Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

GEMMA

It’s Saturday, and I’m getting ready to head to my mother’s boyfriend’s house with Trey pretending to be my boyfriend. I’m not sure how this happened.

I offered to pick Trey up to drive to the suburbs, but he said he’d meet me at my place.

We texted a handful of times throughout the past two weeks and met two more times for drinks. He’s certainly taking this seriously, asking a ton of questions about book boyfriends and their tendencies.

As I pack two towels into my bag, my phone pings with a text notification. I see that it’s my text group titled Perverts . That means it’s my author friends.

JoJo: Quick, I need something that could have only been invented by a man, besides individual coffee pods. Those are offensive.

Libby: Metal toilet seats. Those are the devil’s work.

Ava: LOL. True. I had to use one at my nephew’s soccer game. My ass hasn’t been the same since. I can tell you firsthand that the iFart app is the dumbest invention and clearly a man must have invented it. My ex-husband thought fart noises were hysterical.

Me: Crotchless panties. Only a man would think those are a good idea.

JoJo: True. So uncomfortable.

Libby: What about pet rocks? How dumb do you have to be? It had to be a man.

Me: We’re missing the most obvious answer. High heels.

JoJo: Ooh. Good one. I’ll use that. Thx!

We always text each other when we need something for a book and the answer isn’t coming to our minds. I love how much we help each other.

Trey knocks on the door to my walkup brownstone at the agreed-upon time. Despite the chilly fall weather, he’s in bathing suit bottoms and a Philadelphia football hoodie with aviator sunglasses. His legs, which I’m seeing for the first time, are extremely thick and muscular.

Maybe I’m used to more uptight men, but there’s something different about Trey’s masculinity and confidence, which I find very attractive. Jenna is a lucky woman.

He smiles as I open the door. “This place is great.”

“Thank you. I bought it two years ago. I love the location.”

It’s right in the heart of Center City. I’m near all the shops and a few parks. Earning enough money to pay for a place like this is a tremendous source of pride for me .

He hands me a cup of coffee. “With a splash of skim milk, just as you like it.”

I’ve known him for three weeks, and he knows how I take my coffee. I dated Aiden for two years and he never knew. Unreal.

“Thank you.” I grab my cup and wave for him to enter. “Come in. I need to grab my bag.”

He walks in and looks around before letting out a whistle. “Wow. You have amazing taste. I suppose it’s not surprising, given how you dress, but this is gorgeous.”

“It’s my sanctuary. I guess I have an eye for interior decoration. I enjoy it.”

“More than an eye. I feel like I’m walking into a magazine. Truly, it’s one of the nicest places I’ve ever seen. Maybe I’m used to twenty-something, single-man, frat-house vibes, but this place is so…grown up.”

I let out a laugh, knowing the exact kind of bachelor pads he’s talking about.

I gather my belongings, and we head out to my car to begin our twenty-five-minute ride.

“This is your mom’s boyfriend’s house, right?”

“Yes. Byron is kind of stuffy, but so is my mother. I guess they’re a good match. They’ve been together for a few months.”

“I’ve gathered you don’t get along with her?”

“I do, but I’m closer to my grandmother. The two of them are like oil and water though. I’m usually the referee. They grew up very comfortable. While my grandmother always remained humble, my mother didn’t.”

“And your father?”

“He remarried. Three times. He lives in London now. I usually visit once a year if I can. What about your family? Besides your sister in Connecticut.”

“I’m originally from Arizona. Both of my parents are still in that area. They both date but no one too serious for either of them. I just have the one sister in Connecticut, no other siblings. ”

“What brought you to the East Coast?”

He shifts uncomfortably. “Work.”

“Work? Can’t you do your job anywhere?”

“I suppose I visited and liked the area. And my sister is nearby.”

“Does that mean you’re not a true Philly football fan?” I smile. “I might have to fire you as a client.”

