Fake Empire: Chapter 16

When the elevator doors open, it’s to the sound of loud female laughter. It’s not Scarlett’s, a sound I unwittingly memorized, despite the fact I’ve only heard it a few times. This is higher-pitched.

I pass the entryway tables and walk into the living room, following the sound. Scarlett is sitting on the sectional couch, poking at a container of Chinese food with a fork. At the sound of my footsteps, she looks up. Her eyes widen with surprise—she wasn’t expecting me home this early.

“Crew!”

“Red.” I look at the other two women on the sofa. One has blonde hair, the other, light brown. I recognize them, surprisingly. They were with Scarlett that night at Proof, when she scared that woman off and I responded in kind. Had anyone else done that, I would have been pissed. With Scarlett, I found it amusing. The first of many exceptions where she is concerned.

I stroll forward and give the two women my most charming smile. “I didn’t know you were inviting company over.”

“I thought you had a meeting tonight.”

“Plans changed.” More like I pushed the meeting to tomorrow morning so I could come home earlier and screw Scarlett senseless. I take a seat beside her on the couch and focus my attention on the two other women. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Crew.” I’m assuming they were at our wedding, but I don’t recall seeing either of them.

The blonde gives me a saucy smile that immediately tells me why she and Scarlett are friends. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Sophie, and this is Nadia.” She nods to the woman to her right. “Scarlett has been stingy with details about her hot husband.”

I glance at Scarlett in time to see her roll her eyes and then take a healthy sip of wine.

“Hot husband, huh? Are you ladies married?”

“Nadia is practically engaged. She and Finn have been together forever. And I’m seeing where things go.”

“Seeing where things go? You said you were going to break up with Kyle weeks ago!” Nadia says.

The name Kyle and the way Scarlett tenses beside me tickles something in the back of my brain. “How long have you and Kyle been dating?”

“About four months now,” Sophie replies. “But it feels like less. He’s a surgeon, so I barely see him.”

“A surgeon, huh?” I glance at Scarlett, who’s intently studying her dinner. When your wife tells you she’s sleeping with someone else, details tend to imprint. Our conversation in the car after the Rutherford gala is burned into my brain. She told me his name is Kyle, and he’s a surgeon. That’s too much of a coincidence, right? Unless she fucked her friend’s boyfriend behind her back, she lied to me. Deliberately. Convincingly. “Sounds like a real catch. Have you met this Kyle, Scarlett?”

“Nope.” She shoves a forkful of sweet and sour chicken into her mouth.

“We should go on a triple date!” Sophie exclaims, making it seem like the most revolutionary idea to ever exist. “We’ve never all been in relationships at the same time before.”

“Sure, sounds fun,” I agree. I doubt it will be fun, but getting on Scarlett’s friends’ good side can’t hurt.

Sophie beams. “Perfect. I’ll ask Kyle about dates.”

“Can’t wait to meet him.”

If possible, Sophie’s smile brightens. I am definitely on her good side. Nadia is harder to read, but seems agreeable enough. Scarlett’s fingers are basically strangling the fork.

“Let’s start a movie,” Scarlett suggests.

“I’m going to the bathroom first,” Nadia says before climbing off the couch.

Sophie stands as well. “I’ll come with you. Last time we were over here, I got totally lost.”

Nadia and Sophie disappear. Neither Scarlett nor I move. I don’t speak first. I wait to see what she says. Finally, she sighs. “I lied, okay? I haven’t been with anyone else since we got married either.”

I thought I’d made peace with the knowledge she had. The rush of euphoria—of relief—at the confession she hasn’t is unexpected. “Why did you lie to me?”

“You know why. I was mad at you that night. This wasn’t supposed to be…this. I assumed you were sleeping around, and so I told you I was. I didn’t think you’d believe me if I didn’t give you a name, so I stole Sophie’s hook up.” Another long exhale. “Just forget it.”

There’s no chance I’ll be doing that. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I almost did. In Italy, after we…” She glances at the doorway her friends disappeared through, like she’s worried they’ll overhear us. “I wasn’t sure how you would react. If you’d still—” I watch her play with a stray thread on the hem of her tank top.

“If I’d still what?” I nudge in a soft tone.

“If you’d still be interested.”

I blink a few times as those words sink in. “Interested?” I echo. What the fuck is she talking about?

“Don’t play dumb, Crew. We’re married. I’m basically a sure thing. Guys want what they can’t have, not what they have.”

