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keiscait · 4 years ago

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Hi! I just wanted to say from the match-ups I have seen that you are such a great writer! If it’s not too much I was wondering if I could get a living room and bedroom matchup for a male character. If both are too much, feel free to do one whichever one you feel like you can write better. I wanna do this anon so the emoji you can use for me is: <33

Info:

Pronouns: She/Hers

Personality: I am a very goal orientated person and I can become very hard on myself sometimes if I don’t achieve things as well as I wanted to. I tend to be quiet but not shy per say. I do not have trouble talking to people and making friends and I can become very outgoing but in the friend group itself I usually keep to myself. If I am comfortable with you I will make witty remarks and make fun of you in a playful friend banter kinda way but I would like to say I am a good listener so I can get serious real quick. I am really big on trust and I used to trust too easily and now I am a bit more closed off where it is a bit harder for me to trust others.

Relationships: When it comes to relationships, I believe in communication and I haven’t had a big problem with it in the past. I wouldn’t mind a small pda such as hand holding or a small kiss here and there but nothing over the top because you gotta keep the important stuff private ya know. My love language is quality time because I tend to be really busy once school starts and so making effort to see each other even through our busy schedules is really important to keep the relationship healthy.

Hobbies: I believe that you need a good balance between work and play though so some other hobbies I have are painting (acrylic and watercolor), baking, and skateboarding. I also listen to music everyday and watch like an episode before I go to sleep if I have school but binge watch on break. I also try to game a bit too like league, minecraft, and my switch. I also like hiking and runs in the mornings before class because it really clears my head and I used to be on the swim team but I don’t competitively do it anymore.

Bedroom: I believe I would be a switch that leans more submissive. However, I am really cautious to do anything because I need to trust them to be submissive. I would consider myself very open to different kinks and what not and aftercare is a must. I’m not super into degrading because I’m sensitive af. I just would want someone who is observant with me and my body as well as someone who helps me with my insecurities. Once I’m comfortable though I definitely become a brat. Just want someone who would manhandle but still tell me i’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever met hahaha.

Zodiac: Pisces (sun), Cancer (rising), and Leo (moon)

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

Future Plans/ Dreams: I am working to become a biomedical engineer one day to help make medical devices to help people. Right now I am leaning towards possibly doing physical therapy and making prosthetics.

Looks: I’m 5’6/5’7 and have a medium build. I am tan kinda like a honey color with black wavy/slightly curly hair that is about at my breast length. My eyes are hazel but mainly light brown and I have pretty big doe like eyes.

Sorry if it’s too much or too little but thank you so much! and I have such respect for writers so keep being you :) HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND STAY SAFE

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Hello and welcome, my darling! So sorry for the long wait, and thank you SO MUCH for your kind words! (⌒‿⌒)❤️ Let’s get right to it then! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

I was reading your description, and I think the person I had in mind for you also fits your bedroom matchup!

Our lovely guest keeping us company in both rooms is...

(Runner up: Ushijima Wakatoshi)

Kageyama is a very complex character. He’s one of the few characters ever who we actually see slips back into his old bad habits every now and then, but is immediately remorseful and shows signs of him knowing better. He’s always striving for progress, and he understands more than others what it’s like to dislike your past self.

- Tobio here is somehow both incredibly observant yet so fricking DENSE

- I imagine that however it is that you two meet, he’ll be super formal at first. It’ll take a little while for a romance to build because he’s not used to opening up, and he’ll need to really trust the person for him to let his walls down

- however, as soon as you guys establish a friendship, he’d be drawn to you and how goal-oriented you are, especially since he is, too

- He’d take interest in you, notice all your little quirks, and would even find himself blushing whenever you playfully tease him

- Problem is, he has no fucking clue why HAHAH

- I love him sm but boy doesn’t know what it is to like someone

- Hinata would try to explain it to him and he’d just be like cr- cru--... c-CRUSH?? ...what is that?

- Man is in desperate need of wingman someone help him

- Anyway, once his friends get Operation: Get Tobio A Girlfriend in motion, he just turns into his pouty blushy self whenever he sees you

- The other boys will probably go overboard that he’ll be forced to take matters into his own hands

- The confession would be a damn mess but in an adorable way

- He’d 100% yell his feelings at you while pouting/blushing

- You’d have to shush him TBH

- shush him with a kiss maybe? that’s a great way to shut him up ( 　･ิω･ิ)

- Kageyama_Tobio.exe stopped responding

- anyway I think he’d just be such a soft, protective boyfriend, especially since you’re kind of quiet

- You two would understand each other so well. He’d protect you and your quiet side, while you would help him be more relatable in order to make friends. It’s also perfect that you two are both goal-oriented, because then you’d be on the same page when it comes to co-dependence/independence. One would understand the other when it comes to pressure, deadlines, and hard work, and you’d just be super supportive of each other all the time

- I think you’re better at communicating than he is, so you may have to inform him a bit on how it should work between the two of you. He’d pick up on this really fast tho so no need to worry! Kags has got you ;)

- Dates would be really productive ones. Study dates, work dates, workout dates; anything that would be beneficial to your improvement

