Page 56 of That Kind of Guy

Relief settled in my chest. It was Hannah, and I knew I could trust her. I felt lighter, like my heavy backpack of fake-relationship bullshit had been set down for a few minutes.

“Thank you. Oh,” I remembered, “wedding dress shopping. Can you please come with me? It’s next weekend.”

Her face lit up. “Sure, I’d love to.”

“Okay, good.” I leaned over and gave her a quick hug. “Thanks, Han. You’re the best, you know that?”

We said our goodbyes and I went inside. Moments after I stepped in the door, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Emmett.

???

Yes?I responded.

Just making sure you got home okay.

I stared at the messages with curiosity. Emmett cared about one thing—the election—so him being so concerned about me getting home okay struck me as odd.

And maybe my heart beat a little faster at the thought of him caring about me.

But when I thought about what I had told Hannah in the car—it’s all fake, it’s all for show—I sobered. Besides, Emmett was that kind of guy, the kind of person who asked how everyone was doing, asked about their family members, asked how their work was going. Schmoozey, I reminded myself. Emmett was all up in everyone’s business, and Elizabeth had raised him to be endlessly polite. That’s what he was doing. He was just being polite.

Home safe. Thanks. See you tomorrow,I texted.

Goodnight, Adams.

My mouth twisted with rueful pleasure at the sight of my nickname. His nickname for me. In my bedroom, I plugged my phone in and got undressed for bed. As I pulled my jeans off, the underwear fell out of my pocket and onto the floor.

The decoy underwear. I snorted and picked it up, inspecting it. The fabric was soft silk. The lace was high quality. They looked like my size. I raised an eyebrow. Emmett had put effort into buying these. The image of him looking at underwear online, or explaining to a sales associate in a store what he wanted, flashed into my head and the pressure and heaviness between my legs was back. I dropped the underwear like they were on fire.

I spent about half an hour lying in bed in my dark bedroom, trying to fall asleep and failing. Despite pushing all thoughts of Emmett out of my head, the pressure between my legs lingered. Thoughts of Emmett’s warm mouth, the scrape of his stubble, the firm touch of his fingers lingered. The tension within me lingered, and I groaned in frustration.

I needed to fall asleep, I told myself as my hands slipped into my underwear. Sleep was important, and when I didn’t sleep enough, I was grouchy, I thought as my fingers made contact with my center. I sighed as my fingers slid over my wetness. No one would know that I was thinking about Emmett when I did this. I was totally alone, and no one would know. This was normal. He probably thought about me while he did this. The image of Emmett alone in his bed, stroking his cock while thinking about me, sent a fresh flood of wetness to my folds and I sighed again.

My fingers made quick circles, and within moments, I tipped over the edge with pleasure, eyes wrenched closed and mouth open. I shuddered and whimpered, remembering the way his length pressed into me in the kitchen earlier tonight, the way his mouth scraped my neck, and how the electricity sparked within me. My fingers moved fast, and every ounce of tension was wrung from my body as I came.

When I was done, I sunk into the pillows, catching my breath.

I didn’t feel better. I felt empty, and the needy twitchiness in my limbs lingered. I still wanted more. My mind protested but my body needed Emmett’s mouth, his hands, his length.

We had been spending too much time together. That’s why I was feeling like this. I’d tell Emmett that we needed to walk it back. We’d convinced everyone we were a perfect, happy, devoted couple with our excessive PDA, so we didn’t need to kiss anymore.

Tomorrow. I’d tell Emmett tomorrow.

13

Avery

“What are you doing?”Emmett murmured over my shoulder the next morning as I hammered a nail into the campaign sign in front of the restaurant. When I had arrived ten minutes prior, one of the wooden stakes had split.

He wore a white t-shirt that looked great against his tan, but he probably already knew that, andknowinghe knew that annoyed me. My gaze flicked over the hem of his short sleeve, fitted to his arms but not too tight. I caught a glimpse of his forearms.

I woke up horny this morning, and that made me grumpy.

Focus, I reminded myself.

We had a meeting with the bank in an hour, during which Emmett would sign on the dotted line and the restaurant would be all mine.

Well, not quite. This was just the business loan portion. Keiko and I would meet in a few weeks to sign the paperwork. Today was a big deal, though. After today, I’d be in the home stretch. All I had to do was hold up my end of the bargain to Emmett and play his adoring fiancée.

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