He points to his sweatshirt, which is a Philly football sweatshirt. “I’ve been converted.”

“Phew. You can stay.”

He chuckles. “Today I’m going to work on my burgeoning book-boyfriend skills. I appreciate all the advice, and now I need to take it out for a test drive. You’re good with that, right?”

“Yes. I was thinking about it. It will be helpful for you to practice, and my mother is always on my case about getting married. It’s easier for her to think we’re dating. It’s a win-win.”

“Does she try to set you up? My mother used to do that all the time.”

“I won’t even entertain that notion. I shiver to think of the type of men she’d choose. She thinks I sit home at night on my computer writing love stories instead of living one. This will get her off my back for a little while.”

He tips his hat. “Glad to be of service, ma’am.”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “The fake dating trope is a big one. I’ve written a few books on it.”

He chuckles. “Gotcha.”

Thirty minutes later, we pull up to the address Mom gave me. It’s as ostentatious as I assumed it would be. It looks like Versailles in Paris. This guy thinks he’s French royalty. Knowing my mother, he very well might be.

As we walk to the front door, Trey takes my hand in his. It’s huge. I could fit five of my hands in his. I look down in question though I don’t pull away.

“Practice, right? You said book boyfriends are all about the constant contact and subtle touches. ”

“Right. Got it. Thanks again for coming. It’s really nice of you to give up your day off.”

He smiles. “There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.” He sounds so genuine when he says that.

We’re introduced to a handful of people, including Byron’s daughter, Amelie. She’s an attractive blonde, a few years younger than me. She eye-fucks the shit out of Trey. I suppose I don’t blame her.

We also meet her boyfriend. He’s a good-looking guy, but he has nothing on Trey.

Byron’s friend, Andrew, stares at Trey for a long time. “Do I know you? You look very familiar.”

Trey shakes his head and turns his face away just a bit. “Not that I am aware of.”

I lean over to Trey and quietly ask, “Do you see how Amelie is staring at you like she wants to devour you?”

He turns to look at her, and she licks her lips suggestively. Very suggestively.

“I didn’t until you mentioned it.”

I lift my eyebrow. “Already a good book boyfriend. No woman wants a man looking at other women while they’re on a date.”

“That seems like an obvious one.”

Mom fawns all over Trey. She whispers in my ear, “He’s so handsome. My grandchildren will be gorgeous.”

I roll my eyes. For crying out loud, she’s already got us having kids.

“Does he work in finance like Aiden?”

“Mom, he’s—”

Before I can finish, Byron pulls Mom’s hand. “Let’s head out to the pool area. Lunch will be served soon.”

We make our way to the indoor pool room. It’s more than a room. I let out a laugh when we enter what can best be described as a giant atrium. It’s an indoor space that’s made to look like it’s outdoors. It’s practically a courtyard in a glass enclosure. There are larger and smaller tables. There must be at least twenty chaise lounges. The pool has rock formations, a diving board, a slide, and a waterfall.

Trey looks around wide-eyed. “Wow, this is nuts.”

We drop our bags on a chair and Trey removes his shirt. What in the ever-loving fuck? He’s ripped. His muscles have muscles. He has one of those V-lines into his swim trunks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that on a real man, only cover model men.

He’s so hot. I have to turn around so I’m not obviously drooling over him.

I’m about to unzip my velvet sweatshirt when I feel his heat behind me. “Let me do that for you, baby.” He whispers in my ear, “I’m practicing, remember?”

I nod before he slowly unzips my top in a manner that can best be described as erotic. His hands brush across my stomach, and he kisses my neck while doing it. My whole body shivers from his unexpected contact.

He bends and removes my matching bottoms. His fingers run down my legs as he does so. It suddenly feels extremely hot in here.

I look down. My nipples might poke a hole in the bathing suit. I did opt for a one-piece. It seemed silly to wear a bikini indoors. It’s white with ruffles. It’s very pretty but does little to hide how turned on I am by his touch.