- Early morning hikes with Kags :’( beautiful

- He really appreciates that you’re not big on PDA because that puts a lot less pressure on himself to be someone he’s not. PLUS I imagine he’s the same as you, who really treasures the private moments between the two of you because you’re both so busy

- Once you guys have some private time, he’d take it as an opportunity to release all his pent up energy and emotions. He’d be so needy and clingy when he knows others can’t see

- ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ) also u kno whassup when you guys finally get some private time ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ)( 　･ิω･ิ)

- I don’t think Kags is the very kinky type. He’d be a dom, but I don’t think the freaky stuff would really appeal to him, especially if it’s degradation, since the man worships you?? He’s just like... why tho

- He may get into some stuff that emphasizes his strength, mostly how he grabs you and handles your body

- Picks up on your sweet spots really quick, and I imagine he can even deduce which parts are sensitive without you having to tell him

- Apologizes if he ever makes you uncomfortable :’( he’d just be SO tender and protective

- I don’t think he knows what aftercare is, or like the specifics of it, but I think despite that, he’d just naturally want to take care of you and check in on you afterwards. He’d ask if you’re okay, if you need anything, if you’re feeling any kind of pain, if there’s anything he can improve on. And he’d definitely scan your body for any bruises.

You were walking home from an exhausting day at work.

There were more than a few setbacks today - an annoying coworker took credit for your hard work, your precisely detailed schedule wasn’t honored by others, and because of this, you weren’t able to have lunch. It was now 6:30PM. The rain poured as you waited at the bus stop. You were famished, soaked, and, quite frankly, so done with this day.

You sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. You were so out of it today that you haven’t had the chance to check on your unread messages. Your boyfriend, Tobio, had left a few missed calls over the past hour, causing some worry. He didn’t usually call, given how busy he was all the time. You texted him first to check in.

You: Everything okay, bub?

K: Yes. Sorry about all the missed calls. Where are you right now?

Y: At the bus stop near my building. Why?

K: Which one?

K: Never mind. I see you

What? You whipped your head left and right, then saw your boyfriend’s figure standing a few meters away, umbrella in hand. He was truly a sight for sore eyes right now - he wasn’t wearing anything special, juts his usual tracksuit, but he was wrapped in a scarf and held a soft expression on his face. It was just the warmth you needed right now. He jogged over to you, closing the umbrella as he made it under the roof.

“Hi love,” you started, “what on earth are you doing here?” A huge weight seems to have been lifted off of you.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, rubbing your body to give extra warmth. Pulling back, he took off his scarf so that he could wrap it around your neck.

“It’s been raining all day but I noticed you left your umbrella at home. I was hoping to catch you before you left work so that you don’t have to walk in the rain.” You couldn’t help the smile that was erupting through the exhaustion. This felt like an all new Tobio. “I guess I was a little too late, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it. Thank you for thinking of me, bub.” You allowed yourself to slump onto him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You felt him loosen up, strong arms making their way around your form. You looked up at him without pulling away. Your big doe eyes stared into his blue ones, totally sinking into each other’s gaze. He planted a small kiss onto your nose. It wasn’t normal for you to be so affectionate outdoors, but right now, it seemed apt. You scrunched up your nose in response.

Had it not been for the honking of the bus, the two of you could’ve cuddled in the rain for much longer, ridding each other of the lousiness of the day.

I hope that was alright with you, darling! Thank you so much for trusting me with your matchup. Hope you’re having a wonderful new year so far!! Please don’t hesitate to sit and have a chat with me anytime ❤️

Thanks for stopping by! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

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justalittlebluetiefling · 7 years ago

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Chapter 50: Sometimes I Can’t See Myself

Rating: T Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellamy x Clarke Chapter: 50/68 Word Count: 2636 Words

Chapter Summary: The one where Clarke makes an unpleasant discovery.

A/N: Okay, damn, this was literally the hardest chapter to write. I’m still not 100% happy with it, but I cut it in half so I could at least get an update in. No cliffhanger, I swear. Anyway, I can’t wait to be done with the next chapter. It shouldn’t take me as long to get the next update out, at least. And then this disastrous portion will be behind us. Sorry for the lack of Bellamy here. He’s all over the next one, I promise.

Also on AO3; Start from the beginning on AO3

The first day Clarke didn’t hear from Lexa, she wanted to assume she was busy. It was easier to assume that she was busy than to think that she was being ignored.

The second day, she was angry.

The third day, she was a little worried. She was tempted to ask Lincoln if he knew what was going on, but she didn’t want to put him in the middle of things. Instead, she decided to pretend that there wasn’t anything wrong.

On the fourth night, she cried herself to sleep and wondered what could be so wrong with her that someone would just disappear without saying anything.

The fifth day, Monty bought her a mocha with extra whip and caramel drizzle between classes. When he handed it over, he didn’t even tease her about the grotesque amount of sugar in her drink. It was clear that she wasn’t doing a a great job at fooling her friends.

She skipped her classes on day six, because she had slept so poorly the night before.

