the rest of the evening."

My stomach dropped. "He did what?!"

Xander turned his charm on Margery. "I think we've got it from here. Everything's set up for us on the patio?"

"Yes sir," Margery chirped. "And if you need anything else-"

"Absolutely." He dismissed her with a grin and tried to turn it on me, but I crossed my arms.

I waited until she was out of earshot. "You reserved a winery for us?"

His smile wavered. "Yes. Is it too much?"

I glanced around us, all the candles burning suddenly making me sweat in a significantly unsexy way. I didn't need a mirror to know that the little makeup I'd thrown on this morning had melted off my face, my braid hung limp, the whole right side of my hair giving up altogether, and just spilling down my back. My white blouse was wrinkled, the cotton stuck to my sticky skin. The only thing that looked appropriate for this expensive last minute date were my pants.

Going to his office was already like some alien world, being here just reminded me of how we lived in different worlds.

"Yes," I said finally, unbraiding the rest of my hair. I twisted it into a bun, wrapping a hair tie around the mess. "It's too much." When his jaw tightened, I was the one that reached for his hand, wanting to explain myself. "Don't get me wrong, it's pretty much the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me." My words got stuck in my throat. I told him I was overwhelmed, that I wanted to escape, and he hadn't batted an eye before he scooped me up on his white horse and saved the day. "You're pretty much the best f-"

His finger pressed against my lips. Who knew that being shushed could be so hot? Every part of my body snapped to life, my eyes lost in his as he inched closer to me, his finger teasing downward until it rested on my bottom lip.

"I have some new rules to add to the list. No more fake boyfriend/girlfriend talk. Or how this isn't real." He brought his other hand to my face, holding me steady with his touch and his gaze. "You're mine, and I'm yours."

I drew my hands up, resting my palms against his chest. If I was smart, I'd push him backwards and tell him to take me back to the city. Instead, I gripped the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. I locked my arms around his waist, my face nuzzled against him. I uttered a word of surrender. "Okay."

I didn't let myself think about what I'd lose when the month was up or how I would reconcile taking a check from him when this arrangement ended. I just let him hold me. I savored the care I felt when he reared back slightly and tucked my hair behind my ears and sealed my fate with a kiss.

He guided me toward the French doors, a table a few inches from the ground topped with wine, glasses, and an assortment of fruit and cheeses that looked similar to the spread we'd left untouched back in his office. The patio looked out on the property, rows of oak trees stretching out before us, nestled among the golden hills.

I whipped back to face him, ready to admit that this was fantastic and I was grateful--and I saw the same look I'd seen when we first met. His eyes were ravenous, downright sinful...and my body responded in kind. The warmth begun between my thighs and radiated outward. This wasn't just the sun on my back, a flicker of lust. I was on fire for him, all the reservations, and rule number one was called into question.

"No sex." It came out hoarsely. There was no bite in the words, because my eyes focused on his mouth and I longed for a different kind of bite--his teeth, wrapped around the nipples that strained against my bra.

He advanced, his gaze nailing me to the ground. I saw the untamed lust in his gaze and I decided that I wouldn't run. I wanted him to eat me alive. Or at least eat...certain parts of me.

Heat stormed my cheeks, the thoughts running rampant in my head unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. I was used to losing myself in the moment, but I wanted to feel everything with Xander. I wanted to savor every second.

Faint music purred from the dining room and-

Dining room.

I blinked, the world coming back to focus. We were on the patio, in full view of God knows who, and I was two seconds away from tearing off my blouse.

He was still advancing, the look in his eyes making the heat in my cheeks intensify and the wetness between my thighs was rebelling against my sense of public decency.

He backed me up against the railing and I held out a hand to keep him at a distance. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to lay you down on that cushion, spread your legs apart, and bury my mouth inside you."

My mouth hung open in a mixture of shock and arousal. "You..but...the rule..."

His smile deepened mischievously. "I know you're used to being in charge and enforcing rules, but some rules are meant to be-" He reached out and gripped my belt, jerking it loose. "Tested."

My head spun as I tried to muster the energy to push him back, but I had none left. The desire that had been edging up on my sense of self preservation all day hushed everything but his touch. "Xander..."

He held steady, fingers wrapped around the button, eyes capturing mine. "Say it again."

I frowned, then gasped when he slipped the button through the hole. He was doing exactly what he said he would.

Taking off my pants and then he'd--

I melted into his embrace. I didn't care who saw, I didn't care about anything except his body and my body.

I'd never wanted anything as badly as I wanted him.

"Say my name again."