With his hands on my waist, he turns me around and moves his eyes up and down my body. He breathes, “You’re so beautiful.”

I swallow. “Umm…you don’t have to say that. No one can hear you.”

He looks down at me as his eyes meet mine. “Would you prefer I shout it?”

Before I can answer, Amelie walks over to us in the smallest bikini I’ve ever seen. Her nipples are bigger than the tiny triangles attempting to cover them. She holds out her bottle of suntan lotion. “Trey, would you mind putting this on my back? I can’t reach.”

She turns her back in encouragement. Oh my god. She’s wearing a freakin’ thong. Is that really necessary for an indoor pool party?

Trey doesn’t break eye contact with me as he replies, “We’re indoors. You don’t need any.”

She scrunches her face. “Oh…well…it’s moisturizer too. I tend to get dry in the colder months.”

Again, not breaking eye contact with me, he says, “Then ask your boyfriend. I’m busy.” He turns his head to her and gives her an icy stare. “I don’t make it a habit of touching women who aren’t my girlfriend. I’m also not a fan of childish, obvious games. I’m here with Gemma today. Respect that and be on your way.”

Her face falls in horror and she practically stomps away.

I think I’m panting. Is this Trey or him trying to be a book boyfriend? Either way, I don’t think he needs my services. He’s got being a sexy book boyfriend down cold. He could write the fucking manual.

Byron and Mom approach us. Mom looks me up and down. “Pretty suit, Gemma. It looks nice on you. Where did you get it?”

I snap out of my Trey trance and turn to her. “Thanks, Mom. I bought it in the South of France last year.”

Trey stands next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder as he pulls me close. “She looks good in everything, doesn’t she? I’ve never met a woman who always looks so perfect. She could make a garbage bag fashionable and sexy.”

Mom raises an eyebrow. “Let’s hope we never have to find out.”

Byron smiles. “What is it you do, Trey?”

“I own a plumbing business.”

Mom’s face immediately falls. “Oh. Not your normal type, Gemma.”

I’m suddenly feeling defensive of Trey and annoyed with my mother. I wrap my arm around Trey’s waist. Fucking hell, his body is rock solid.

“The usual type hasn’t worked out so well for me. I’m changing things up.”

She gives a disapproving nod. I know exactly what she’s thinking. Ugh.

Amelie’s scream breaks my heated stare down with my mother.

“Ahh.” She whines, “Daddy, the pool is freezing.”

Byron turns his head toward her. “What? The heater should keep it warm.”

She’s got her feet on the first step. “It’s ice cold. I think I have frostbite.”

He walks over and sticks his hand in. “What the dickens? There’s no heat coming out of the jets. Of course the pool guy isn’t here today.” He looks at Trey. “You’re a plumber. Maybe you can take a look at the equipment.”

Trey’s jaw tightens. I shake my head. “Byron, he’s a plumber, not a pool man. I don’t think it’s the same.”

Byron waves his hand. “Nonsense. It’s all pipes with water and the like. Right, Trey?”

“Umm…well…I don’t have my tools.”

Byron smiles. “We have a maintenance shed. Anything you could possibly want should be in there. Come. I’ll show you.”

TREY

Oh. Fuck. I know nothing about plumbing and even less about pools.

Gemma squeezes my arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

I don’t want to let her down or blow my cover. Smiling, I respond, “I’ll do the best I can. I’ve never worked on a pool, but it can’t hurt to have a look at things. ”

Maybe I’ll get lucky.

She nods. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, no. You all stay here.” I kiss her head, taking in her delicious floral-scented shampoo. “Have a drink, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Byron gathers me a bunch of tools. I doubt I could tell you the name of a single one of them. I don’t have a handy bone in my body. The maintenance man in my building has to come and change my light bulbs.

He offers to assist me in the pool equipment room, but I tell him it’s better for me to do it alone. I make up some excuse about it being dangerous, like it’s a minefield and not a pool equipment room.