By the time a week had gone by, Clarke discovered that anger almost functioned as well as caffeine to get her through the day. If she let herself be angry, it gave her a little boost. Not enough to make it through the day, but enough to make a decision. She was done texting, done calling, done moping. She was just angry. Anger is what drove her to Lexa’s apartment to pound on the door until she got an answer.

No one answered, so she sat down on the floor to wait. While she waited, she pulled out her study guide for the MCATs to run over some more questions. The test was in three weeks and Clarke’s current stress levels hadn’t been great for her study schedule. It was a way to pass time until Lexa got home, but time still dragged.

And dragged.

It had been almost an hour when she heard Lexa’s voice coming up the stairs in the form of a hushed argument. Sudden, overwhelming panic made Clarke feel sick to her stomach as Lexa appeared at the top of the stairs, flattened cardboard boxes tucked under her arm. Lexa stopped in her tracks at the sight of Clarke and a startled Lincoln almost slammed into her back.

Clarke took a deep breath and clenched her fists so tight her nails dug into her palms. She barely recognized her own voice through the strain. “We need to talk.”

To her credit, Lexa looked mildly panicked for about thirty seconds. Of course, one of her frustrating qualities was the handle she had on her emotions, but Clarke felt a little victorious that it appeared to take an effort to get them under control. “I was planning on calling you in a couple days to talk.”

Lincoln scoffed, startling Clarke and Lexa both. “Well, she’s here now, so you can fucking talk.” He took the boxes from Lexa and let himself into her apartment. On his way in, he shot Clarke an apologetic look. She wondered how long he had known about whatever was going on. She wondered what they had been arguing about on their walk up the stairs.

The silence stretched painfully after he was gone. Lexa maintained eye contact, but her jaw was set.

Clarke broke first. “What the fuck are the boxes for?”

“I got the opportunity to live in Florence next year. My advisor arranged it so I can finish the year there. I couldn’t turn it down.”

“You couldn’t… couldn’t turn it down?” It was hard not to choke on her words. Any thought of standing to try to be on more even ground vanished half-formed. Clarke was sure she couldn’t stand if she needed to. “So you decided to what? Pack up and leave without saying goodbye?”

“I told you, I was going to call you in a couple of days.”

“Were you planning on calling while the plane was taxing down the runway? ‘Oh, hey, Clarke. On my way to Rome. Peace?’”

Lexa had the decency to look ashamed, but her tone was still harsh. “Don’t be like that, Clarke.”

“Be like what? Pissed off that my girlfriend is apparently moving halfway around the world without telling me? Of fucking course I’m going to be like this. What did you expect?”

Lexa sighed and sat down on the floor, motioning to the ground next to her. Clarke glared and crossed her arms. No way was she going to sit next to her and let Lexa try to talk her way out of it. It felt like she had a better chance at staying strong if she stood, so she finally forced herself up. When Lexa realized Clarke wasn’t going to move, she sighed again and leaned back.

“How would you have preferred I handle this?”

“You could have called or come over or anything! We could have sat down and talked this out like adults.”

“Should we be sitting to talk this out like adults? Because you’re standing now.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Just tell me how long you’ve known about this.”

“I’ve known about the opportunity since before we started dating.”

“Did you apply for it right away?”

“No. I almost missed the deadline, actually. I didn’t want to put the strain on a new relationship.”

“And this isn’t strain on a ‘new’ relationship?!” She used air quotes, because their relationship wasn’t new. Not anymore.

Lexa shrugged. “I decided that I needed to look out for myself. I was being weak by trying to factor you into my decisions this early in the relationship. Especially when you’re not ready to make such a strong commitment.”

Clarke’s jaw dropped. It was impossible to fully absorb what Lexa said. “I don’t… what are you talking about? When did I ever give you the impression that I wasn’t willing to commit to you? You didn’t even give me a chance to fix whatever you think is wrong.”

“I gave you plenty of chances. I told you what I needed to feel secure in our relationship and you blatantly disregarded it multiple times.”

The ‘Bellamy’ of it all hit her like a ton of bricks. “Please tell me you’re not moving to a different continent to punish me because you don’t like my best friend.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I’d word it that way.”

Clarke took a step back into the wall behind her, shocked at how far Lexa was going to try to prove a point. “Well, then how would you word it?”

Lexa stood, walked over to her, and ran her thumb along Clarke’s cheek. She smiled sadly. “I can be second or third or fourth place behind school or work or maybe even family, but I can’t be behind him. It’s not fair to me. It’s not fair to either of you.”

They stood there in silence for a moment as Clarke once again attempted to absorb what was happening. She didn’t know if she should push Lexa’s hand away or try to beg, because both seemed valid to her in the moment. Lexa had never been patient, though.

“I need to keep packing, Clarke. You can stay, but it would probably be better if you go.”

Clarke frowned and took a few steps toward the stairs before turning back. Lexa was still watching her. “We could have tried long distance, you know. I thought you were worth it.”

“It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Why?”

“If you don’t understand now, I hope you do someday.” Lexa went inside her apartment and didn’t look back.

Lincoln 2:32pm Lexa’s moving to Italy.

Octavia 2:33pm EXCUSE ME WHAT?

