Tempting Her Fake Fiance Page 5

  “Shouldn’t or don’t want to?” he murmured against the softness of her skin. “Because the only reason we shouldn’t is if you’re still in love.”

  For a second, she didn’t move, and he wondered if he should stop before he went too far…if Travers was still a player in this game of hers. Then she fisted his T-shirt, drawing it up, before pressing her mouth to his. There was no going slow now, she was open and offering herself to him. Her tongue darted between his lips, and he spun her around, pressing her to the wall. Stasia let out a startled gasp that only spurred him on.

  He wanted to taste every fucking inch of her. If she let him, that’s exactly what he’d spend the rest of the night doing. “Tell me what you want, babe.” When another gasping breath was her only response, he moved closer, pressing his erection against her and rubbing as he bit her earlobe. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

  “Yes. God, yes.”

  The way she said it, as if there weren’t air for anything except the words, almost undid him. He’d never in his life wanted a woman the way he wanted Stasia Grant. His hands fumbled with her slacks for a few seconds before he managed to undo the button and ease them down her legs. Her panties followed soon after. He needed to be inside her. Now.

  With a jerk, he undid his belt and shoved off his jeans. Condom. He needed a fucking condom. He’d quit sex so long ago that he worried for a second he didn’t have one. But he’d grabbed an old wallet for the trip. Please, God. He yanked it from his pocket, whispering thanks as he pulled the foil square free.

  He was shaking with need so badly, he didn’t think he’d be able to open the package without destroying the thin barrier. Handing it to Stasia, he said, “Open it and put it on me, babe. I want to feel your hands on my cock.”

  And her mouth. And her pussy.

  Stasia tore open the foil and nearly dropped the condom when it popped out of the package. Protection safely in hand, she sank to her knees in front of him, and Evan groaned.

  The condom was less than an inch from his skin when she looked up at him with a hint of panic in her eyes. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing wrong. But if you don’t fucking hurry, I’m going to take you without the damn thing.” He guided her hand forward until the latex hit his tip, making his cock twitch. Fortunately, she wasn’t deterred and rolled the condom on.

  The instant she was standing again, he kissed her and, as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, he eased his fingers between her folds. She was so wet and ready. There was no need for foreplay—and he didn’t have the patience for it, not when they both so clearly wanted the same thing. Evan lifted her, pressing her back against the wall as he moved closer, his cock licking her wetness as he slid into place.

  Her breath came in little gasps, and her fingernails dug into his back through the T-shirt. For a second, he wished he’d taken it off. There was nothing sexier than a woman so into the moment that she unleashed her inner animal, biting and clawing. But that much sexiness from Stasia and he wouldn’t last long at all.

  Jesus, she was tight. The kind that came from not having sex in ages. “You okay, babe?”

  She nodded rapidly, twisting her hips as if she wanted more of him, but he wasn’t sure full entry was the best idea. No matter how good it would feel to him, the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. “More,” she begged.

  Holy shit. She undid him completely. There was no way he was denying her anything. “Then hold on.”

  The pressure from her nails increased with every thrust of his hips. He buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he drove into her. Her quiet moans got louder and louder, soon turning into gasps for air that mirrored his own. She was kissing her way up his neck when she started to clench around him. Then she caught his earlobe between her teeth, biting hard as her orgasm tore through her.

  She bucked against him, and the pressure of her teeth, nails, and pussy pushed him over the edge. His balls went tight—there was no more holding back. He came so hard stars danced at the edge of his vision. Leaning into her, he held himself up against the wall until the world righted itself.

  When he moved back, she wore a dreamy, contented expression, her eyes hooded and oh so very sexy. He pressed his lips to hers. “If that’s what’s in store every time we have sex, I might have to marry you for real.”

  She stiffened. “I… I think we should get cleaned up.”

