Otherwise Engaged: A Fake Engagement Romance

We cruised down the freeway in a tense cloud of silence while streetlights and headlights passed in a blur. From the passenger side of the car, I scanned Bennett’s face, trying to gauge his level of sobriety. It was difficult to tell—three drinks later, I was more than a little tipsy myself.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” I asked.

Bennett kept his eyes fixed on the road. “I’m fine.”

“But—”

“Unlike you, I’m not the size of Tinkerbell,” he snapped. “I had two drinks over four hours, combined with tons of food. You can breathalyze me if you want. I’m sure you have one in your purse.”

I didn’t, but not the worst idea in the world.

“Fine,” I said, mimicking his snarky tone.

Our conversation fell back into a lull. The only sound was the low whir of the heater, set to full blast from when we first got in. His silk tie, which he’d removed during dinner, now lay coiled neatly in the center console.

I reached over and turned the temperature down a few degrees, though the atmosphere was awfully chilly in the car already. Bennett’s fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel like he was trying to strangle it.

“You seem a little grouchy,” I observed.

“You could say that.” His jaw ticked, cords in his neck tensing, but he didn’t look at me. “Are we supposed to be helping each other or not?”

I blinked at him, wide-eyed with faux innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

“We’re on the same team now, remember?” He stole a glance at me, but his expression didn’t shift.

“A temporary alliance. Only because my enemy’s enemy is my friend.” Despite that, some of those lines were growing awfully blurry. When it came to picking sides in the Bennett-Adam feud, I might have been Team Bennett. Not because I liked him, of course, but because Adam was even worse.

Bennett made a right turn onto my street, slowing down to match the residential speed limit. “Do you throw all your friends under speeding buses? I mean, come on. Ed Sheeran? Pookie?” Beneath his acerbic tone, I detected the tiniest hint of amusement, like the grudging respect you have for a worthy opponent.

I made a failed attempt to hide my smile. “Well, you did say that you wanted them to think we were crazy about each other.”

“I meant crazy in love,” Bennett grumbled. “Not worthy of being committed.”

Maybe I overplayed my hand on that one, but I’d been irked about being blindsided with the Mexico trip—even with his somewhat endearing excuse for not telling me. Trying to make things easier for me, he claimed, but I didn’t fully buy that.

It left me a with a jumble of emotions: irritation with the general situation; guilt for not believing him; and wariness telling me I shouldn’t believe him. Only Bennett could invoke such wildly mixed feelings within me. It was an innate talent of his.

“What can I say?” I smoothed my hair in the reflection of the window and adjusted an errant curl. “If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

Bennett’s body language relaxed and his lips quirked. “Does that policy extend to inside the bedroom?”

Something stirred within me—something I hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever—and I did my best to ignore it.

“Do you make everything sexual?”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” he said. “And yes.”

“It doesn’t extend to anything involving you and your deviant fantasies.”

Bennett might have been acting like he was kidding, but the truth was, he was just trying to get me in bed like he did with all the other women. It was a challenge to him, a potential conquest. Though if we both knew that’s all it was going in…

I crossed my legs, biting the inside of my cheek to quell the sordid line of thought. Laura was right when she said he was a bad influence.

“Not all of my fantasies are deviant. Some are merely kinky. Practically vanilla.”

“Ha. I bet.” I snorted and reached into my purse to retrieve my phone, desperately in need of a distraction. Multiple texts from Quinn and Lola greeted me, both of them inquiring how the night had gone. I would give Lola the real rundown at brunch tomorrow. I hadn’t yet decided how or when to share the news of my ‘engagement’ with everyone else. That was going to require taking my newfound acting skills to a brand-new level.

The ring was gorgeous, though. I mean, if you were into diamonds. Or pretty things in general.

“Want to hear them?” His voice dropped, buttery smooth like suede.

“No.”

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a teeny, tiny bit curious.

“Fine, you can tell me yours instead. I’m a great listener.”

“Negative.” Staring at the screen, I re-read the same line of text four times without comprehending it before giving up. It was impossible to focus with this line of conversation. I locked my phone, tucking it back into my bag. “Like you’re one to talk about being a team player. You didn’t even tell Ian? Way to drop a bomb on him.”

“Trust me,” Bennett said. “It was better this way.”

“Catching Ian completely off guard?”

“If I had told him at work, we would have had a sixty-minute sit-down detailing how you and I got together and every development since.”

