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18. Keke

Chapter 18

Keke

I feel excited as I prepare to go out to dinner with Luke. I have never before participated in such an elaborate charade designed to highlight a relationship that existed more in the realm of fantasy than reality.

The restaurant glows with soft golden light over the elegantly set tables adorned with flickering candles. The clinking of glasses and the low hum of laughter creates an elegant symphony of sound. As I scan the room, I spot him at the bar, looking every bit the charming celebrity dressed in a tailored navy suit that emphasizes his broad shoulders and muscular frame.

He turns, and our eyes lock. For a heartbeat, the world fades, leaving just the two of us. His lips curve into a smile, and a rush of warmth washes over me. It’s the kind of smile that has the power to melt icebergs and soothe fears. We live together; I shouldn’t feel butterflies when I walk up to him, but I do.

“Wow, you look stunning,” he says as I approach, his eyes sparkling.

I’m wearing a black dress that hugs my curves. I hoped he’d like it. “Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself.”

I kiss his cheek, an innocent gesture that lingers. Tonight isn’t about playing a role, it’s about projecting an image that could secure Luke's future in the league and solidify our positions in the public eye. A newly involved, and fake couple, sharing a dinner. Professional ambition and personal entanglement made my head spin.

As we settle into our seats, the waiter approaches with a bottle of wine, and it was too easy to slip into the role of girlfriend around a stranger. The first few sips of the velvety red flow smoothly, loosening my inhibitions. Our conversation turns to laughter, laughter turns into more stories, and more stories melt into playful banter. I share a few tales from my college days, nothing too salacious, while he tells me about his dating disasters.

The night progresses. Our lightheartedness is abruptly shattered by unwelcome flashes of a camera, the bright, intrusive light cutting through the bubble of our intimacy. I turn, the sudden brightness making my eyes squint against the glare.

A paparazzo stands just outside the window, grinning like he just struck gold. My heart drops at the realization that this was the very thing I had tried to avoid.

“Who the hell is that?” Luke mutters, fury lighting up his face.

Before I can even process what’s happening, he runs outside, looking for the photographer. All caveman, no brains. Another paparazzo snaps shots of him ready to attack the first one.

I bang on the glass, shouting, “Luke, no!”

He hesitates, glancing back at me. Confusion flares in his eyes. He holds up his hands, stopping.

I wave for him to come back inside and thankfully, he does. “What did you stop me for? That guy was invading our privacy. Bars are one thing, but this is a nice restaurant.”

“I understand where you're at in your head right now, but I need you to understand this is not worth the fight. It will only make things worse.”

For a fleeting moment I see the inner battle raging within him, the desire to defend me clashing with the need to maintain our carefully constructed image. But the three paparazzi, emboldened by the spectacle, continue to snap picture after picture.

“Damn it,” I mutter. “Focus on me, Luke, not them. Never them.”

His jaw clenches and he looks angry, but he settles down. “You're the boss.”

“Let's just get the check and go.”

We do just that, and as we retreat from the restaurant, the air feels heavier. Smothering, almost. Our good-natured banter has evaporated, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that clings to us.

After a while, I can no longer keep my thoughts inside. “Why did you fly off the handle like that?”

“I was trying to protect you. How can you be mad about that?”

“Protect me by nearly starting a fight with a guy who was just doing his job? That's not protection, that's being reckless.”

Anger rolls off of him in waves as he puts the key in the lock. “What am I supposed to do, just stand by while someone disrespects you?”

“I need you to think strategically instead of reactively. It's not just you that needs a makeover, remember?” I slam the door behind us.

“But—”

“I alerted them beforehand to where we would be.”

He blinks at me. “You did what?”

“I’m doing my job. I just wish that idiot knew how to work his camera at night without a fucking flash. Amateur.”

“You… you set me up?”

“No, of course not!” I drop my purse on the kitchen counter. “I’m trying to control the narrative, Luke. Paparazzi can be our enemy, or they can be our friend. Tonight should have showcased the story of a happy new couple. Instead, it’s going to highlight a meathead and the girl who can barely keep him under control!”

“Why didn’t you?—”

My phone rings, cutting him off. The only people not silenced are Luke, Michael, and Whitney, so I pick up immediately, putting her on speaker. “Hello?”

“Care to explain?” Whitney asks sharply.

“He didn’t know they’d be there.”

“Why not?”