I drew a shuddering breath and his need, my need, filled my lungs. I licked my lips, trembling as I felt his eyes follow my tongue's path, then he leaned in and retraced my steps with his own.

"Xander."

I moaned his name with abandon and threw my arms around his neck, tugging at tuffs of his hair as he tore down my pants. My panties were next and I scrambled to discard them, the cotton thing flung to the side.

Screw the warmth of embarrassment of being watched. I felt the warmth of the sun on my butt--and I didn't even care because his fingers skated down to grip the round curve of my ass and he lifted me up like I didn't weigh a thing.

He caught his breath, his kiss swollen lips quivering as his eyes burned into mine. "Tell me you want this." There was a hesitation swirling in the emerald warmth of his gaze. He was giving me a chance to walk away. To stand my ground about the rule that once seemed like a life raft and now was just pulling me down. The rule was drowning the intensity of this moment.

Fuck the rule.

My hair spilled into my eyes and I whipped it back. I didn't want to hide. I wanted him to hear and see my desire.

"I want this." I kissed him hard, taking his bottom lip between my teeth and tugging until he groaned his approval. I let go and the words dripped like honey. "I want you."

He took us to the floor, the cushions catching our bodies. I expected his hands to drop to his fly, but his hands returned to me, fingertips stroking up my calves and rounding my knees. He tore open my thighs and a gasp stole away from my lips. There was an urgency that radiated from him that made me bloom. This muscled, delicious, holy crap sexy guy couldn't wait one more moment to have me. Me.

His fingertips brushed my inner thigh and goosebumps ran wild, dialing every pore in my body up to hyper sensitive. I'd never been touched the way Xander touched me. Like I was meant to be his. Like this was the realest thing he'd ever known.

I was propped on my elbows, watching him gaze at my body like it was nirvana, right within reach. I'd never been so close to climax without being touched. When he disappeared, only the crown of his head visible, the warmth of his breath on me turned me inside out. He was just breathing, gusts of air caressing my skin and I was already panting and thrusting my hips.

He moaned against my skin, lips dancing across the seam to my core. I fell backwards in ecstasy, everything but his mouth fading to black. His tongue roamed inside me, tasting my need. Suckling my desire.

When I came I shook like I was falling apart and somehow, some way, it wasn't terrifying. No one had touched me in months, but when I blinked through the haze of lust I realized I was wrong. No one had touched me the way he touched me...ever.
Chapter Eight: Xander

"No helicopter ride to meet your parents?" Her sweetheart mouth dipped with feigned disappointment. "That changes everything."

I swatted her ass playfully and the gasp, followed by the reddening of her cheeks as she tossed me a scolding glare, was almost enough to calm the apprehension that scrambled to my throat. The silence invaded the memories of an afternoon that morphed from business as usual to Penny--Penny's hand in mine, Penny's smile no longer hesitant, Penny letting go...letting me take us to the place we both longed to go.

And now we were headed to meet my parents.

That fact alone should have been enough to make me dig in my heels and catch a breath. This whiplash romance had my head spinning. But the sinking in the pit of my stomach had nothing to do with the gravity of introducing her to my parents. I was battening down the hatches because even though I still tasted her on my tongue, still heard her moans swirling in my ears, there was no escaping the fact that even though being with her felt as close to real that I'd been in a long time, the fact remained that I'd only met her because my father was forcing my hand. I was paying her a great sum of money to heed his wishes and it turned what should have been anxiety inducing for romantic reasons to anxiety inducing because this was an arrangement.

Just don't think about the end. Enjoy the ride. Enjoy her and this thing, whatever it is.

For all my talk about letting go, living in the moment, and enjoying what Penny and I had, I'd been fooling myself. I saw her pop the grapes in her mouth like a bitter pill she had to swallow, eyes swimming with emotion she refused to own up to and I made a choice. I wanted to make her smile, do something gallant, and a little absurd. I wanted to show her a life that I often took for granted; I had a helicopter, private jet, and a fleet of cars to take me anywhere in the world. When she glided to the window and looked out at the city with awe, like she was moments away from pinching herself and waking from this dream, I knew exactly where to take her. Brentwood Winery was my favorite in the area and I wanted their delicious wine to coat her tongue; I wanted her to see that beauty and escape were within reach. Most of all, I wanted her to see that I was willing to do anything just to make her smile.

That was my first mistake.

My second was jokingly suggesting we swing by and meet my parents.

And then she said yes--and I realized that this wasn't a joking matter at all.