I laugh. “You’re serious?” Based on the way her eyes flash, she is. “You think I think you’re a sure thing?” Saying the words makes me laugh again. I’ve never worked harder for a scrap of a woman’s attention than I do with Scarlett. Every time she touches me, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. I grasp her chin in my hand and tilt her face up, so she has no choice but to look right at me. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you, Scarlett. Thinking you were with other guys didn’t make you more desirable or keep my attention. It made me want to punch every single one of them in the face.”

“We made it through the maze!” Sophie announces, bouncing into the room.

Scarlett jerks her face out of my grasp and faces her friend, pasting a wide, fake smile on her face. “Great. Where’s Nadia?”

“Here.” Nadia walks into the room and settles back in her original spot on the couch. “What are we watching?”

I study Scarlett as Sophie and Nadia debate options on Netflix.

“We can talk more later,” I tell her quietly. “Did Teddy get fed?”

She nods without looking at me. “Yeah. And walked. Your dinner is in the kitchen, if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you.” I lean over and kiss her shoulder. “I’ll be upstairs.”

“You don’t have to.” This time, she’s looking at me when I glance over. “You can stay down here. Eat with us, if you want.”

I don’t ask if she’s sure. Scarlett doesn’t make offers she doesn’t mean. “Okay.”

Both Nadia and Sophie glance over when I stand. “Just going to grab some dinner and change,” I tell them. “Do you ladies need anything?”

They both shake their heads, giggling.

When I walk into the kitchen, there are three paper containers on the counter. I open one, finding Mongolian beef inside. The next has kung pao chicken. I’ve eaten Chinese with Scarlett once, and she remembered everything I liked. It does something twisty to my insides. Something that’s more than attraction, more than loyalty. My role models, when it comes to romantic relationships, have all been shitty ones. Men who know they can get away with anything and women who let them.

Scarlett and I are different. I want us to be different. For the first time, I feel some real confidence that it’s something she might want too.

Nothing has changed when I reenter the living room in sweatpants, dinner in hand. Teddy trails on my heels. I love the little dog, who’s steadily growing every day. The papers from the rescue only guessed at his heritage. There’s definitely a lot of golden retriever in him. Beyond that, he’s a mystery.

Scarlett smiles when she sees him. Teddy sniffs around her and then heads over to Sophie and Nadia on the other couch. They both gush over him. Sophie even climbs down onto the floor to pet him.

I take a seat beside Scarlett and dig into my dinner.

“You softie,” she accuses, looking at Teddy, who is basking in her friends’ attention. “He’s supposed to have a routine with his crate.”

“Says you,” I reply. “The doggie daycare said you picked him up three hours early.”

She shrugs, but I see right through it. “It was on my way home.”

“Admit it, you missed him.”

“You came home early too.”

“Not to see Teddy.”

“What are we watching?” Nadia asks, interrupting our side conversation.

Scarlett leans forward to grab the remote off the coffee table. Her tank top rides up, exposing a strip of skin. Just like that, I’m envisioning peeling the thin material off her body. Changing might have been a mistake.

The girls settle on a comedy. A few minutes in, I know I won’t be paying much attention to it. I finish my dinner and spread out on the couch. After hesitating, Scarlett lies down beside me. Her ass rubs directly over my crotch, and I groan into her ear. “Unless you’re willing to finish it, don’t start it, Scarlett.”

“Who said I’m not willing to finish it?” she whispers back.

I slip a few fingers under the hem of her tank top, tracing circles on her smooth skin. Nadia, or maybe Sophie, laugh at something happening on the screen. I don’t look over to check. “I don’t want to share you. I’m the only one who fucks you, Red.”

Her breath hitches. I hear it, and I feel it. The quick rise of her rib cage.

“Say it.”

She turns her head, so it’s tucked under my chin. “You’re the only one who fucks me,” she whispers.

I tease the underside of her breast, and then slip my hand back down to rest on her stomach. “Watch the movie.”

She huffs, annoyed. I smile, sliding my hand to curl around her hip and staring at the screen without registering a single pixel.

The next thing I know, Scarlett is shaking me awake. I blink, scrub my hands across my face, and yawn. “Shit. I fell asleep?”

She nods. “Somewhere between the shoot out and a sex scene, so you must have been exhausted.”

“I thought the movie was about a bachelorette trip?”

“Thing escalated, I guess. I wasn’t paying very close attention.”

“No?” I ask, the picture of innocence.

Scarlett rolls her eyes. “I put Teddy in his crate. Sophie and Nadia left. I’m heading up to bed.” But she doesn’t move.

