The Pretend Girlfriend (39 page)

"I think you smell great," Aiden said.

"Come on, let's get you out of those clothes, I always did want my own real, live Ken doll," Gwen said. The black suit really did remind her of James Bond. He was being all suave and charming, and oh so very pleased with himself for organizing this little adventure.

But he couldn't be allowed to have all the fun. When he frowned, she smiled. Gwen reminded herself that they were being followed, that they risked public humiliation and lampooning. Her sense of adventure clashed with that warning. She hadn't felt this exhilarated in, well, ever.

First stop was women's clothing. Aiden became her walking clothes rack while she piled on blouses, skirts, jeans, shorts, and other bits to try on. And, to her surprise, Aiden didn't tell her the old standby of, "Yeah, that looks good on you. Let's go," every time she came out of the stall wearing a different outfit. He actually considered each.

So finally, when she modeled a pair of fitted jeans and a nice white tee with a v-neck, he smiled and said, "That's it! Just leave it on, unless you plan on changing again in the street," It was probably the plainest outfit she'd chosen. But it was also the most classic. The fitted clothes showed off the feminine lines of her body, which Aiden made no secret of admiring. She preened beneath his hard-earned approval.

It was nice to be out of that wrinkled dress. Gwen liked the feeling of new clothes, so crisp and sharp, not dulled or stretched from use. Looking back at the mirror, she had to agree with Aiden's assessment. There was nothing quite like finding a pair of jeans that really made your waist look small and your butt cute.

And then it was his turn. She had to pull him away from the racks of suits and tie display tables. They'd be expecting a tall guy in a dark suit.

What they got instead was a tall guy in a sky-blue, tailored button down that really set off his eyes, a pair of deep navy boot-cut jeans, and brown dress shoes to match his belt.

"Are these bell bottoms?" he asked with suspicion, inspecting one ankle and then the other.

Gwen stood back so she could get a really good view of him. She looked upon her work, and it was good. The tailored shirt really displayed the breadth of his shoulders, and leaving the top button undone in that casual way so that you got the barest hint of the nice pecs beneath left her hot and a little faint.
Maybe I made him too sexy
, she thought, smiling at the irony. Every eye was going to be on him on the street.

"No, they're boot-cut."

"But I'm not wearing boots?" he said.

"That's okay. Now let's get out of here," she said. She couldn't wait to be alone with him again. It was funny; she'd spent all that time picking out the clothes for him, admiring him in them, and now all she wanted to do was tear them all off.

The checkout was a fun experience. The cashier, an old lady with curly hair the same blue as cigarette smoke, just stared at them when they came up. She had to come around the till with her little blinking scanner gun as Gwen and Aiden searched their clothes for tags she could scan.

They did get a bag, though, for their old stuff. When the cashier saw the label on Aiden's suit jacket, her eyes bulged. Gwen knew she had to think they were crazy. That jacket alone cost more than their entire purchase. Several times over, actually.

They began walking away, shiny Macy's bag slung over Gwen's shoulder, when the cashier said, "Hey, you look familiar."

Aiden flinched, turning the expression into a smile when he faced her. "Let me guess, I look like a young Brad Pitt? I get that a lot."

Gwen's smile became forced. He deserved a poke in the ribs for that, but that would probably just rouse the cashier's suspicions even more.

"No..." the old lady said, squinting at them, "Were you two on one of those news shows?"

Gwen glanced at the ceiling, sending a silent prayer to any higher being that might be listening. It would be just the thing to have this brilliant escape plan ruined by some old woman's curiosity.

Then Aiden glanced around conspiratorially. "You got us," he said, offering his hand.

"Hey!" Gwen started. What was he doing?

The cashier accepted, falling right into his trap. Immediately, Aiden held her hand with both of his. She looked down, alarmed. "What... what's this?"

"You're right. We host one of those programs. We were just... snooping around, maybe looking for a good candid no-makeup shot, or a surprise interview. Our viewers just adore those!"

"I knew it!" the cashier said, concern spreading across her face as she realized that he wasn't about to let her hand go. Then she eyed them both again. "Where's your camera?"

Gwen came to the rescue, pulling her cell out of her purse, "Right here! It looks like a normal phone, but it's actually got a really nice camera. Want me to take a picture of you? We could probably get it up on the show, or the website." Her pulse pounded against her temples.

