Mr. Fiancé(64)

“I’m sorry,” Mindy manages, her fingers not letting up on my back, and I wonder if she’s drawing blood.

I growl, squeezing tighter as I speed up, hammering her into the bed until my cock is throbbing deep inside her. Mindy’s squirming, and I speed up until she screams, her pussy clamping tightly around my cock as she comes again. I keep going, ignoring her moans until my cock is ready, and I pull out, groaning as I come and spray her chest with my seed, crying out as the last of my anger is gone and all that’s left is . . . I don’t know.

I sag, sitting on the bed and shaking my head, saying nothing. I lie down and stare at the ceiling, both guilty and totally shaken to my core. I’ve never been that rough before, and I certainly have never come that hard before. My heart aches in my chest, my thighs tremble, and I don’t know what to say.

Tell her you love her, you damn idiot! Tell her that somewhere along the line, maybe Tuesday or so, you fell in love with her for real! Tell her that she’s worth more than all that money, she’s worth the entire fucking world!

I roll to the side, but before I can say anything, Mindy gets up. Reaching down, she finds the shredded remains of her shirt and wipes herself off before balling it up and tossing it uncaringly in the chair. “Mindy . . .”

She looks at me, and in her eyes, I see something that chills me all the way to the depths of my soul. She looks dead. Her doll’s eyes have no emotion left in them. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you,” she says almost robotically. “I know this was all supposed to be fake. But somewhere along the line, I started to feel like it was real. It was a mistake, and though we just had sex, I know it was just sex. But . . . I just don’t want to fight anymore. So please, no more words tonight, Oliver. No more pain.”

I open my mouth to tell her that I do truly love her and that if she loves me too, maybe we can make something out of this fucking mess. But before I can, she turns away. “After the wedding, you’re free to never speak to me again. Actually . . . after we get back home, I don’t want to see you again. It’ll hurt too goddamn much.”

She walks into the bathroom and closes the door, leaving me feeling like I just got punched in the chest, and I roll onto my back, covering my eyes. I lie there for a moment before getting up, pulling on my boxers, and going out to the balcony to stare up at the moon, which doesn’t have any answers either.





Chapter 23





Mindy





“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Mom says, tears shining in her eyes as she looks at me in the mirror. We’re in the dressing room at the reception hall, putting the final touches on what I’m wearing. The wedding begins in fewer than thirty minutes, and Mom’s been fluttering around me all morning. I know she means well, but all she’s doing is making it worse. I’ve been so nervous all morning and so guilt-ridden that I refused breakfast and haven’t been able to talk in anything more than grunts and one-word answers.

My chest is tight as I gaze at myself in the full-length mirror. I look beautiful—even I have to admit it. My hair is pulled to the side and hangs over my right shoulder, letting my back remain bare in my body-hugging lacy white gown. My shoulders are bare, and it’s just a little risqué, with a deep curving V-cut that drops deep between my breasts.

When I was a lonely teenager who didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d stay up and look at bridal magazines. I’d dream about my wedding, how I’d look, and what sort of gown I’d wear. I had it all planned out, the perfect fairytale wedding. And suddenly, so fast I’m still reeling, it’s here. Well, sort of. My eyes filled with tears when I first saw the gown in the bridal shop. I wanted it right away, and I couldn’t stop myself despite my guilt. The perfect gown for the perfect fraud.

“Ha,” Grandma says to Mom, “you never thought you’d see the day? Well how about my old crusty ass?”

“Momma, please,” Mom says, smiling into the mirror. “Don’t make Mindy laugh in the dress. She’s barely got room to breathe as it is. I can see why you skipped breakfast.”

Anxiety is twisting my stomach tighter. I want to say something, but instead, I just turn away from the mirror and put on my high heels. Mom need not worry about me laughing. I haven’t been able to so much as crack a smile since I woke up this morning from a fitful hour of sleep. Since last night, my emotions have been running rampant. The hot, angry sex with Oliver last night was amazing. I came deeper and harder than I could have ever imagined. If just a few things would have been different, I’d be smiling and joking just as much as my family is.