MAMA 01- Fake it till we make it

TOKYO, JAPAN

CHLOE MAE BERSALES was wanted! Indeed. She'd been wanted in a good and bad way—from her enraged father to being a billion-dollar Baby Mama of an innocent soul that she would meet nine months from now. The page of her book went beyond extraordinary when the billionaire CEO of Greyson Stockholdings disclosed an offer she could not resist. Well, that was two months ago and in baby steps, she learned to play along in the cycle. An unexpected yet interesting progression in her old mundane life. 

"Hey, are you even listening to me?" Ira questioned in a flat tone. 

The man's sexy baritone voice burst her bubble of thoughts and pulled her back into the present. It was then Chloe realized he was blabbering pointers she needed to heed once they headed home to the Philippines. The truth was they've been together for almost ninety days but they just tied the knot ten hours ago. Their wedding ceremony was held in a private hotel and was officiated by a pastor. Absurd it may seem but the only witness in binding them as an official couple was Sukrru—his loyal driver slash personal assistant. 

Apart from that, there was no one else because she stated she was a complete orphan. She purposely hid her true identity; her dramatic press release though. On the other hand, Ira's parents were absent too. Of course, she had no guts to ask why. How in the world could she be if she was under his thumb? He had the upper hand factually.

"I'm asking you, Chloe." He inquired again, enunciating every word with absolute authority. No. He's not mad. It was her spouse's normal tone; the usual way whenever they have a word.

"Ah, yes. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't," Chloe's voice was soft and mellow.

She chewed on the inner part of her lower lip as her candle-like fingers clenched tighter against the soft fabric of her cream Peggy midriff dress. It was delivered yesterday in her suite by Shantel, Ira's stylist. Along with it were a pair of champagne ballet flats, a set of emerald green earrings, a choker embedded with the same birthstone, and a designer watch to seal her minimalist bridal outfit. After some time, she averted her interest in her husband and was flustered for a second. Soon their gazes steadfastly met and locked. 

Ira's deep-set lenient peepers were fixated on her face, making her uncomfortable against the leather seat of the limo. For a moment, she saw amusement in them, or maybe it was just a figment of her robust imagination. Anyhow, it was as if a staring game with a beast who was just waiting for her to back down. Chloe could only swallow the small lump forming in her throat. Just by watching him before she felt a jolt of electricity surging in every fibre and nerve-ending in her body. The butterflies in her stomach danced blissfully too. Her insides were rattling with ecstatic tension, nevertheless, she tried to remain composed. I hope so, she quietly muttered. 

"Are you sure you heard everything I just said now?" 

"Yeah. Of course." She managed to speak despite the pressure rumbling in her chest.

"Seems to me your mind's elsewhere. What? Wedding jitters still in?" 

Blowing a large breath, Chloe tersely said, "I may seem like a bikini-babe airhead to you, but I assure you that every deets in our contract sowed in my mind. There is nothing you have to worry about."

"I'm glad you're not," he apathetically countered, referring to her statement of not being an airhead. "Nice to know you get my daft."

Then Ira cocked his head aside, studying her. Well, he was sure she was darn distracted. So what? Why the hell would he care? It's not like he's concerned about her emotions; the way she thinks of him; or how she sees him as a man or such. Those were the ideas carried out through his blasted mind as he kept on gawking at the lady. Alright, he would not deny she's one hell of an insatiable allure. Chloe's fresh and vibrant aura was an addition to her gorgeous assets but that's it. Nothing follows. 

When it comes to love and sex he preferred experienced women and not a girl who had no flair for anything that involved kinks. The ironic part was that she was the only available item in the shed when he was searching for his Baby Mama. He didn't have plenty of time back then. So, yeah, it was the very reason as to why they were together now. Ira harrumphed, loosened his tie, and fumbled for the phone in his pocket. He busied himself with the gadget afterwards. 

Meanwhile, Chloe took the chance to appreciate his magnificent masculinity. She may at least relish in the charade while it lasts. Sure, she dated guys her age specifically in the fashion world. Low key dating as her friends tagged it, regardless, Ira Miguel was an exception to the rule. He was like her favorite coffee. So rich, hot, and could make you up all night. He's dominant but scrumptiously handsome; his entire personality was snatched. Though she knew he was mercurial and even supercilious, she wouldn't deny there's this part in her that was attracted to him. 