Lincoln 2:35pm I went to her place today to talk to her and ended up taking her to the store for more boxes. She’s moving to Italy for her first year of grad school.

Octavia 2:37pm Clarke hasn’t mentioned this to me at all What the hell?

Lincoln 2:38pm Pretty sure Clarke didn’t know. When we got back with the boxes, Clarke was sitting outside her apartment. L’s trying to hide the fact that she’s crying while she boxes up her books. I think she just broke up with Clarke.

Octavia 2:41pm Hey, I love you, but maybe fucking lead with that next time.

Lincoln 2:42pm Noted. Tell me how she’s doing when you get home, okay? By the time I got out there, she was already gone.

Octavia 2:43pm I’ll be home in 20 I’ll text you as soon as I can

By the time Octavia got home, Clarke was basically a pile of blankets on the couch. The pile didn’t even move when the door shut, but O could see Clarke’s toes sticking out and what appeared to be an eyehole at the other end.

“You’re being really nice and what I’m about to say is going to make you hate me.”

“Okay, then I’ll just open the box for you.”

Octavia didn’t need to look at the TV to recognize Parks and Rec. She set her bag on the ground and pulled off her jazz shoes before she called across the room. “Why are you starting at season four?” She thought she did a great job at sounding casual.

“I just needed to, okay?” Clarke’s voice was muffled and a little broken.

“Is it okay if I watch with you?”

“If you want. I thought you had practice tonight.”

Octavia was supposed to go to practice, but she hardly ever skipped. This was definitely an emergency and she didn’t want to leave Clarke alone. She walked over to the couch and stood next to Clarke’s head. “I’m not feeling too great,” she lied. “I think I’m going to stay home.”

The blankets shifted, the episode paused, and Clarke poked her head out to study Octavia. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she had stern doctor face on. “Do you have a fever? I can go get you some soup. Do you want Mucinex? Nyquil? Tums?”

“No, no, no.” Octavia climbed onto the couch and hugged Clarke as best as she could through the blankets. “I’m mostly worried you’re not feeling well. You’re usually studying your face off right now, not binging TV. Not that I’m complaining. I want to hang out, just in case.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t need to.”

Octavia rolled her eyes and started searching through the blankets. “Where’s the controller? You really think I’m going to practice when Ben and Leslie are breaking up? You know I can’t see this episode without binging straight through to episode eight. Maybe episode nine.”

Clarke muttered something under her breath about Lincoln, but O didn’t hear enough and just stared at the TV expectantly. The episode eventually started up again and Clarke leaned her head against Octavia’s shoulder.

Octavia 4:45pm do you know why they broke up? clarke has confirmed the event but won’t talk about the circumstances i can’t tell if she’s more mad or sad

Lincoln 4:57pm Is she okay? Lexa isn’t being very forthcoming.

Octavia 5:00pm well the whole thing is fucked up i don’t know if i even care why i mean i do because clarke’s a badass and lexa’s an idiot 5:05pm sorry i mean i do mean that but i know she’s your friend

Lincoln 5:07pm Don’t worry about it. I’m fucking pissed too. Lexa’s been hurt a lot though. I don’t think she was fully over her last breakup.

Octavia 5:09pm Well that’s bullshit why would she start a new relationship? clarke is way better than a rebound

Lincoln 5:15pm I know. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have introduced them.

Octavia 5:17pm you can’t blame yourself for this blame your bff she’s an adult and knew what she was doing

Lincoln 5:18pm You didn’t answer my question, by the way. Is Clarke okay?

Octavia 5:21pm I don’t really know. we’re watching season 4 parks and rec she’s not crying but she’s staring at the screen and won’t talk anymore

Lincoln 7:14pm I have a theory about the breakup. But you can’t freak out if I tell you.

Octavia 7:16pm You know I can’t promise that.

Lincoln 7:17pm Well at least promise that you won’t jump all over Clarke about it.

Octavia 7:18pm Fuck the things i do for love this is bullshit tell me

Lincoln 7:20pm Okay, so you know they’ve been fighting.

Octavia 7:21pm duh

Lincoln 7:23pm Not helpful. I’m rolling my eyes at you. What was always the main factor in their fights?

Octavia 7:26pm no way no just no that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard

Lincoln 7:29pm You really think it’s that farfetched? Lexa’s pretty insecure. Why would it be weird for her to be jealous of Bellamy?

Octavia 7:31pm okay you know i used to think there was something there i thought it for a long time but clarke started dating lexa and bell started dating gina who is amazing btw i was wrong it’s okay to be wrong sometimes it’s the way odds work despite what you say i am not perfect all the time

Lincoln 7:34pm Stop making me laugh. It’s pissing Lexa off. But you know I used to be jealous of Clarke, right?

Octavia 7:35pm wow okay even through texts you’re the worst liar you two immediately bonded

Lincoln 7:38pm Not true. I liked her, yeah. She was the most welcoming out of everyone. But she’s your best friend. She still knows things about you that I don’t. It’s the same thing. And you’re not the only one who thought something was there. Their friendship has always seemed a little romantic. Raven and Jasper never shut up about it. Especially when he was sleeping over all the time. He was still sleeping there a couple nights a week when she started dating Lexa. He didn’t stop until after she introduced Lexa to everyone. It’s why they never got along. Side note, can you tell them to remove me from the fucking group text?