As I walk toward the equipment area, I quickly pull out my phone and click on Cheetah’s phone number. He answers right away, “I want to wear you like a pair of sunglasses. One leg over each ear.”

“What the fuck, dude?”

He fumbles with the phone. “Oh shit. I thought it was one of my dial-a-fucks, Trina. I don’t have my contact lenses in. What’s up, Trey?”

“I’m at the pool party I mentioned. The pool heater broke, and they think I can fix it because I’m supposed to be a plumber. I don’t know what to do. I know jack shit about plumbing and pool equipment.”

He starts laughing hysterically. “Oh my god. This is priceless. Why are you calling me? I’m not a fucking pool boy, though I played one once for a chick I was seeing who liked when I dressed up.”

“What did you wear? What’s a pool boy uniform?”

“A neon-pink banana hammock. Duh.”

“I don’t know why I ask. Do you know any plumbers or pool people? Please. I need help.”

“Hmm. My cousin down in Mexico has a pool. Want me to ask him? ”

“Yes, I’m desperate.”

“Hold on. I’ll conference him in.”

I arrive at the pool equipment area with the tool kit in tow. I hear the phone ringing, indicating that Cheetah is calling his cousin.

A man answers, saying something in Spanish.

Cheetah happily responds, “Coma estas, Miguel?”

They start conversing in Spanish. I don’t know what the hell they’re saying.

“Trey, Miguel said to make sure the heater power is on and then feel the top of it to see if it’s hot.”

“What the fuck does a pool heater look like?”

After another Spanish exchange, he says, “It will be the biggest rectangular box in the pool equipment area. Like a washing machine. Pipes should be coming out of it and leading to the pool.”

I look around and locate what must be the heater. “Okay. I see it.” I check the panel. “The power is on.” I feel the top, but it’s not hot. “It’s not hot though.”

They start talking again, leaving me clueless.

“He thinks it’s probably a pilot light issue. He said to check the gas line.”

“I’m not fucking with the gas line. I don’t want to cause an explosion. Dying isn’t on my list of activities for today.”

“Hmm. Fair point.”

They chat back and forth.

“Miguel wants to know if you have a wrench.”

I look through the toolbox and locate several. “Yes. I have lots. What size?”

“He said to get a big one.”

I find the biggest one and pull it out of the box. “Okay. Now what?”

“He said to hit the top of the heater with it.”

“Are you fucking with me? ”

“No. He said that works sometimes when all else fails. It needs a little kick in the ass for the pilot light to ignite.”

“This is stupid.”

“What other choice do you have? Just do it.”

I tap the top of the heater.

I hear Cheetah sigh. “You’re a fucking ball player. Hit the damn heater like you mean it.”

I rear back and slam the top of the heater with the wrench three times…and it fucking kicks on. I can hear the pilot flicker on and then see the gaseous heat radiating from the large machine.

“Holy shit. That worked. Cheetah, you’re a genius.”

He chuckles. “I can’t believe that worked. I mostly just wanted to see if you’d do it. Gracias, Miguel.”

I concur, “Gracias, Miguel.”

“De nada.”

I’m feeling about a thousand feet tall right now. That’s the handiest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

With my chest puffed out, I head back around to the pool with a big smile on my face. I look at Byron. “All fixed.”

He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Good man. How about a little whiskey to thank you. I have a special collection you might like.”

“I’m fine hanging with Gemma. Thank you though.”

Her back is to me as she talks with a group of people. I approach and place my hand on her lower back. I notice goosebumps erupt over her skin.

I lean into her. “We’re back in business.”

She looks surprised. “You were able to fix it?”

I smile. “Yep.”

Just then a man walks over to me with a silver tray full of the smallest ice cream cones I’ve ever seen. I’m talking one-inch-sized ice cream cones with some sort of sorbet on them.