I leaned back, trying to exude a confidence that usually came to me naturally. "It should be fairly uneventful. My father will be in his wing, under lock and key. The likelihood of him summoning us for a meeting is nil. My mother will treat you like a long, lost friend that's finally come home." I could picture the hug, my mother's thin arms wrapping around Penny like a python, squeezing the life out of her. "And my sister-" I stopped cold, my hackles immediately raising. Marie was a lot of things: vapid, ungrateful, indulgent, and a professional liability, but one thing she was not was overly nice. If my mother dialed up the congeniality meter to 10, Marie would dial it down to zero and skip right to treating Penny like she didn't exist at all. "Let's just hope my sister is out spending money she didn't earn."

"And I thought me and my sister had issues," Penny whistled.

I let her gaze pull me in and instead of shrugging it off, I owned up to my comment. "I have two years on my sister, but you'd think it was two decades." My head told me that this was all too much, that she couldn't possibly want to hear about my sibling drama, even if she could relate to feeling completely alienated from your own blood. My heart couldn't help but share. There was something disarming in the way she searched my face like she was ready to shine a light to pierce all my dark memories. "When I was growing up, my father told me about the importance of hard work. I received constant reminders of how he put blood, sweat, and more blood into Wade Enterprises. My sister got hugs and kisses and if at first you don't succeed, just bat your eyes and I'll fix it for you."

"I'm sorry, Xander," she said softly.

I let out a rumbling sigh as I shifted in my seat and aimed my ire out the window. I ignored the sympathy I felt coming from her. I felt like I was whining, and men didn't whine. "It is what it is."

"You don't have to do that with me. I know about not being seen by your family," she murmured. The melancholy in her voice was the same loneliness I refused to name. It was easier to shove it to the dark recesses of me, throw myself into my work, and avoid it altogether.

I tilted my head in her direction, expecting to see sadness. Ready to take it head on and let her know that I'd learned not to go there, but she didn't need my comfort. I saw the fight in her that had sparked back at the club. I saw determination.

"It would be easy to run from it all. I'm really good at running." The sweetheart line of her lips hardening to stone. "Every time I run away, like I did this afternoon, I just give that scared little girl power over me. And that's far more terrifying than anything they can throw at me."

I stared at her, past the beauty, the white hot sex appeal that first drew me to her...and I saw the woman beneath. The one that didn't need me to whisk her away to a winery because her family didn't appreciate her. She didn't need saving at all.

She dropped her chin to her chest, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm not saying that you're wrong to feel that way about your dad and sister-"

I brought my lips to hers, the kiss silencing her fears and soothing my own. I held onto her lips, only letting go when her hand dropped to my crotch.

"Penny Robertson, I'm beginning to think you only want me for my body," I smirked against her mouth. The kiss alone was enough to make me wish I had a partition to roll up so I could have my way with her. The feel of her fingers wrapping around my cock hardened me instantly and in that moment, there was only one place I wanted to be...and it was between her legs.

I swept my tongue over my bottom lip and I swore I could still taste her, so I drew it over my top one too. My lips curled with pleasure at the memory of her body. How warm she was. How she invited me to taste her. Lose myself in her.

I drew my hand up her thigh and the little gasp that fell from her mouth sealed the deal. Nothing else mattered. I wanted to sink my fingers inside her, watch the way she let go when my fingers explored and I discovered every octave of the moans that flowed from her trembling lips.

Driver be damned--I wanted to make her come.

And then the GPS ruined the moment.

"In 0.3 miles, make a right on Cedar Way."

It was barely above a whisper, as the driver kept the volume at an unobtrusive level, but it was equivalent to an alarm going off in my head. The house was on Cedar Way.

Danger! You're almost home!

I jerked away from Penny like I'd been electrocuted. Her body went as rigid as if she'd felt the current too, then her face fell.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

The answer was yes, but it wasn't because of anything she'd done. It was because of my fears. My worries. My time with her had been surreal and unexpected in the most amazing way. But I knew exactly what to expect with my family. Disappointment. Ambivalence. Ignorance. And for the first time, I wanted the opposite. I wanted them to morph into the loving family I refused to admit I wanted.

I wanted her to like them.

I wanted them to like her.

But how could any of that happen when I'd only met her because I was having one last night of debauchery, and the only reason we were together was because my father had ordered me to settle down, or else?

I couldn't look at her, because somehow, she could cut through the bullshit and see the guy I hid. No amount of money or charm could shield me from those hazel eyes.

And even though my body buzzed from our kiss, my cock still stiff and holding out hope, my heart...well, I refused to even acknowledge the crazy plans it had for me...

I glanced down at my Rolex like I suddenly remembered that we had a tight schedule to keep.