The first time their eyes met after she woke up in the hospital, her heart fluttered romantically. Why the hell not? Mister hottie Greyson was the epitome of every woman's dream. No cap. Had they met on another chance, perhaps their love quest wouldn't be like that. She was so indulged by him to even care about his reaction. On the contrary, Ira hated to admit it but he was basking in the heat of the moment, too. He was damn amused by the way she gazed at him. 

"Staring is rude," he bit out, feigning amusement. The words slipped naturally from his lips just like Ergox—his favourite brand of wine.

Using her left hand, Chloe clutched some loose tendrils from her bob cut hairstyle and tucked them behind her ear. She was guilty so what's the sense of denying it anyway? For the nth time, she cleared her throat and was about to apologize for her misbehaviour when Ira spoke again. 

"Come to think of it. I just now realized you're an A-plus, too. I'm rooting for you, Mrs. Greyson."

Her forehead scrunched for a while, contemplating what he was talking about. But it didn't take long before the idea girdled in her mind. She demurely clamped her hand onto the buckle of her trench coat and opened her mouth again to respond. 

"Sure thing," Chloe smiled sheepishly before nodding confidently. "I know I'm smart but thanks for the compliment, anyway."

So then it was a cue for Ira to look back at his wife. Now with rapt attention that made her heart hammered voraciously inside her chest. She could also feel her knees quivering as if they were turning into jellies. Holy motherf*cking angels! 

"I'm not praising you. Don't be misled, braggart." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. 

"B-braggart?" She incredulously reiterated.  

She even had to fight the urge not to roll her eyes. The nerve! She was sure the mofo was teasing her, deliberately hitting a nerve. Ira even waved his hand upright as if his words won't cut through her. 

"It's not that I'm insulting you or what. I'm trying to entertain you, Chloe."

"By entertaining means mocking me, right? I never thought a jerk could be this sweet." Her lips tore into a sullen pout. She couldn't help but use sarcasm.

"Jerk? I'm not even close to that." Ira did not blink a bit, giving her a lazy peer.

"Let me get this straight to you, mister. Just because I owe you something doesn't mean you can walk all over me or call me such names." Her voice slightly trembled at the end. So unfair! 

Ira shrugged passively. "But you must not forget I invested a lot in you. Make sure you are worth every penny and of my trust."

She squared her shoulders and replied with such grace and aplomb, "You have my word."

"We'll see about it." 

After that, her eyes shifted back onto the road. Truth be told she could not stand his intense, brazen gazes. It was as if he was making love to her without taking her clothes off. The carnal thought sent luscious chills down her spine and a titillating warmth into her throbbing sheath. She felt sweltered. Geez!

On the other side, Ira's aristocratic black brows knitted together as his interest went back onto his phone. He needed to divert his attention before his arousal drove him to madness. He was rock hard and could feel the bulbous head of his member kissing against the band of his jockey. If he could be honest, he wanted to release his active swimmers so badly. Too bad the odds were not in favour of him today. 

But then he remembered they just got married! He had all the right to claim his wife in any illicit and wanton positions he wanted to. They could do it right there and then but forcing a pregnant woman to highlight the condition, and spread her smexy legs right before him was never his cup of tea. He could not recall a time he coerced someone to fulfil his lustful needs. It was always the other way around. Ira squeezed his eyes shut and heaved a deep, frazzled breath. He painfully needed to control himself. Damn.

"Anyway, are you done packing?" he interrupted and went on, "we need to get there by seven in the morning tomorrow." 

Without looking at him she replied, "Yes, Mr. Greyson. I'm all set since yesterday." 

"Mister Greyson, huh? Lack of other polite euphemisms to address your husband?" Ira sneered, fingers still working against the screen of his phone. 

"What do you mean by that?" she spat. Her attention was still on the highway. 

"C'mon, do I have to spell it out for you?" 

Chloe blew out an agitated sigh before turning into him again. "Are you for real? I don't think we should consider using such endearment because we're not in love in the true sense of—"

"And yet we're married," he immediately cut her off. "Don't forget that you are my wife now." He stressed while brushing his ring finger, displaying their wedding band. 