  When she pushed against his arms, he didn’t have the strength to hold her up. She’d shocked the energy right out of him. She dropped to the carpet and ducked around the corner, shutting the door to the bathroom behind her.

  He’d just had the best sex of his life, and she ran off right after? What the hell happened in the ten seconds between her freshly fucked look and her descent into…whatever this was?

  Chapter Four

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Stasia held onto the bathroom door while she waited for Evan’s reaction. She’d spent nearly fifteen minutes in the bathroom trying to come to grips with the fact that she’d just had sex with a man she barely knew.

  Granted she knew all about Evan Stone from her research. But that included the knowledge he was the kind of guy who had women literally throwing their panties at him during appearances. The sex wouldn’t have meant anything to him, but it meant a lot to her. Too much, if she was the least bit honest with herself.

  “Supposed to, should… You don’t have to think that way with me.” Evan moved toward her.

  Stasia retreated a step, but there was nowhere to go. Her spine pressed against the door to the hall. “Says you. We agreed for this to be a business arrangement. You get an improved reputation. I get to make Paul feel two inches tall. Then we go our separate ways.”

  “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t want me, Stasia? Because I sure as hell wanted you.” The half smile he wore was driving her crazy. She couldn’t tell if it meant he thought she was being childish or what.

  That’s Paul talking, not Evan.

  The thought made her blink. Thus far, Evan hadn’t done anything to make her feel less than. She needed to give him that much courtesy as well. “I did want you.” I still do. “But we can’t do that again.”

  “We’re going to be spending the week pretending to be engaged. Kissing and public displays of affection to get your ex to sit up and take notice are going to be the order of the week.” He ran his tongue along the inside of his lips, and she wanted more than anything for him to do the same inside hers. “Unless you’re still hung up on Travers, why not embrace this week for what it could be? And based on the time we’ve spent together so far, it could be amazing.”

  She blinked at him, and her hand fluttered down to her throat. Was he kidding? Of course she was over Paul, but… “A fling? You’re asking me to become one of your tabloid romances?”

  “No. Shit. I definitely didn’t mean it like that.” Evan caught her hands in his. “I’m not necessarily saying sex, but I enjoyed the hell out of what we just did. I thought you did, too.” She couldn’t deny it, so she just stared at their entwined fingers, reveling in how gently he touched her now. “I mainly mean we don’t have to be different behind closed doors or away from cameras. I like kissing you. I like holding you close.”

  “I like those things, too. But sex needs to be off the table. As much as I like you, Evan, it…” makes me too emotionally vulnerable. “It just can’t happen again.”

  He exhaled slowly, and she could almost feel his disappointment in it. “If that’s what you need, I won’t push.” In the space of a breath, he closed the distance between them and tipped her chin up until she met his eyes. “What about the rest of it?”

  Stasia could barely breathe with him this close, like the only way she could get air was if his lips were on hers. “Okay. I’m okay with the rest.” Smiling, he pecked a kiss on the tip of her nose and stepped back, giving her enough space to get her head on straight again. “Does this mean we’re short-term dating…ish?”

  “If
you need to give it a name, that works.”

  And sounds way better than fling.

  She nodded rapidly and tried to exhale all the stress, convincing herself it was indeed okay. As long as she stayed out of his pants, it’d be enough distance to keep her from getting in too deep. She hoped. “So, does that mean you’re buying dinner?”

  Evan tugged her close, and she let out a surprised squeak. “It means the sky’s the limit, babe. Order whatever you want.”

  Dinner arrived thirty minutes later and proved to be the most surreal experience of Stasia’s life. Sitting at the little table in her cheap hotel room, across from the action star who she’d literally had her legs wrapped around not so long ago, and talking about growing up and their families should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. It felt perfectly natural, like they’d been doing this for years.

  As much as she thought she knew about Evan Stone, it turned out her information was only the tip of a very big iceberg. She knew Evan had a sister named Vicky, but no interview had ever shown how close they obviously were. He talked about his little sister like she hung the moon and stars. The walls around Stasia’s heart scraped against the iceberg and started to crumble a little.