Octavia 7:45pm still don’t buy it we knew he was still there they weren’t fucking and lexa never knew he was sleeping over, did she? also i asked them to a couple times jasper says no because he wants you to feel included

Lincoln 7:48pm I mentioned it to her once. Way before they met. I don’t know if she ever connected the dots. But she’s not stupid. I’d be surprised if she didn’t. Wait… can’t you remove me from the group? You’re the one who made it.

Octavia 7:50pm i don’t know what you’re talking about at least jasper’s been quieter since they started dating people can’t we call it a victory? and if you don’t know if she knew bell was sleeping over i still don’t buy it there were other reasons for them to break up because i love you i refuse to extrapolate

Lincoln 7:52pm Thanks, I think?

Octavia 9:48pm Wow. I honestly can’t believe Lexa dumped Clarke because she’s jealous of my stupid brother

Lincoln 9:50pm What changed your mind?

Octavia 9:51pm Clarke just told me on her own, I promise i didn’t even ask they’ve literally been fighting about him for three months are you still at her place?

Lincoln 9:54pm I’m getting ready to go home. Why? Want me to call you?

Octavia 9:55pm No. I want you to stab her.

Lincoln 9:55pm You’re terrifying sometimes.

Octavia 9:56pm All the time. And come on. Just a little bit?

Lincoln 9:57pm No stabbing. How do you stab someone just a little bit?

Octavia 9:58pm Ugh, you’re no fun. I just want to defend Clarke’s honor.

Lincoln 9:59pm All over it babe. I promise. WITHOUT STABBING.

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke #modern au #sometimes i can't see myself #my work #erin writes

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anavoliselenu · 8 years ago

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Hiched chapter 1

Prologue

Justin

“Another beer?” my best friend Sterling asks.

“I better not.”

He smirks. “So you’re really going to go through with it, huh, mate?”

“What’s the big deal? You took a fake date to prom.”

I chuckle to myself, remembering the year Sterling took his cousin to the dance. He thought it was genius at the time—no corsage to buy, no need to impress her with a fancy restaurant or limo ride. Until the end of the night, when all the rest of us were enjoying some skin-to-skin contact with our dates, and he realized what a horrible decision he’d made. The only skin-to-skin action he got was with his hand.

“A fake wife is a hell of a lot different. It’s a big fucking deal.” Sterling glares at me over the rim of his beer.

Looking out over the ocean from our spot on the porch of the beach cottage, I loosen my tie, which has grown too tight around my neck, and level him with a dark stare.

“Actually, it’s legally binding, so she’ll be my real wife. Until we got divorced, or got the marriage annulled or whatever.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is insane. You can’t marry some chick you don’t even like.”

“Who says I don’t like her?”

His eyes widen. “I’m not talking about the unrequited lust-fueled crush you’ve had on her since you were a horny teenager.”

I rub the back of my neck, feeling the stirrings of a headache. “What do you expect me to do? It’s part of my father’s will. This is my—no, our condition for taking over the company. No marriage means no inheritance, period. For either of us.”

Some people may say that being thrust into such luxury from the start makes you immune to it all, but that’s not true. I’ve never taken a single day of it for granted, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to give it up without a fight.

Sterling releases a loud sigh, and his gaze follows mine out to the water beyond. “I just think you should really think this through, man. Marriage is a big deal. It’s not something to be entered into lightly.”

Between the two of us, Sterling’s always been the voice of reason. For every brazen and rash idea I’ve had, every time I’ve jumped into the deep end without thinking, he’s helped steer me back onto the straight-and-narrow path. He’s been my best friend since we were fourteen. As the two new kids at a prestigious boarding school in Connecticut, we became inseparable.

“Trust me when I tell you I understand the gravity of the situation.”

My father’s death last year was a huge wake-up call. The fate of his $100 billion company suddenly dropped straight into my hands. I had to be ready to take over. And I am—I’ll do whatever it takes. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that my bride-to-be is the woman I’ve always wanted.

“There has to be another way,” Sterling says after taking a sip of his beer. “Besides, with your wandering eye and perpetually hard dick, you’d make a terrible husband.”

Ouch. I’m not that bad, am I?

He’s lecturing me about something, but all I can focus on is the tumultuous waves and the uneasy feelings stirring inside me.

“Oh, one more thing,” I say, turning toward him. “I need to knock her up.”

Sterling spits out his drink.

Chapter One

Justin

One Month Earlier

I clench my teeth and check my Rolex for the third time. This entire thing is a huge waste of time.

“Where is she?” I cast a glance at Selena’s father, Fred Cane, who’s seated at the head of the long conference room table.

“She’ll be here,” he assures me. Then, under his breath, he adds, “She’s got to.”

My sentiments exactly.

This meeting is a last-ditch effort to try to convince Selena to sign the contract. But I’m worried today will just be a repeat of last week. She flat-out refused to sign anything that put the two of us together in the same sentence—and said hell no.