"This shouldn't take too long," I told her with a sly grin. "Then we can make things interesting. Trust me, I'm going to get my money's worth."

I froze. What the fuck did I just say to her?!

"Excuse me?" she gasped.

I wanted to take the words back, my head, my fears, taking the wheel and driving me straight to Dickheadville, USA. I hesitantly glanced at her and the look on her face made my heart seize up in my chest. Her forehead was a series of lines, her eyes slits of frustration, but I saw the water that threatened to dump onto her cheeks any minute. She was hurting...and this had nothing to do with her parents or her sister. This was all me.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but she wasn't done.

"Your 'money's worth?' I let you eat me out and now you get to talk to me like I'm just a piece of tail?" I knew she was pissed because she didn't even care that the driver could hear our conversation loud and clear. She was the kind of woman that blushed at all things sex related in public but behind closed doors was wild as hell.

She was the kind of woman that I didn't deserve.

"I didn't mean-" I hushed the rest of the pathetic defense I'd been ready to lobby. I could convince just about anyone of anything. To be successful in my field, you have to be able to read people and ascertain exactly what they want...so you can get them to do exactly what you want. She wanted me to tell her that what we had was special, even with all the evidence to the contrary, like my asshole comment. The unnerving part was that I wanted that too.

I had no idea how to fix this, so I opted for a subject change. "Home sweet home," I joked, peering out the window.

She didn't laugh. The only sound that followed my comment besides the awkward silence was the beep as the driver punched in the security code at the gate.

Whether it was daytime or beneath the cover of darkness, the Wade Estate always filled me with a paralyzing sense of dread. The property sat on top of a hill, the architect perfectly capturing how important it was for my father to look down at everyone, judging them with little mercy.

Oak trees stood like some wood and earth army, their spindly branches stretching and pointing at our car. The house itself scowled down at us, the gothic architecture more horror than the whimsical fantasy my mother usually described it as to other people.

The driver eased to a stop at the front entrance and promptly opened my door. When a chill cut through my jacket and shirt and seared my bones, I knew the meeting was going to go really well. I rounded the car to Penny's side, holding out my hand for her. I expected her to slap it out of the way, but she took it and didn't let go as we ascended the steps to the front door. On the helicopter, her hand fit mine like that was the way it was supposed to be, her fingers twitching with excitement. There was no tremble of excitement rippling through her fingers now. It was back to business as I fed her to the wolves.

I punched the doorbell and in ten seconds or less, the door was pulled open. Branson, our family butler whose smile was as biting as a frown, stood at attention.

He cut his eyes at me, his teeth gleaming cordially. "Mr. Wade! I don't believe madam is expecting you."

Even though I wasn't looking at her, I felt Penny's eyebrows shoot to her hairline. My mother was a stickler for all things prim and proper, forcing the staff to indulge her fantasy. It was like some BBC show gone terribly wrong.

"We were in the neighborhood," I lied.

Penny grunted under her breath, telling me she thought my reply was just as ridiculous as the 'madam'.

I held back my smile, squeezing her hands as I performed the introductions. "Branson, this is my girlfriend, Penny Robertson."

Branson shook her hand with more enthusiasm than I'd seen in the two plus decades that he'd been with my family. "Penny? After the-"

"Beatles song?" she finished. From the muscle that twitched near her temple, I had a feeling she got that all the time, but the warm smile she offered him when we stepped through the door never wavered. "Penny is short for Penelope. I wish I had an exciting story to share, but my mom just liked the name."

I smirked, like I should have, but my throat clenched. That was the kind of thing I'd know if we had done this-

No more 'right', remember?

I dropped the panic that clutched my gut, opening my mouth to ask if she needed a tour, but Branson beat me to the punch, practically putting his arm around her shoulders to steer her away from big, bad Xander.

"I would be honored to give you a tour while madam prepares for guests, Miss Robertson."

Of course she saw us coming. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a trigger that engaged whenever I was on the property, weighing the occupants and the sound going nuclear when a third, unapproved person was detected. It was dramatic, and over the top--which was right up my mother's alley.

"I'd love a tour! And please, call me Penny." Penny brought our hands to her lips and pressed a kiss on my skin before letting go. Slowly. Like she couldn't stand it.

I couldn't either.

She followed Branson down the front corridor, her gentle brown locks swishing around her waist in time with her hips. "The house is beautiful. How long have you worked for the Wades?"

He scrambled to the grand staircase, the stained glass skylight casting a rainbow colored halo around his bald head.

"Twenty five amazing years," he beamed with pride.