In French-accented English, the man asks, “Amuse-bouche, sir? ”

I look at Gemma and pinch my eyebrows together. “Did he say amused bush ?”

She lets out a loud laugh. “No, amuse-bouche. It’s kind of a small, bite-sized appetizer. But sorbet is more of an intermezzo even though we haven’t eaten yet.”

“What’s an intermezzo?”

She bites back a smile. “It’s like a palette cleanser you have between meals.”

I blow out a breath. “I need to up my fancy-talk game.”

I grab two and feed her one before popping the other in my mouth. It’s pretty good.

I nod in contentment. “My bush is amused.”

She giggles.

I learned a few more new fancy terms today. Like side dishes are called accompaniments.

What I really learned is that I love having my hands on Gemma’s body. I may have gone overboard in taking advantage of this opportunity, but I couldn’t help myself.

GEMMA

I get home, immediately send Trey on his way, and run straight into the bathroom to turn on my shower. I need it to be ice cold. My body couldn’t be any hotter if it were on fire, and it has nothing to do with the high temperature of the indoor pool area.

Trey’s hands were on my body all fucking day. All. Fucking. Day. I swear, he maintained constant contact every single second. He held my hand, touched my back, squeezed my hips, and ran his fingertips up and down my arms. Even when we had lunch, his arm was around my chair while he gently tickled my shoulder. And when he wiped the salad dressing from the corner of my mouth with his thumb, I swear, I almost had an orgasm .

I’ve never in my life been given more singular attention from a man than by my fake boyfriend for the day.

He managed to charm every single person there. Even my mother liked him by the end of the afternoon. This guy absolutely doesn’t need my services, but right now, I need to be serviced.

I undress and grab one of my preferred waterproof toys, setting it on the shower bench. After stepping into the shower, I begin to wash my body with the fragrant shower gel. I scrub ferociously, needing to erase his touch from my memory before I implode from it. Closing my eyes, I can still feel him. It’s like he’s imprinted on me.

His blue eyes were drinking me in all day. That chin dimple was taunting me. I’m not sure what I want to do more, lick it, or sit on it.

I run my hands over my thighs. The palm of my hand brushes between my legs. I jerk at the sensation. Why am I suddenly wondering what Trey’s calloused hands would feel like between my legs? Oh god, I bet they would feel amazing.

My fingers run through my wet folds while I imagine what it would have felt like if Trey slipped his fingers into my bathing suit. Admittedly, I found myself praying for it most of the afternoon.

I lift one of my feet onto the bench, spreading my legs wider. Looking at the tile wall, I get flashes of Trey fucking me against it. He’s got the size and strength to easily fuck a woman against a wall. That’s another book-boyfriend thing that’s hard to replicate in real life, but I have no doubt Trey could accomplish it.

My fingers now slip inside myself. They’re too soft. Too small. What if they were more like his fingers? God, I want to know what that feels like. I’m aching for it.

Better yet, what if his cock was inside me? There’s no way a man his size isn’t well-hung. He must be at least six feet, three inches, and every single part of him is thick. I can’t help but imagine his girthy cock sliding in and out of me .

I think of his blue eyes and the intensity with which they stared at me all day. He made me feel like the most cherished person in the world.

And his body. I bite my lip hard. His body is a dream. I want to run my fingers over that V. I want to trace the hair from his belly button that disappeared into his bathing suit.

I slide my now vibrating toy inside me while my fingers travel to my clit. It’s swollen, as it has been most of the day. I move the toy in and out with one hand while the other rubs until I feel the orgasm building.

Squeezing my eyes shut, Trey’s face is on my mind when I fall over the edge. It goes on and on, seemingly unending. I haven’t had this powerful of an orgasm in a long time.

Shit. I need to stay away from him. It’s Thanksgiving next week. He’ll be easy to avoid. After that, I’m going to tell him that he doesn’t need my services. It’s for the best.