Actually, it might have been said with more gusto. I think there was even an f-bomb involved.

But we need to get hitched before ownership of Tate & Cane Enterprises can transfer to us. And with the board of directors’ deadline looming, we need to do it yesterday. I’m not losing the $100 billion company that my father built because the ice queen won’t play nice.

I make a fat six-figure income, enjoy the finest indulgences money can buy, and I know damn well I live the good life. Just because I don’t take it for granted doesn’t mean I don’t take advantage.

Free upgrades at all the best hotels? Absolutely. The finest champagne delivered to my table, courtesy of the sommelier? Why not? The lifeguard at our country club letting me bend her over in the locker room all summer? Sure. The pretty blond hostess at La Chample who wants to blow me in the bathroom before my business dinner? Hell yeah. Being wealthy and attractive has its perks.

But if Selena doesn’t show up today, and if we can’t agree on the terms of this contract, my wealth stands to suffer immensely. As do the jobs and lives of the six thousand employees of Tate & Cane, including one of my favorite people on the planet, Rosita Hernandez. She’s a single mom to six kids. And if this deal goes south, I can only imagine what would happen to someone like Rosita. Christ, I’d probably end up moving her and the kids into my penthouse. Which would obviously put a huge cramp in the aforementioned blow jobs and champagne I regularly enjoy.

I shudder at the thought.

“I know it’s unconventional, that the contract is . . .” Fred pauses and frowns. He drums his fingers on the table, looking sheepish.

Unconventional? To say the fucking least. If the situation weren’t so grim, I might laugh.

He and my father drew up their wills years ago, outlining what would happen to their multibillion-dollar baby should they kick the bucket. The daunting stack of papers in front of me spells out in full legal jargon that Selena and I are to inherit the company with joint fifty-fifty ownership . . . but only if we’re legally wed.

With Fred’s failing health and the company itself suffering six consecutive quarters in the red, an emergency meeting was called last week. Selena and I were presented with our options.

In my view, there were no options. There was just the right thing to do. We had to marry to save not only our own jobs, but our fathers’ legacies and the jobs of six thousand people in offices in Manhattan, Chicago, San Diego, and Brussels.

Selena felt differently. She didn’t relish the idea of being tied to me, and insisted there had to be another way.

Even if we do manage to persuade her to tie the knot, there’s no way Selena would be getting anywhere near my bed. Damn shame.

We came close once . . . just once. Back when she was a drunk college co-ed on spring break.

Her family was staying with mine in a beach house on Puget Sound. We’d escaped the East Coast for the West that summer. Whale watching and hiking trips in the salty sea air and evenings spent eating lobster and drinking chardonnay like we were real adults and not nineteen-year-olds with stars in our eyes.

She snuck out of the bunk bed in the room she was sharing with her sister, Rachel, and into my bedroom that night. And when she crawled in beside me and laid her warm palm against my bare chest, I was a goner. I’ve always wanted Selena. Always desired her, from before I even knew what those strange feelings were in my gut, my chest. We kissed in the darkness, our tongues exploring, hands groping, hearts beating wildly.

But then reality slammed into me. There were a lot of reasons I told her no that night. Her mom had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and I knew Selena would regret using me to cope. Plus, I knew from a recent game of Truth or Dare that she was still a virgin.

So I kissed her a final time and then sent her away. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

And now she treats me as if I were a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of those Louboutin heels she favors.

“I really think this is for the best,” Fred adds, pulling me back to the present.

“It’s what your father wanted, Justin,” Prescott says. Before my father’s death, Prescott was his most trusted advisor. He’s also a total fucking douche bag.

Just then, the conference room door flies open, and I know it’s her before I even look up from the contract.

A fresh floral scent with crisp notes of honeysuckle greets me. I have no idea where Selena gets that shit, but it makes my mouth water. It always has. I once spent an entire Saturday at the fragrance counter of a department store trying to figure it out, trying to prove that it was just some manufactured, bottled version of attraction, that it wasn’t something special to her. I never found it.

“I’m here,” Selena says, slightly breathless.

I look up just in time to be treated to the sight of her smoothing her dress shirt over her curves. Lush breasts and a flat stomach leading to full hips. Her jacket is slung over her arm, as is her tan leather briefcase, monogrammed with her initials in black cursive stitching.

“Miss Cane,” I say cheerfully. “You look exceptionally refreshed this morning.”

She likes to exercise in the morning before work, says it gives her the mental agility to stay focused on business for the sixteen-hour days she’s known to plow through. I like that it gives her cheeks a rosy glow . . . much like I’d guess sex would. Just the thought makes my cock twitch in my dress slacks.

“Save it, Justin. This is purely business,” she says, blinking at me with those lush, dark lashes.

No smile. No laughter. The opposite of the usual reaction I evoke from the fairer sex. And that annoys the shit out of me.

It’s as if Selena Cane alone possesses an antidote to my charm. And that only makes me want to watch her surrender to me that much more. The idea of her on her knees, pink lips parted, taking my cock deep down her throat, begging for more even as she gags on my impressive length, is more than just a sexual turn-on. It’s practically a life goal. To me, sex is a competitive sport. I know the rules, I play hard, and I always win.