Wife my ass! The small voice at the back of her head shrieked. She pressed her lips together and reminded herself not to yell at him. Shame on her twisted ride of emotions. One moment she's calm and relaxed, the next minute she's all out for animosity. Must she blame it on the hormones? Normalize blaming everything on your hormones. Her subconscious glared at her and cocked a brow. Bitch. 

"One more thing, make sure to act normal in front of my parents. They could sense it right away when something dubious is going on." 

"Sure. Anything you need, babe." Chloe did her best to conceal annoyance by plastering a smile. An inorganic one. 

"So it's babe from now on? Smooth." He was so calm but his eyes glinted in irrepressible mischief.

 "Why? Don't you like it?" She shot back with a challenging, questioning stare. 

But Ira knew how to play his cards well. He hastily plastered his legendary charming smile, never breaking eye contact with her. His hot, risqué gaze lingered for quite long and the weight of his stare was seeping through her veins. 

"Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against that endearment, but don't you think it's overrated? Think of another call sign that will suit us. Something sweet but tangy and spicy." He ordered like a king to his peasant. 

"Are you telling me that…my opinion matters to you now?" She carefully asked. 

"Is that how you see it?" More sarcasm. 

Chloe gathered all of the remaining patience in her body, slowly cooling herself down. The tingling heat of sensation she felt earlier plummeted into negative. The wildfire subsided perfectly. She felt squeamish about their conversation, so she rested her head against the leather pad. 

"Why are you so petty? Can we not argue about this?" She spoke with all the gentleness she could provide. 

Ira let out a sexy pesky chuckle. "All right. I'm not arguing with my pregnant wife anymore." 

"As if you're concerned about what I feel."

In a snap, Chloe felt his steely arms clamped around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his chiselled chest. In those three months, he never crossed the line and it was the first time he made a move like that. And hey, she was too surprised to absorb it. She could barely move and was hyperventilating too. She struggled to let go of him but to no avail. Just when she got a whiff of his manly pleasant smell, she almost closed her eyes. Who would not? His scent alone was enough to be an aphrodisiac. Mamamia! Her pregnancy turned her into a sex goddess. Incredible hormones! 

"What are you d-doing?" she startled. Her eyes mirrored his. 

"We're not bickering over this, are we?" 

She tried to squirm free from his hold again but Ira held onto her tighter until she could not wiggle her arms anymore. She's caught off guard. 

"Did you bang your head somewhere? May I just remind you there is no such touching included in our agreement." 

Ira laughed scornfully. "You better browse clause four-point four again. So much for reading all the details, eh?"

"I don't remember reading that in the contract. Wait… did you tamper it?" 

For a moment he was pensive. He even bent his head aside, but the hell she would buy it. 

"Did I? That I can't remember." 

"You said it is watertight. How could you breach the contract?" Chloe lambasted, eyes gritty into curious slits.

"Whatever you say, babe." 

"Let me go. I can't breathe!" It was a lie. 

"Stop wriggling," he admonished. His gazes became dark. "Take this as a drill. Don't worry you'll get used to this eventually." 

"PDA drill, you mean?" 

"Don't be silly. We need to fake it 'til we make it," Ira chided. "Take a nap. I'll wake you up once we get to the penthouse." He instructed, leaving her without a choice but to stop squirming. 

What was he up to? Did he just flirt with me?  Why was he giving mixed signals about this relationship? The questions in her mind were non-stop, but she had to fire him the real deal. 

"Can I ask something?" Chloe jerked her head up to meet his daunting, luminous eyes. 

"Unless it's not important then don't push it." 

"Of course it is," she countered.

"Fire it away then," Ira incited, never breaking eye contact. 

"Do you plan to consummate this sham marriage?" 

There was a deafening silence after that but she felt him stiffen. It was as if she cast a spell on him because he refused to reply.

His arms clasped around her shoulder went extra tight. She was sure he was surprised by her blunt question. Did he expect her to act like a noblewoman miss-two-goody-shoes? Bad news: she's not living under a rock.  

"Fine. I'd better sleep now." 

"Yes, babe. Rest now, sex later," Ira whispered seductively before claiming her lips in a wild, passionate kiss.

And when she kissed back, he knew the next big thing was about to unfold.