  “You know, this is the side of you America needs to see,” she said, and he only shrugged in response. “Okay, fine. Something easier to talk about then.” She tore through the mental file containing all the pre-interview research she’d done on him. “I’ve got it, something simple. Wikipedia lists you as Evan K. Stone, but that’s the closest the internet has to a middle name. Is it like Harry S. Truman? Just the initial but no name?”

  “No, it’s like they shouldn’t have even figured out the K.” He stabbed a bite of his steak and popped it in his mouth, chewing like the meat had personally offended him.

  This was too funny to pass up. “You have a secret middle name? It can’t be that bad. I mean, mine is Louise for goodness sake. Kids called me Ana-Lou growing up.”

  Evan shook his head as he finished chewing. “Stasia, I like you—a lot—but there are certain things no one but family gets to know.”

  “And here I thought I was your fiancée.”

  “Fine. In that case, I’ll make sure you know by the time we’re standing at the altar.”

  Stasia laughed. Even though the reporter in her wanted to push for more, she wouldn’t; the line between his public persona versus his private family life was one she would do her best to respect. Then again, it presented a reality she hadn’t ever considered. What if his public persona wasn’t as real as she believed—and she believed less than most people. What if half his dalliances had been some idiot PR person’s great idea and a chunk of the other half fabricated by the media? Unlikely. Besides, it wasn’t like he had any real reason to be honest about any of it. In less than a week, they’d attend the premiere gala, and then they’d part ways and he could go back to being whatever guy he wanted to be.

  For now, she needed to focus on getting to know him well enough to be believable as a couple. “Okay, so you talked about your sister, what about your mom?” There were details Stasia knew, but she wanted to see the emotion behind his answer.

  He laid his fork down and pushed away the plate, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Dad left when I was twelve—found himself a new family and never looked back. My mom… She was amazing. She always believed that it was just one chapter of our lives ending so a new, better one, could start. There were nights I was supposed to be asleep when I heard her crying, but during the day, she was our rock.”

  Stasia shared his smile, wishing she could be that strong, but there was nothing of the old her left. Too many years with Paul’s constant, emotional beat downs had broken and buried the woman she once was. “Your mom sounds incredible.”

  “Pretty much. She raised us on her own, made us believe in magic and truth and the value of hard work. Dad only showed up when he wanted to pretend to be father of the year. And then when I got my first starring role, of course.” He took a swig of water. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

  “Huge.” She let out a laugh, covering her mouth when she realized how loud it was.

  Evan tugged her hand down. “Don’t do that. You have a great laugh. Now, define huge.”

  “Well, bigger than any of my friends. I am the youngest of six kids, and my parents were high school sweethearts. If they ever came close to breaking up, they never let on to any of us. They didn’t know how to handle my divorce since the family had no experience with it.” She twisted her napkin, her salad all but forgotten. “They were great, but they really weren’t sure what to do with me after Paul left.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Stasia let out another laugh, this one with less mirth than the first. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Honestly, in this day and age, my family has kind of an absurd track record for successful marriages. Mine just wasn’t one of them.” She smoothed the napkin next to her plate. “What about you? Ever thought about settling down? Losing the whole playboy image?”

  “Is this for the interview or for you?”

  Translation: was the information leaving this room? “Me. If I’m going to be your fiancée, I have to believe it, remember?”

  He reached across the space between them and squeezed her hand. Part of her wanted to pull him closer, go against everything they’d agreed to after their mad rush to get in each other’s pants. His touch was gone before she could figure out if she’d lost her mind. “There was a woman named Paige once upon a time, before I became a star.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but there was old hurt lining his face. “She seemed like the real deal, but I was just a stepping stone for her. As soon as she caught a talent scout’s eye at an industry party, she was gone. After that, I figured if the right woman came along, I’d know it. Hasn’t happened yet.”