Realizing they’re all still watching me, I take a deep breath, trying to force my cock to behave himself, and hold up my hands. She’s never taken one ounce of my shit, and I respect the hell out of her for that.

“I’m just trying to do what’s best here.”

She lets out a soft sigh of exasperation and sets her bag on the table. “Let’s get on with this.”

Her father pats the back of her hand. “Sit down, honey.”

She obeys, poised even in defeat, lowering herself into the seat with the confidence that was bred into her from birth. Preston slides a copy of the contract over to her, and she leafs through it with disinterest.

“I just don’t see why there has to be a marriage clause in the will.”

The woman has a point. My guess? Because our fathers have always wanted to play matchmaker when it came to us. They’ve paired us together since we were in diapers. Hell, we even have an old photo of us in full wedding apparel at a fake wedding from some twenty years ago.

“I’ve explained this, darling. It’s the only way we keep the company in the family. I thought that’s what you wanted . . . a chance to run this place someday.”

“I do, Dad,” she says softly. Then her eyes lift to mine. “I just didn’t think I’d be forced into something like this.”

“No one’s forcing you,” I say, keeping my tone light as I lace my fingers behind my head. “The choice is yours, Selena. I already told you, I’m game.”

She chews on her red lacquered thumbnail for just a second before folding her hands in her lap and shooting me an icy glare. “I’m quite aware of your position.”

Hell, at least she’s willing to hear us all out again. I know that deep down, she understands our fathers’ rationale. We’re stronger together. Our families built this company together. Neither of us can afford to buy the other out, so it needs to stay jointly fifty-fifty within the family. For now.

But for me, it’s about more than just money. Selena and I grew up together; our parents always envisioned us ending up together. I always knew she’d be somewhere in my future, even if it was just working side by side, with her busting my balls every chance she got. It was something I looked forward to.

Fred continued. “Trust and loyalty are the most important things in business. We can’t go getting into bed with someone we don’t know. We have to keep all of this in this room. Just between family.”

Selena sighs, giving him a skeptical look. “I’ll think about it.”

At least it wasn’t a flat no this time, even if her tone is still sour.

Prescott lets out an annoyed huff. “We’ll meet again on Thursday.”

She stuffs the contract in her bag and rises from the table, seemingly in a hurry to escape. “Until then.”

“Thank you for keeping an open mind,” her father says. “These things have a way of working themselves out in ways you can’t anticipate.”

I accept Fred and Prescott’s good-bye handshakes. When Selena’s turn comes, she thrusts her hand at me, clearly wanting to just get this over with . . . and I have a flash of wicked inspiration. Maybe I should shake things up. Test how thick her icy shell really is.

Holding her gaze, I raise her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “A pleasure doing business with you . . . Mrs. Tate,” I tease in a husky voice, letting my lips graze her knuckles.

Her eyes widen and she sucks in her breath. Is it my imagination, or do her cheeks look a little pinker than before? But before I can be sure, her expression hardens into a death glare.

Snatching back her hand, she snaps, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t agreed to marry you yet, and even if I do, I’m never taking your last name.”

And then she’s gone, leaving me standing there with a stupid grin on my face.

“I’ve seen that look before,” Fred says with a small smile. “You’re in trouble, son.”

I laugh off his warning. There’s no way Selena Cane will ever have me wrapped around her finger.

Yet her unique sweetness lingers in my nostrils. She must have dabbed that intoxicating scent on her wrist, so close to my nose when I kissed her hand. I can still feel her soft, smooth skin on my lips. Such a small intimacy—just brushing her as I spoke—shouldn’t have spread this tingle over me. But there’s no denying that this room has become a few degrees too warm.

This is going to be interesting. Hell, it may even be fun.

Chapter Two

Selena

Camryn almost spills her pear mojito and gasps. “You have to do what? With who?”

Nodding grimly, I take a fortifying gulp of sangria. Just explaining this whole harrowing situation makes me feel like I’m going crazy.

We’re eating lunch at a table for two at Banderilla, our favorite tapas bar in all of Manhattan. This restaurant has been our go-to hangout spot since we were college roommates.

We’ve talked over countless decisions here. Whether I should break up with my shitty first boyfriend (I did), whether Camryn should give her anal virginity to her wannabe musician boyfriend (she did), if we should get matching friendship tattoos (I chickened out), whether she should accept Tate & Cane’s job offer after the internship I hooked her up with (she did).

But this decision is probably the biggest of my life. I need my best friend’s coolheaded advice now more than ever.

Camryn heaves a sympathetic sigh. “Jesus. I knew the company wasn’t doing so hot, but I had no idea just how much trouble we were in.”

“Yeah, turns out we should have invested more in social media.”

Like all the other big marketing firms. Dad had stuck to his guns with old strategies, and now clients thought we were a dinosaur.

“So, what do you think I should do about this contract?” I ask her again. I try not to sound impatient, but my head has been spinning ever since Dad announced his retirement—and I learned exactly what I’d need to do to take his place.

“Let me make sure I understand. You need to inherit and unfuck T&C, or else the board will pawn it off. Before the next financial quarter.”