"And how many people work here?"

"Two full time maids, a chef and his assistant, a groundskeeper...and madam." He winked at me like we'd just shared some inside joke, but he didn't realize that I was thinking that my mother, as toxically sweet as she could be, never worked a day since she married my father. "Madam has a wing all to herself for her pursuits. She runs several charitable organizations."

My eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets.

"This place is our home and we take pride in it," Branson ignored me. "How many people get the chance to live in a castle?"

"Wow," Penny's voice was filled with fascination and I stood at her side, her excitement contagious. For a split second, I forgot that I'd lived in this house and knew every square inch; every antique nook and cranny.

Branson gestured around us. "This is my favorite area of the house." His tiny brown eyes followed his pointer finger to the ceiling. "Madam had a vision. She grew up in a Victorian, and wanted to incorporate her nostalgia in the design of her home."

As we all gazed up at the stained glass ceiling, I remembered the first and only time I'd seen my mother's childhood home. My father bought it for her as a anniversary gift and even though there were no inhabitants, the house was cleaned weekly, everything frozen in time. You'd think all that love and care meant there were beautiful memories within those walls, but she stayed in the car while dad gave Marie and I a quick tour.

Our current tour was on the move, Branson leading us through the countless sitting rooms on the first floor only. We said hello to Lauren, one of the maids that used to slip me Hershey's kisses when my mother wasn't looking, and were ushered into the elevator. As Branson gushed about how the elevator had custom hardwood flown in from abroad and the artist who crafted all the carvings and fixtures, I stole a look at Penny, expecting her expression to be one of utter boredom. Her whole face was lit up as she followed every word. She felt me watching her and when she met my gaze, hers darkened.

Message received--she was still pissed at me.

I took it in stride. My comment in the car was a dick move. It was my last ditch effort to regain control because when she was near, it was easy to forget how we met and why we were together. And thinking through all that just left me with a combination of guilt and resentment. Guilt because she deserved better than to be anyone's fake anything...and if I was a better man, a stronger man, I'd walk away for that reason alone. The resentment had everything to do with the man that was waiting for us when we stepped out of the elevator. Standing proudly in the foyer, his portrait glared down at us, I looked up at Robert Kirkman Wade. I knew there were similarities between the two of us. We had the same olive colored eyes that burned holes into anyone that dared to challenge us. His sharp nose was my nose, and the set of our jaws were identical. We both had dark hair to rival our pale green eyes, though his had a dash of white that made him look distinguished. These days the few strands left were white as snow. Even in the massive bed he resided in, his body a distant memory from the athletic one that boomed from the frame, he still had the ability to shrink anyone to nothing with one look. And just to prove how far his reach was, he could erase all the hard work I'd done for the company with a flick of his wrist.

Penny followed Branson to the library and I lingered at the picture, my head filling with all the things I didn't say to the old man. I wanted to flip him the bird. Tell him I wouldn't be manipulated. Tell him that I wouldn't play his game.

Penny's laugh cut through the cloud of anger and wrapped me in a warmth that melted the icy gaze of my father. If he wasn't such an asshole, I may have never met Penny.

I trailed into the library like I could see the notes of her laugh weaving through the air, pulling me toward her. I paused in the doorway, crossing my arms as I watched her spin as she took in the two level room. Books that no one read wrapped on pristine shelves that surrounded us.

Branson gushed about the extensive collection of first editions, and how my mother was working on a monthly story hour for local children. He left out the fact that my mother had been talking about setting that up for years.

Penny's rotation stopped on me and her smile wavered. I expected another glare, but this time, it was concern that rounded her features. Her lips parted and she mouthed, are you okay? She'd seen my father's portrait, not that you could miss it, and caught my reaction to it. Despite what I'd said, and how I hurt her, she was concerned about me.

I didn't deserve her, in a fake or real world.

Her hazel eyes shifted slightly just as Chanel no 5 stormed its way through my nostrils.

"Xander, darling!" My mother barely waited for me to turn around before she wrapped her arms around me. Stilettos vaulted her to my height and a diet of skinny lattes and Xanax made her a quarter of my size. I embraced her hesitantly and it just made her squeeze me tighter, like she wanted me to break her.