I do.

I tug her closer, flipping our positions so she’s caged beneath me. Electricity crackles between us. She doesn’t fight me. She spreads and sprawls, raising her arms and tugging her hair out of its bun. Her knees part, so my hardening cock is pressed directly against her soft center. I roll my hips and she moans.

“You want my cock, Red?”

In response, she moans again. Louder. I sit up, pulling my shirt off and tugging down my sweatpants so my dick juts out. Scarlett bites her bottom lip, laser-focused on my growing erection. She’s not wearing a bra. I can see the hard points of her nipples as her body responds.

The leggings she’s wearing are skin-tight. It takes me three jerks to get them down and off. Her soaked underwear comes off next. I move closer, about to push inside, when I realize, “Condoms are upstairs.”

This has always been a tense subject between us. Now that we’re not only having sex, but having it as often as possible, it’s become an increasingly pertinent issue. It’s an ongoing test of trust in each other. Saying you trust someone is one thing. Backing it up with action is another. Especially when transmitting a disease or pregnancy are potential consequences.

“I trust you.” She repeats the same thing she told me four nights ago, outside Proof. And it prompts the same swell of a sensation that feels a lot like love.

I kiss her as she works her way down and around my cock. I’ve never had sex without wearing a condom before. Nothing is dulled. I groan at the sensation of her tight, wet heat contracting around me without any barrier. “Holy shit.”

“It feels different?”

“Yeah,” I breathe, picking up the pace once we’ve both adjusted. “Feels good. You feel so fucking good.”

“It feels different with you,” Scarlett murmurs. I know she’s not talking about the lack of latex between us.

She winds her long legs around my waist, opening up to me even more. We both moan as I slide deeper, hitting a new spot. My breathing quickens as I start to feel the familiar tingle in my balls. And then I’m coming, harder and longer than I ever have. White spots dot my vision, bringing new meaning to blinding pleasure.

Slowly, reality trickles back into the living room. But I don’t move away from her. Scarlett’s hand threads through my hair, running through the short strands over and over again. I press my lips against the curve of her neck, right where it meets her shoulder. Inhaling her scent and breathing against her skin.

This is new to me too. Intimacy after the physical act of sex. I wasn’t a jerk about it, but I definitely never stuck around to snuggle with anyone else afterward.

“Sophie and Nadia like you,” she tells me.

“They didn’t judge me for falling asleep like an old man?”

I feel her laugh reverberate against my cheek. “No. They both work a lot too. Plus, you don’t look like an old man, so that helps.”

“Is that a compliment, Red?” I tease, tilting my head back so I can see her face.

“Like you don’t know I think you’re hot.”

“I like it when you say it.”

“Fine. You’re hot, okay?”

I smile. “Okay.”

“Sophie wants to get set up with Oliver. She’s planning to break up with Kyle.”

“She’d be better off sticking with the surgeon.”

Scarlett raises a brow. “Why?”

“Remember when you asked about me and Candace?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember what I said?”

“Holy shit. Seriously?”

“Yep.” I pop the P. “My dad is going to find out—if he doesn’t know already—and I’ll get stuck in the middle.”

“Wow.” She hesitates. “Can I ask you something? Totally unrelated to the whole Oliver sleeping with your stepmother drama. I’ve just been meaning to.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“The other night, Asher mentioned your desk. How you don’t like other people touching it. Why?”

“Maybe I just don’t like people touching my stuff,” I tease.

“Is that why?”

I exhale. “No. It was my mom’s desk. She came from money too. Her family had a shipping business. She inherited it and handled a lot of the work—had her own office in the house and everything. My dad sold the company after she died. At the time, I thought he was being callous. Now…” I look over at her. “Now, I think the reminders might have hurt too much.”

There’s a long stretch of silence between us. “Would you sell Haute?”

Talk about a loaded question. And it’s so Scarlett. Testing my feelings for her by discussing business. “No,” I reply. “I wouldn’t.”

She holds my gaze, but I can feel how much she wants to look away. I can tell what she thinks I’m saying.

“I would make sure it thrived because I think that’s what you would want. My father is a coward when it comes to his feelings. I wouldn’t try to forget. I would fight like hell to remember.”

I’ve never seen Scarlett cry. She doesn’t now, but there’s a sheen covering her hazel eyes that suggests she might be close to it. Her hand is still in my hair, and she uses it to tug me closer, until our lips are just a few breaths apart.

“I wouldn’t sell either,” she whispers, before she kisses me.