“Yeah, tell her why not!” he says.

I sigh. “Because he worries his acting chops are not up to snuff, so I thought some romantic candid shots would be good.”

They both blow out an annoyed breath. “Next time, clue him in. We cannot afford another mistake,” she says bitterly. The line goes dead.

“You should have told me,” he mutters, his head in his hands. “Now I look like an asshole.”

“This isn't just about you. It's about our image and the charity event. We need to show people that we are a united front, not ones who fly off the handle. I get that you feel like you need to prove that you're a big, strong man, and that it's an ego stroke for you to attack?—”

“I didn’t do it for my damn ego. All I wanted was to protect you, Keke. A man is supposed to protect the people he cares about.”

The admission hangs in the air. My breath hitches as I process his words, and something cracks in my chest. “Luke…”

He stands and takes my face in his hands. His lips brush against mine in a soft kiss, igniting a flame within me I hadn't anticipated, not so soon after seeing him act like a caveman. I lean into him, caught up in the moment. It’s been a while since our night of wild sex. Neither of us have made a move since then.

I figured he wasn’t interested anymore so I hadn’t tried, but right now, I want this as much as he does. I have to keep my head clear, however, so I push him away. “The other night was purely physical, right?”

“Not for me.” The earnestness in his voice digs deep. “I like you, Keke. I like you in a way that's more than just physical.”

My heart skips a beat as my instinct to protect myself takes over. “Letting emotions settle in will screw us both. I won't risk that.”

“Fine. But you can't tell me to turn off my feelings.”

I swallow hard, unsure what to do with that confession. “You keep saying I'm your boss, so here it is. Unless I say otherwise, there is no fighting, no aggression. You will be sweet and friendly, and nothing else.” Especially with me .

His gaze sharpens. “I had too much of an adrenaline jolt tonight. The only way that's coming down is if I pick a fight with some asshole in a bar, or I exhaust myself on your body. You choose.”

Heat washes over me and I struggle to maintain my composure. Our hook up had been the best sex of my life. Every part of my body wants me to say yes to this but I know better. “We can't do that again. It’s too complicated.”

He gives me those puppy dog eyes and my heart melts. He steps closer so I step back. One more step and I’m against the wall, trapped. “Think about it.” He comes in closer, nuzzling my cheek. My heart kicks up, thundering in my ears. “What's the harm in a little more fun?”

I shouldn't give in. I know I should keep my guard up but that glint of mischief in his eyes tugs at something deep within me. I want this, again.

But this time, I’m going to make him work for it.

“Only if you promise to keep your temper in check. No more fighting. If you can manage that, I'll consider your proposal.”

“Deal.” He presses himself against me, brushing his lips against mine, sending shivers through me.

“You’re supposed to live up to your end of the bargain first.”

He kisses down my neck. “Do you really want me to stop? I promise, I’ll be a good boy. Just as soon as I’m done being a bad one. Say yes.”

I can’t deny that every moment with him pulls me deeper into this mess of feelings. Suppression had been my only ally. Now what? “Yes.”

He hoists me against the wall, sliding the dress up my thighs as I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s already hard, and he rubs himself against me as we kiss. More like nibbles, really. There’s something about him that makes me ravenous.

He scoots the strip of lace I called underwear out of his way, and seconds later, he’s inside of me. It’s all too much—too much pleasure, too much sensation. The wall grinds against my back through the dress, and I know it will be raw tomorrow, but I don’t care. I need this.

I squeeze around him, a warning shot. I had been wound up for weeks, ready to explode. I’d burned through batteries since our last encounter, and no turns on my vibrator were enough to quench my thirst. I should have come to Luke sooner.

I cling to his shoulders as he bounces me on his cock, growling, “That’s it, baby. Fuck yes, just like that.”

He drives himself hard and deep, and I come apart on him, crying out his name. He keeps at it, not slowing down. “After I come, I want you on my face.”

“Fuck,” I hiss.

My body coils up, ready for another while I’m still trying to catch my breath.

“Maybe, if you’re a good girl, I’ll let your favorite toy in on the fun. Would you like that? Or would you like to show me what you do with it?”

I blink at him, surprised.

“I wanna see you touch yourself, baby. Mmm, just the thought of that…” He curses under his breath, thickening and coming at the same time until his body stills inside of me.

He kisses me madly, like it might never end.

Part of me prays that’s true.

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