"It's so great to see you, darling!" She gushed, stepping back to look at me. She inspected my face with the care of a plastic surgeon, documenting every flaw. My inspection just left me with a hollowness in my gut. My father was the one who was dying, but she looked as languid as he did. Her skin was pulled to tightly over her bones, making her large blue eyes devour the rest of her face. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled into a ballerina bun. My mom was a beautiful woman, working as a model before she met my father. When they married, she put aside the runway for a house on the hill and life as a wife and mother. She never talked about those days, but when I was a kid, I snuck in her room and found a chest full of odds and ends from her career. Casting calls, laminated photos with her looking wan and glamorous, wrapped gifts from designers with handwritten notes that read how excited they were about her wearing their clothing--it filled me with such pride that she was my mother, and once upon a time, she did more than sleep until two pm. She'd caught me though, yelling at me for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks as she shoved me out of her room and slammed the door in my face. My nanny had taken me to the park and when we got back two hours later, she still hadn't emerged.

"Hi mom."

When she smiled it looked like it hurt. "We weren't expecting you today!" She glanced over my shoulder and her smile broadened. "And you brought a guest!"

She didn't wait for an introduction, maneuvering around me and wrapping Penny in the same smothering embrace. Penny went rigid with shock at first, then relaxed, her eyes softening when she met mine.

"I'm Mariah Wade." She released Penny and stood tall, like she was expecting applause. "But you can call me Mimi. Hopefully, some day you'll call me Mom."

"Jesus," I groaned, rushing forward before Penny made a break for it. "You don't even know her name."

She let out a schoolgirl giggle, complete with a wink. "Silly me. What's your name, dear?"

"Penny. It's a pleasure to meet you." Penny answered with a gentle smile.

My mother stepped back like Penny was a puppy that just reared up and started walking on two legs. "You have such lovely manners!" She nudged me with her elbow. "She's a keeper." She knew I was about to tell her to turn it down so she skated toward Branson, giving the man a set of air kisses and sending him off to get drinks for us all.

"We're actually not staying," I interrupted. Everyone in the room looked at me with disdain coloring their eyes. I ignored them all, holding out my hand to Penny. "We need to get back to the city."

My mother frowned. "But your father-"

"Please give him my love." As soon as I felt Penny's hand slip into mine, I pulled us back toward the elevator, then decided to take the stairs instead. She didn't say anything until we were back in the car, headed down the hill.

"Are you okay?"

The truth? No. I couldn't lie to her.

I adjusted my tie and set my eyes on my phone, all the work I'd dropped for this impromptu getaway lighting my phone up like Christmas in suburbia.

"I will be."
Chapter Nine: Penny

I felt a tickle in my throat.

I burrowed deeper in my covers, letting myself fantasize about a reality that would never be. I wanted to turn the tickle into a full on cold and text my sister, telling her I couldn't come to the final fitting. Then I'd ignore her texts ordering me to put a band aid on it and get my ass to her suite. Eventually she'd send someone to fetch me, using force if possible, probably Lara since she'd be pissed at that stage. I'd save up all the saliva I could and as soon as Lara got close I'd cough as hard as I could. Lara would run for cover, scrambling for Purell as she confirmed that I was bedridden. My sister would let it go and have a good morning, commenting that I didn't matter anyway. I'd have a good morning because I didn't have to put up with Bridezilla and her minions...and I could re-read all the texts Xander sent me last night, apologizing for the cruel comment he made and for dumping me into his family's lap, then snatching me away at the last minute. The anger that made me want to remove his head from his body had gone from a raging river to an annoying trickle from a leaky faucet, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.

Even though I knew my phone would just confirm that I couldn't stay in the bed any longer, I pressed the button. 8:43 AM. The fitting was at 9.

I turned to the nightstand and the neon numbers taunted me. I clutched the deliciously soft down comforter, pulling it up to my chin and pouting like a kid who didn't want to go to school. I knew that whether I got out of bed or not, at 8:45 on the dot, my room would 'wake up'. The blinds would open, bombarding me with the sun and a city that already had a few hours on me, classical music would pour out of the speakers that was more patronizing than relaxing--and that's just the way my sister wanted it. She'd set up reservations at the most expensive boutique hotel in San Francisco, complete with a pretentious concierge with a haughty British accent and rooms filled with unnecessary amenities like a bidet to wash your butt and a pre-programmed system that my sister arranged to summon me whenever she wanted me.

I groaned as the system kicked in and daylight streamed into the room. I couldn't burrow deep enough to escape any of it. And even if I cried wolf about being sick, hell would freeze over if I thought I wasn't standing by her side tomorrow.