  It sounded like her and Paul. When they’d met in college, she’d been the better student and had helped him graduate. Then she’d helped him get his first job. She’d interned with the anchor of a small local station when she was home during the summer, and he’d hired Paul on Stasia’s recommendation. Stepping stone, indeed.

  “Besides,” he added, “settling down isn’t in the best interests of my career. Women hated the guy I was, but they still like the idea of me being on the market. In order to optimize fan appreciation, sexy and single is the goal—just never completely single for too long.”

  “That sounds…lonely.”

  Evan shrugged, brushing the concern off. “It’s the life I chose. If I want to keep it, I need to play the game better than I have in the past.”

  Thirty minutes later, she knew more about Evan than she’d ever thought he’d share—yet, she still felt as if she’d barely scratched the surface. Some part of her had expected him to be shallow, vapid even, but he was…nice. Interesting. She was still pondering how much of it was real as they walked over to the Venetian. He was holding her hand and dragging her suitcase, smiling at people they passed as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

  Women kept yelling his name or grabbing at him like they could have him forever if they only touched him. He smiled and waved, but beyond minimal politeness, he never lingered. And the weight of jealous gazes rested heavily on Stasia’s back when they moved on. If the women only knew…

  Evan did make one exception in the wave-and-keep-walking plan. A little girl, who was either up way past her bedtime or still living in some other time zone, stepped toward him with wide eyes and tugged on his jeans. “Are you the Time Phantom?”

  In an instant, a man was trying to lure her away. “I’m sorry, sir. Come on now, Bailey, don’t bother Mr. Stone.”

  Evan let go and parked the suitcase next to Stasia as he knelt down. “No worries at all. Hey, Bailey, come here.” The little blonde, suddenly shy, hid behind her father’s leg but edged closer, and Evan lowered his voice. “I am the Time Phantom, but I’m on a secret mission. That means we can’t announce it to everyone, or
Doctor Angel is going to find me.”

  The Time Phantom had been Evan’s breakout role, solidifying him a spot as superhero film royalty. Whether or not they’d seen the films, most people knew Evan had owned that role—and the skintight costume that came with it.

  Stasia tried to keep from smiling as Bailey turned big blue eyes up and whispered, “Are you protecting her?”

  “I am. She’s very important.” His eyes shifted toward Stasia for a second, and her heart melted a bit as his lips quirked into a subtle smile. “Want to know a secret? You can’t tell anyone, especially not Doctor Angel. Okay?” Bailey’s mouth dropped into a tiny O, and she moved to stand close to Evan, who clandestinely waved at the phone in her father’s hand. As the man stepped back to take a picture, Evan leaned in and whispered in Bailey’s ear.

  The little girl’s eyes went even wider. “Really?”

  “Yep. Our secret, though, okay?”

  “Sure.” She looked up at Stasia as if seeing a real, live princess for the first time.

  “Great.” Evan twisted Bailey around and pointed at her dad. “Now, smile so we can get one more picture, and make sure your dad posts it to my Facebook page because I want a copy.” At her father’s nod that he’d taken the shot, Evan gave the girl a hug. “Remember, you’re a Time Shadow now. You have to keep my secret.”

  “Forever.” She grinned, threw her arms around his neck for a second, and then ran back to her dad. The guy mouthed a thank-you as they walked away.

  There was nothing sexier to Stasia than a man who was good with kids. If it had at all been in her nature, she would have kissed Evan senseless right then and there and retracted every statement she’d made about no more sex. Watching him walk back toward her, muscles shifting under that ridiculously fitted T-shirt, she was getting wet all over again. In an attempt to regain some control of herself, she arched a brow at him as he took the suitcase and her hand again. “Time Phantom secrets?”

  “I’d tell you, but then you’d never be allowed out of my sight.” Lights danced in his eyes as they strode toward the Palazzo entrance.