Bennett eased his car into the underground parking garage of my building, making a left turn to the visitor parking stalls and pulling into the same one as last time, when he drove me home after the dinner party. We had fallen into this pattern a little too easily. It was unnerving.

In light of the tension—sexual or otherwise—between us, letting him open my door and having him standing, waiting within close proximity felt a little bit like it would be playing with fire. He killed the ignition, and I raced to unbuckle my seatbelt, opening the passenger side door before he could make around it to my side of the vehicle.

My heels echoed against the pavement as his car door slammed behind me. He caught up to me in a few easy strides, evidently walking me to my door like last time. Another potential minefield to navigate. Bennett claimed it was merely good manners and his proper upbringing, whereas I believed it was driven by ulterior motives and a plan to get in my panties.

“You’d better know what you’re doing.” I came to a halt and jabbed the ‘up’ button on the elevator with more force than necessary.

“You manage your people and let me manage mine.”

“Fine,” I said, because I didn’t really have a choice. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the gold-framed mirror mounted on the wall next to us, and a ripple of anxiety hit me. “I hate lying to people.”

I didn’t mean to say it out loud.

“You get used to it.”

“I guess.”

What I wanted to say was, I already lied all the time. Hid feelings I had and faked feelings I didn’t. Didn’t say what I meant and didn’t mean what I said. It wasn’t new to me and this bizarre arrangement.

But that didn’t make me hate it any less.

We lapsed into silence, waiting, and I clasped my hands together, making a concerted effort not to fidget. Several tension-coated seconds later, the elevator doors sprang open, and Bennett followed me inside, stepping out of my way to let me to push the ‘12’ button for my floor. The amount of tension within the elevator car was unparalleled. Electric energy hummed between our two bodies as we stood side by side, ascending the twelve floors. Heat crept up my body, growing with every second that passed. By the time we made it to my front door, I thought I might spontaneously combust.

I should have sent him right back down in that elevator, but I didn’t.

Bennett leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms, leisurely watching me enter the key code. It took three tries before I managed to enter the four-digit sequence properly. Finally, the keypad flashed green and let out an obedient beep, granting me access.

At the same time that I looked back up, Bennett closed the distance between us. He took a step forward, followed by another, steering me around the door and pushing it shut behind him with an ominous click. Darkness surrounded us, and I fumbled behind me for the light switch, bathing the entry in a dim yellow glow.

Our eyes locked, and his expression darkened, turning smoldering. My heart went into overdrive. For a moment, neither of us moved.

Bennett leaned in, and instinctively, I did the same. Our lips met, and a flicker of desire sparked within me in response. He angled his face against mine, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped into my mouth. It wasn’t tentative or questioning. It was bossy and demanding and utterly addictive.

I needed to extinguish this fire before it grew into an inferno. Scraping up what little self-control remained, I placed my fingertips on his shoulders and tore away from the kiss. His grip on my waist loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“I thought you said you were walking me to my door to be a gentleman, not because you wanted sex.”

“Can’t it be both?” His eyes traveled up and down my body, and for a brief, insane moment, I wished it were his hands instead.

I took a step back, hating my traitorous hormonal impulses. “No. Besides, sex is against the rules.”

“We made the rules, which means we can break them if we want to.”

Theoretically true, but the rules were made so I didn’t end up broken.

“Rules are rules,” I said. “And rule number one: no sex.”

Seeing the gigantic glaring loophole, I quickly clarified. “Or, uh—sexual activities. Of any sort. Just like the contract says. Strictly forbidden. All of that stuff. Including kissing.”

“But we just broke that rule.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t seem too clear on how these rules work.”

My brain was crystal clear. My body was murky as mud, working overtime to nullify the contract so I could do all kinds of foolish things. Starting with him.

“Fortunately, I’m clear on the fact that I hate you.”

Bennett prowled closer, barely restrained energy radiating off his body. The corners of his mouth tugged slightly, but the heat in his gaze was a challenge.

“Prove it.”

“Fine,” I said. “I hate—” My breath caught as his fingers dug into my hips, yanking me up against him.

Firm muscle surrounded me, encased in masculine warmth and the distinctive woodsy vanilla of his cologne. He ducked his head and brushed his lips against my collarbone, gliding up the curve of my neck. A shiver ran down my spine, followed by a telltale cascade of goosebumps on my arms.

“Keep talking,” he murmured.

“…how you kiss.” I hate it because it makes the rest of the world fade away. Because it makes me forget it’s you kissing me. Or worse, because I know it’s you, and I never want it to stop.

His voice was a smile against my skin. “Is that why you kissed me back?”