I stared up at the ivory colored ceiling, letting my imagination run wild. I pictured the best day of my sister's life. The flowers that turned the already lush garden the ceremony was being held at into a literal Eden. The string quartet that hummed a classical arrangement of their song, 'Just The Way You Are'. The white chairs that held family and friends and a who's who of Bay Area society. Everyone smiling, thrilled for a ticket to the event of the century as Victoria graced us with the very first look at her vintage Carolina Herrera. Her ken doll hubby would be waiting in his suit and tie, eyes welling with emotion before he shut that girly crap down, and everyone would oo and ahh and we'd all believe in love and happily ever afters because we saw it with our own two eyes.

It would be perfect...or else.

And then I saw something else flickering out of the corner of my eye. He sat in the center, on the bride's side. He looked so sexy in his suit that it was almost obscene. From his slender black tie and the muscles that rippled beneath his jacket and crisp white shirt, you couldn't help but imagine the pieces trailing from the door to the bed. His dark locks were ruffled by the wind and you just had to run your fingers through it. Tug it as he did things to your body...

He smiled and I shut my eyes but it didn't scrub away his face. He was tattooed on my subconscious: every angle, how he made me melt with a simple curving of his lips, and those eyes. I thought the green was filled with warning, to proceed with caution because he was trouble. But I'd caught something else yesterday. Proceed with caution--because I don't want to break your heart.

Which was part of the problem. We made this arrangement to keep our hearts out of it. I was starting to believe that was an impossible thing to ask of something that had no rhyme or reason. Love was just love. It just happened.

And I think I was--

"No!" I hissed, hurling the covers from me like I was tossing away the L word. I dragged my body from the bed and rushed to the bathroom. I wet a washcloth and covered my face with it. When I dropped the terry cloth veil I knew that I didn't just have it bad. I had it bad.

I gripped the sink, my hands shaking and like my body had a mind of its own, I tiptoed my fingers up my forearm, rounding my shoulder, and paused when I touched my collarbone. It didn't compare to his touch, when he claimed me with his hands, then his mouth, but I was right back at the winery regardless, saying his name.

"Xander." I brought my fingers to my lips and remembered the way he tasted.

I snatched my hands from my face and launched myself into the shower with a mission: not to think of him. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, and just when I thought I'd locked him away somewhere he couldn't invade my waking thoughts too, I'd touch some part of my body that betrayed me and I was wet--and it had nothing to do with the water.

I snatched back the fabric shower curtain, deciding that if sheer willpower didn't work, I'd go with a dependable, yet equally unhealthy approach. I'd make a mental list of all the reasons falling for Xander was a terrible idea.

1. We met in a sex club. Enough said.

2. I didn't belong in his world. I was a teacher. Our little jaunt to Livermore probably cost more than what I made in a month. I grew up in the suburbs, he grew up in a freaking castle.

3. Our relationship was built on a lie. His father basically was forcing an arranged relationship on him, just to screw around with his head.

The throbbing between my thighs tried to coax me back to the good memories. Not just how right it felt to be with Xander, but how good it felt to be with someone that put me first. That derived pleasure from my pleasure, instead of me scrambling to figure out what I needed to do to make my partner happy so they wouldn't abandon me.

And that was a good number 4. I couldn't even hear Marshall's name or see the places we used to go together without wanting to burn something to the ground. How could I fall for someone when my heart was still in pieces?

I toweled myself off and slipped back into the bedroom, just in time to catch a biting text from my sister.

How long until you get here? We're all waiting, you know.

I dropped it back onto the mattress, knowing that she wasn't expecting a reply anyway...she was expecting me to get there, immediately. Annoyance kept thoughts of Xander at arm's length as I slathered on lotion and tugged on an oversized tunic and leggings and stepped into my flats. I knew if I brought my phone I'd check for texts from him, so I left it on the bed, walking down the corridor toward Victoria's suite.

I expected more of the same, the world turning without me, my presence a mere formality. But when I knocked on the door, I came face to face with Victoria, her pale eyes round with concern.

"Penny, are you okay?"

"Yes?" I said gingerly, suddenly self conscious when I realized the room was dead quiet because I'd just interrupted a conversation, and it was clear from the way all eyes landed on me, then dropped guiltily, it was a conversation about me. "What's going on?"

Victoria's expression softened as she drew me into the room, looping her arm through mine. It was something that you did with a confidante, something warm and friendly and safe. My sister wasn't friendly with me unless it benefited her somehow, so I kept my guard up.

"I just wanted to apologize for the way Lara behaved yesterday."

Silence still filled the air but in my head, I heard a record scratch. "What?"

"She was rude. Unnecessarily so and that's not what I want this weekend to be about."