“Yep.”

“But Bill Tate’s will says you can’t inherit until you marry his son.”

“Uh-huh.”

She sucks her teeth. “So . . . down the aisle in a matter of days, huh? Sounds like the board is the rock and Tate’s will is the hard place.”

“Exactly.” Although it’s Justin’s hard place that I really need to worry about right now. “And between the two, my personal life’s about to get smashed into dust.”

“I didn’t know you had a personal life.” She holds up one hand at my exasperated glare. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t really.” I sigh heavily. “But damn it, why should I give up what little I have? It’s not fair. At the end of a long workday, I want to come home to my own space for some peace and quiet.”

Not to mention wine. And ice cream. And drowning out the silence with crappy TV so I can’t start thinking about how lonely I am.

“I couldn’t stand having that jerk in my face 24–7. I’d put up with him all day at work, and then I’d have to see his dirty socks everywhere.” Fuck no.

“Who says you have to share your space?”

I snort as I lift a forkful of papas bravas to my mouth. “A husband and wife who don’t live together? Yeah, that’d look just great for publicity.” One of many reasons why Dad would never let me hear the end of it.

Camryn shrugs, her palms turned up. “My point is, you don’t necessarily have to lose your whole life.”

“Just the parts with independence and privacy.”

“Come on, try to think about the situation like any other business move. This marriage is just a piece of paper. After you and Justin deal with the big picture, you can negotiate the details like adults and find something you can both live with. You two are on the same page here—making a huge personal sacrifice to save your company.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Justin seems way more into the idea than me. He was on board from the very beginning.”

I rub my hand where he kissed it, thinking about the husky way he murmured Mrs. Tate. His idea of matrimony clearly isn’t very holy.

Camryn raises one perfectly waxed eyebrow. “Oh? You think he likes the idea of sharing a bed with you?”

“I think he likes sharing a bed with anything that has a pulse.”

Although his playboy ways make it seem even odder that he’s so eager to tie himself down. Uh, that was a poor choice of words. But who’s to say he won’t just keep sleeping around?

Like Camryn said, this marriage is strictly business. A mere legal formality. And Justin would probably explode if he went more than a week without pussy.

I may be the boss’s daughter, but I still overhear my fair share of office gossip. Justin nailed all six interns last summer. He’s also slept with various secretaries over the years, and everyone just turned a blind eye. Boys will be boys . . .

Well, playtime is over. If he expects to turn this company around, we’ve got our work cut out for us.

“But how do you feel about all this? Justin Tate is pretty fucking hot.”

“Camryn . . .” I groan.

“What? I have working eyeballs. His hotness is an objective fact. Just like the pope being Catholic and carbs making you fat. He just is. Would it really be so bad to see him naked?” Her sly smile says she’s suggesting a lot more than just looking. “As long as we’re weighing the pros and cons here . . .”

I pause to consider the image, then grudgingly admit, “No.”

In fact, it would probably be pretty damn fantastic. I’ve already gotten a preview of his toned body, firm chest, and six-pack abs. Whenever our families summered together in the Hamptons, he took every opportunity to strut around shirtless. Hell, when I was nineteen, I came close to fucking him. But I was young and stupid and horny back then. Now I’m older, wiser . . . and still incredibly horny. Damn it.

It’s ridiculous how easily Justin grabs my attention. The smallest thing he does can leave me flustered. Like at the close of our business meeting yesterday. Just as a bare-bones courtesy, the most brusque good-bye possible, I stuck out my hand at him—only for Justin to bow slightly and raise it to his mouth for a lingering kiss.

“A pleasure doing business with you . . . Mrs. Tate,” he teased in a husky voice.

My mouth went dry and my stomach fluttered. Or maybe that flutter was somewhere a bit south of my stomach. I suddenly remembered exactly how many years, months, days, and hours it had been since I’d last gotten laid.

I tried to recover. Who the hell did he think he was? We were standing in a Madison Avenue skyscraper, not a sixteenth-century castle. This was wildly inappropriate workplace behavior. I could slap his tight ass with a harassment suit if I wanted. Instead, I just gave the cocky bastard a death glare and the iciest retort I could think of.

But it was too late. There was no denying my body’s reaction. The red-hot shiver that had run down my spine when his soft, full lips touched my knuckles, brushing my skin as he spoke.

Even now, I find myself replaying the image of Justin Tate gazing up at me with a sinful smirk, his dark eyes alight . . .

I shake away the steamy memory. So what if Justin knows how to flirt like the shameless manwhore he is? Schmoozing is all he’s good for. And handsome men are a dime a dozen, especially in New York. Hell, a fifty-dollar vibrator could do his job, and I wouldn’t have to listen to its bullshit. I didn’t bust my ass in business school just to become Justin’s little woman.

Then again, I also didn’t bust my ass in business school to watch my father’s company go down the drain, either.

My thoughts sober me, cooling my anger into melancholy. I spent my childhood in my father’s office, playing at his feet while he steered a financial ship of thousands. All children think of their parents as gods, and I was no exception. Even since I took my place at his right hand, with my own voice in the family business, I still respect him more than any other man.

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