4. Rory

That mouth. I can't look away from her mouth. Which leads down the road to those dirty thoughts again. I want to see her pretty lips wrapped around my dick. Feel the heat of her and just release all my troubles down her slender throat.

But I pull my head out of my ass and sigh. I'm not going to touch her. I can't touch her. I don't want to destroy another woman like I did Anna.

"I'm sorry. I must have missed something." She shakes her head and her blond ponytail flips back and forth, hitting her in the face. "I'm not dating anybody."

"Actually, according to what I told my boss, you're dating me. It's new."

She eyes me warily. "I'd say so. New to me too."

I chuckle. "Yeah, well, I got a bit carried away when he was digging around trying to find out how serous I was about this mystery woman of mine. I guess I just blurted out your name."

"You couldn't think of anyone else?"

"Not really."

"Huh."

"I know. I shouldn't have given him specifics but I did and it's out there and I could really use your help."

She points out the huge front window. "Heather doesn't believe you."

"I'm not sure that Cody does either. Which is why I need to go out with you a few times and make this whole thing seem more believable. So far, I told him that we've been hiding our relationship from prying eyes because we want our privacy to explore all these new feelings."

"And he believes that?"

"Enough to tell his wife, apparently."

"But she doesn't believe it," she points out. "She doesn't seem like she's going to out you though."

"I'm not sure what game Heather is playing. I don't know her very well."

Her full, pouty lips twitch. "She's got your number."

I frown at her. "Har-de-har."

She sighs and pushes her hand through her hair, fluffing it out of the constrained ponytail she's rocking.

"Help me help you," she says. "I just don't know how to do this for you. I'm not looking for a man. Fuck knows, I don't need this kind of hassle," she mutters under her breath.

"Yeah. What's going on with you? I saw you glancing at your phone and you didn't look happy."

She cocks her head and smirks. "Checking up on me, huh? Well, let's put it this way. I've got my own reasons that I don't want a man any more than you want a woman."

My chest hurts and I rub it absently. There's something painful and frightened lurking in the back of her midnight blue gaze and for just a moment I contemplate pushing to see what her problem is. Curiosity is a wicked, wicked thing and it's got me tied up in knots.

"Right. But will you do this with me?"

She sighs. "Fine. I'll help you. But I have to tell you something too." She pauses. "I don't like talking about my ex but you're gonna need to know this. Because I just don't trust the son of a bitch not to show up if he hears about you."

I lean back into a table, crossing my arms and legs, just waiting. I don't want to push her. Just like I don't want her to push me.

"My ex was an abusive son of a bitch," she whispers softly. My whole body goes cold and still. The thought that this man touched her makes ice cling to my skin. I shiver.

"What exactly does that mean? Did he touch you?" I whisper. My fists clench at my side and I want to hunt this man down just from the look on her face.

"He did. The last time we fought. But mostly he was just good at undermining all my good, happy thoughts. He was a master at telling me how beautiful I was in one breath and telling me that I needed to lose weight in another."

My head reels. Rage pours over me like scalding hot oil. "There's not a damn thing wrong with you, sweetheart. I hope you told him that and then to go to hell."

She flushes, staring at me and I see her pupils dilate until her eyes are dark and deep and deadly to my self-control. "No, I didn't bother arguing with him."

I step closer to her and my hand reaches out to touch her cheek, marveling at the soft, petal-smooth feel of her skin in my rough hand. "That's your first mistake, sweetheart. If some man can't appreciate you for the beautiful, magical woman that you are, you walk and you keep walking until you find a man who appreciates every damn little piece of you. If you snore, he thinks it's music to his ears. If you get a little sassy, it turns him on. Every thing that that guy thought was bad, the next guy thinks is the best part of you."

I move even closer, so close that her head is resting against my chest and I pant, loving her so close to me. My eyes rake up and down her lush curves. She's got wide hips that beg for my hands to hold onto while I slam into her, my dick nestling between her soft, sweet, juicy pussy lips and my body curving over hers. Protecting her even as I take her, claim her with my body.

I freeze when I can't think about anything but her staying in my house, hair tousled from my hands and her lovely body rounded with my baby.

I close my eyes and back away, desperate to give in but knowing that it would be the worst idea ever. I can't do that to either one of us. I like her too damn much and I cannot stand the idea of hurting her. She's already suffered so much.

My name won't be a swear word on her lips at some future time.

I back away slowly, letting my hands drop down and feeling every particle of me tightening with the urge, the need to stay by her side. To feel her touch and make her feel as good as I know she'd make me feel.

Instead of touching her I say, "Be my girlfriend. My fake girlfriend." And I curse the impulse that made me touch her and realize what I'm missing out on because I absolutely can't do it again.

This is fake and it needs to stay that way…for both our sakes.