“Shut up, Bennett.” The words came out breathy, strained with lust and lacking any bite.

His left hand traced the side of my throat, sliding up to form a fist at the base of my hairline. He tugged at the roots of my hair, gently angling my face up to his. Liquid heat pooled between my legs in response, and I hated myself for it almost as much as I hated him.

“What else do you hate?” he asked softly.

“Your cologne.”

Bennett’s chest rumbled as he laughed, low and husky. “Now you’re definitely lying.”

“It’s the truth.” I hate that you smell good all the time, even when I wish you didn’t. I hate that I want to bury my nose in the crook of your neck to get a hit. I hate that your scent leaves me lightheaded in your wake.

A sigh escaped my lips as he traced a line of kisses across my jaw, ending below my ear. With one hand protecting my head and the other still around my waist, he stepped forward, backing me up against the wall. Dark hair tumbled over his forehead as he towered over me, bracketing me with his arms.

“Anything else?”

“Too many things to list.”

Bennett lowered his head and our mouths crashed together again. Lips parting, our tongues tangled in a power struggle, greedy and wanting. I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and a low growl emanated from his chest in response. His large, strong hands squeezed my breasts, tugging on the sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of my dress.

Momentum surged as we engaged in a frenzied back-and-forth, neither willing to be the first one to take things further and neither of us wanting to stop. Finally, we came up for air, breathless and lips swollen. My chest moved up and down as I watched him, trying to calm my whirling thoughts.

Bennett, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed.

He ran his hands down the sides of my ribcage, grabbing my hips. His thumbs pressed into my stomach just above my pelvic bone, dangerously close to the throbbing center between my legs. My heart thundered in my ears.

“My turn.”

I glared at him. “I didn’t ask you.”

“Too bad.” Bennett splayed his long fingers, sliding his hands back to cup my behind. “I hate those pencil skirts you always wear.” He squeezed, his grip firm and demanding. I stifled a gasp as a rush of desire rippled through my body. “They make me want to hike them up and bend you over the nearest table. It’s fucking torture.”

“Torture suits you,” I whispered. “Remind me to wear them more often.”

“And that brings us to the next issue.” His midnight blue eyes traveled down my face, slow and languorous, coming to focus on my lips. Reflexively, I licked my bottom lip and his pupils dilated. “Your smart mouth.”

“You wish you could have my mouth.”

“Absolutely.” His lips tugged into a smile, eyes snapping back up to mine. “I’m sure you know what else is on that list.”

He wedged a knee between my legs, pressing against me. A tiny moan escaped the back of my throat as he leaned in, hitting the perfect spot. I wasn’t sure what it said about me, but in that moment, I’d let him have any part of me he wanted.

“Turn’s over.” I arched my back, grinding my pelvis against him. He bit his bottom lip, sucking in a ragged breath. “I hate how your body feels pressed up against mine.”

Bennett leaned closer, lips barely brushing my ear. A tingle ran down my spine. “Because you know I would feel even better inside you.”

God help me, I wanted to find out. I really did.

“False,” I lied, scrambling to keep my mental footing. “I hate… when you touch me.” Because I don’t want you to stop.

His gaze pinned me, and a smirk played on his edible mouth. “We both know that isn’t true.”

Bennett slowly slid a hand down my hip and under my dress, hiking up the fabric. His eyes stayed fixed to mine as he traced a line along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, drawing closer and closer to between my legs. My breath snagged, willpower waning.

“Should I stop? I mean, since you hate it so much.”

Silently, I shook my head no.

“You like this, don’t you, Thayer?”

I gripped his bicep, nearly trembling in response to his touch. “Maybe.”

In truth, I liked it a little too much, and hated myself more than him for it. Most of the time, I had to take matters into my own hands—literally—with other guys. But right now, I was already halfway there, and we were hardly even doing anything. Bennett’s psychological foreplay game was strong, I’d give him that.

His brow cocked. “Maybe?” He withdrew his hand, and I fought the overwhelming urge to protest. “It’s a yes or no question.”

“I’m not going to beg.”

“Neither am I.” Bennett readjusted my dress, gently pulling it back down. He reached up, caressing my lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “But the good news is, I’m very patient.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. “See you next weekend.” Releasing me, he turned and tugged the door open, letting it fall closed behind him.

Once it clicked all the way shut, I leaned against the wall behind me, letting out a frustrated sigh.

I didn’t know how much longer I could keep Bennett at arm’s length, and I didn’t know what was going to happen if I couldn’t.