I blinked, sure that either my eyes or my ears were deceiving me. I couldn't find any sign that Victoria was about to snort from suppressing her laughter, or spy a rope tied to a bucket of blood and I was about to be drenched, the joke, as always, on me. Just to make sure, I made my rounds, eyeballing each of her friends. They all seemed genuinely apologetic. Or sympathetic. No matter how I sliced it, it was moving, and my heart swelled a little bit in my chest. I frowned as I darted around the room once more and realized that Lara was nowhere to be found.

My sister patted my shoulder gingerly. "I told her to sit today out. We'll make any last minute alterations she needs later this afternoon."

This was just becoming stranger and stranger. Now Victoria was picking me over her friends?

"What a beautiful gift!" A throaty voice stepped in and I hesitantly released my sister's gaze, turning to the stranger. The woman was petite, with fragile features that collectively sighed in awe when she looked back and forth between my sister and I. "It's her special day and she's looking out for her little sister. Weddings bring everyone together!"

Murmurs of agreement and wide eyed appreciation were bestowed on Victoria and she soaked it up like a sponge.

"That's what sisters do, right?" Victoria smiled and gave my forearm a tight, warning of a squeeze. I got the silent command--all is forgiven, so be on your best behavior.

It was much easier for me to grin and play my role when I knew what was expected of me. Victoria Robertson, the champion for the downtrodden and abused. And I was in her debt until the end of time because of the huge sacrifice of asking her maid of honor to sit out of the final fitting appointment.

As the seamstress chatted with my sister about the joys of marriage and all the beautiful children she'd have, yanking and tugging to give a dress shape that clung to the rest of them and hung limply on me, I tried to convince myself that the end was nigh. Just one more day and we could all go back to ignoring each other. It should have been a sad, but comforting thought, but the only thing I could muster was sadness. Sad that for a moment, I believed my sister and I were at a turning point.

Sad that after the wedding, I'd be closer to having to say goodbye to Xander.

I managed to smile, laugh, compliment, and listen when I was supposed to and the weird look in my sister's eyes was replaced with relief. Two hours later, my sister headed off to finalize everything at the salon, and I headed back to my room to raid the minibar.

I swiped the card through the reader and opened the door, kicking off one shoe before I gasped.

Words failed me.

The Eden I'd pictured for my sister had come to life. Dozens of vases filled with roses covered the room, the bed and desk peeking out from a sea of red. The first was at my ankles and I plucked up the tiny notecard.

"You'll either think this is a romantic grand gesture or you'll think I'm utterly insane," I read the card aloud, my fingers shaking. "Either way, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. You're not a piece of tail. I'm honored that you're mine, Penny. And I want to be yours, if you'll have me."

I already knew my answer, but I re-read the card until the words blurred because my body was doing that thing again. Betraying me.

Just as I brought the roses to my nose to add a scent to remember this afternoon forever, knocks erupted at my door. Without thinking, without bothering to look in the peephole I yanked it open, ready to forgive everything and kiss him until my lips fell off.

Victoria stared back at me, the concern back in her eyes. "Penny, I wanted to-" She saw the roses and instead of excitement, she looked furious. She shoved past me, picking up the first vase she came to. I held my breath, sure she was about to throw it at the wall. I'd never seen her so unhinged. The woman who stood before me shook as she glared down at the roses like they held some sort of contagion.

"He sent these, didn't he?" Before I could tell her it was none of her business, she snatched the card from my hand, skimming the words with a scowl. "Unbelievable!"

Now I was pissed. "You storm in here, and then you insult me?"

And she wasn't done insulting me, because her expression shifted into work mode, like she was explaining a cold to a pair of idiot parents. "Don't you see? He's playing games with you."

"I know you don't think that anyone worth a damn could possibly be interested-"

"Don't be so dramatic." She held the vase at arm's length and lowered it back to where she'd found it. She maneuvered around the sea of flowers until she reached me, putting a hand on each shoulder and looking me dead in the eye. "I know you're happy, which is why this is so hard for me to say. Your boyfriend--Xander--he's going to break your heart." Her grip tightened, her eyes filling with water. It had to be water because I'd never seen my sister cry. I didn't think she was capable of any emotion that could signify weakness.

"Look Victoria-"

"Just listen," she interrupted. Her voice dropped to a solemn, worried level. "If you stay with Xander Wade, he'll break your heart."

~

Thank you for taking the time to read Because You Want Me (Falling For You, Book One). Please consider leaving a review. xoxo, Ava
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and fantasizing about her favorite book boyfriends.

Connect with Ava:

Blog: http://avaclaireromantica.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ava.claire.9

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/xhR39

Twitter: @avaclairewrites

Stay tuned to my blog for up to date information on my works in progress and release schedules!

