All Chapters of His Fake Fiancee: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

EVEN THOUGH IT'S been a week since our date, I can still see the look my brother gave me at dinner when I close my eyes. The copious amounts of alcohol he ingested that night couldn't hide the rage on his face. Couldn’t conceal the jealousy in its purest form when he realized what I'd done, how I'd corrupted Hannah.But although I can't stop replaying the night in my head—the way she offered herself up to me, melted in my hands like chocolate—one nagging thought refuses to leave my brain.Did she do it because she wanted it? Because she wanted me?Sterling's words slither about in my brain, the ones he threw at me during our family gathering. If she's messing around with you, it's only to get my attention.Maybe he was right. Maybe the notorious playboy broke her heart, and I'm a stepping-stone to get back to who she really wants.John appraises me through the rearview mirror of the car, clearly reading my torment. I avoid his eyes, trying not to think about how good Hannah looks sitt

I TAP MY FOOT IMPATIENTLY, pressing my phone to my ear. "And why couldn't we let John drive us to this secretive date of yours again?"A full duffle bag sits on the ground by my feet as I wait in the apartment's parking garage. She said we would be gone the entire weekend and hasn't given me a single hint about where we're going or what we're doing.It's not that I hate surprises, it's just... that I do. They're uncontrollable. And that sentiment alone goes against my very nature."Where's the fun in that?" Hannah's voice spews from the phone, and I jerk my head away before bringing it back to hear the familiar honking of the New York streets coming from her end. "And besides, you offered me your company card for the rental, so I couldn't resist."I sigh, staring at the rows of luxury cars, many of them mine. "Do you know how many cars I own?"Twenty-two of them, I don't tell her, each one a different supercar imported from around the world, several a slim few of their kind. Admittedl

HANNAH POPS THE HOOD, lifting the green metal high above her head. The tractor she works on is a mechanical beast, with wheels the height of her chest and stairs leading up to the driver's seat.I bury my hands in my pockets, balancing on the balls of my heels. I'll admit it. This place is impressive, a true man-cave that must be the dream of most middle-aged men. Metal signs hang high on the walls of the garage, spouting recognizable names like Ford, Coca-Cola and Shell. They appear to be retro, much like a truck in the corner, with its rounded edges and small wheels.Through the windshield, glossy seats stand out in the interior that was clearly refurbished by someone who knew what they were doing. Another car sits beside the truck, cloaked in mystery by a protective sheet draping over it, offering a vague outline of its exterior. The only other clue given is the shiny red paint left uncovered in one spot near a tire.Hannah... the mechanic? I quirk my brow, a smile creeping on my l

THE GUESTHOUSE IS QUAINT, with a partial kitchen connecting to a modest living room. A couch and two recliners surround a grizzly bear rug and a fireplace that even I admit is nice.Why? Let's see... Wooden logs crackle from its cage, smoke funnels out of its long-tubed top, and its flames keep the place perfectly cozy. Oh, and Hannah's in front of it—On her knees.Naked.The evidence of her arousal slides down the inside of her thighs, glistening against the flicker of the flames."Touch yourself."I lean back on the couch, watching her listen to my command from across the room. When her petite hand dips between her folds, I grip my cock. I'm completely free of the clothes I decided not to wear after our shower.Her eyes dance back and forth between mine and my proud erection, lying flat across my lower abdomen, nearly reaching my belly button."Good girl." The praise is thick on my tongue as I stroke myself from base to tip.I bite my lip—hard—watching her flick her clit with her p

HANNAH'S A FUCKING GODDESS.And it's my only intention to worship her.She eyes me softly, the glow of the fireplace shining an orange halo behind her head. Her hands whisper down my body, starting at my chest and working their way along the harsh ridges of my core. She doesn't say a single word, and I can hardly breathe as she studies me.I wonder what she's thinking, what she thinks of me. I wish I could scoop deep inside her consciousness, only to pull out its mysteries.Touching her palms to my chest, she pushes me back into the couch as she lowers herself over my cock. But she doesn't put me in. Her pussy lips wrap around the base, her wetness warm on my skin."Grind on me," I grit out between clenched teeth."Like this?" She leans forward, her slickness sliding along my shaft as her breasts sway a breath away from my face.Fuck..."Yes, like that."She sways backwards, slipping along her way. I rest my head on the back of the couch, unable to watch her any longer. But her soft h