The cashier's eyes became two large saucers, "On the interweb? Me?" she said, fear adding a quiver to her voice. "No, that's fine, really. I think I should get back to work..."

"It's really no trouble at all. Are you sure?" Aiden said.

"Yes, thank you. Have a nice day!" the cashier said.

"If you insist..." Aiden said, freeing her hand from his grasp. She snatched it back and massaged her palm with her thumb.

They made their retreat after that. Out on the street, Gwen looked up at the portion of the Empire State visible over the facades of the other buildings, feeling nostalgic about their time alone up there. After all this stuff with the paparazzi was over, she hoped he took her back there.

His hand on her shoulder pulled her from her daydream. "Let's get off the streets."

So they took their third taxi that morning. Aiden wanted to go to a hotel. She expected the Waldorf or the Plaza. Instead, he asked the driver to take them to the NYLO hotel.

They checked in at the front desk as Mr. and Mrs. Bond. Gwen's idea. The auditor asked them why they didn't have any luggage, and Aiden quickly added that the useless airline had lost it.

The sympathetic auditor then upgraded them to a corner suite with a nice with of Broadway. Gwen flicked on the flat screen mounted to the wall and then plopped down on the king-sized bed with its many pillows while Aiden sat in the wingback next to the window.

The news played in the background as the two of them came down from high created by their recent (mis)adventures. Luckily for them, the news was CSPAN, so it didn't really mention any celebrity gossip.

The bed was definitely nice. Gwen found she liked king-size. Especially when you had company. It gave you the room to really spread out.

Though she seemed to recall spooning all night with Aiden, which somewhat negated the mattress size. Even so, she did not look forward to going back to the double waiting for her back in her own bedroom.

Were there camera crews at her place, too? Probably, Gwen figured. Henry had that dossier chock-full of info about her. If she ever forgot her social, she could probably give him a call and get it.

That got her thinking about her phone, and Aiden's. Smartphones were wonderful things. You could check Facebook, your email, play games, all that stuff. She'd even used it several times at stores that accepted digital coupons. They also had GPS.

Shifting, she grabbed her phone and turned it off. In movies where people don't want to be tracked, they usually smash their phones on the floor or something. But Gwen wasn't about to do that; she still owed money on the thing!

"What are you doing?" Aiden asked.

"Do you think he's tracking our phones?" Gwen said.

"Possibly. It'll probably take a while, though."

"How do you figure?"

Aiden stood and stretched. It emphasized his back nicely. Coming around to her side of the bed, he sat down at her side. Her shirt had ridden up a bit, exposing her belly to just above her navel. Aiden put his hand on the strip of bare skin.

"That's nice..." Gwen said, experiencing a now-familiar tingle as the warmth of his touch soaked into her body.

"Well, I deactivated the GPS on my phone this morning. And last night, I did the same thing on yours when I got up to get a glass of water."

"How thoughtful..." Gwen said, writhing like a cat at his touch. She didn't really care about the GPS thing anymore. That heat from his hand had traveled down to a much more sensitive area. Her nice new clothes suddenly felt so restrictive and tight.

"So... Mr. Bond," Gwen said, tracing her fingertip along his jaw line. A small amount of stubble had grown since he'd shaved that morning. The rough texture of it left Gwen even hotter than before.

"Yes, Mrs. Bond?" Aiden replied, letting his fingers slide up beneath her shirt to reveal more of her stomach.

"How do you propose we spend our first day in New York together?" she said. She began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Well, first I thought we could walk up and down Broadway. Then maybe go see the Statue of Liberty..."

Hooking her fingers into his shirt, Gwen said, "I have a better idea." Then she pulled him down onto her. Their lips met, and she ran her hands down his back, wanting to get that shirt off.

She tore at his new clothes, lost in her desires. A button popped off, pinging against the nightstand. Aiden grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"What?" she said, indignant, expecting some sort of lecture.

Instead Aiden grabbed hold of his new shirt and tore it open himself, the remaining buttons flying off in random directions like fragments from a grenade.

Gwen touched his bared abdominals, letting her fingers run up to his pectorals and finally his shoulders so that she could pull him back down. His mouth tasted sweet, and she wanted more of it.

All that excitement from the morning added up to this moment, this hunger they both experienced. Apparently nothing got her going like being chased through Manhattan streets at rush hour by the paparazzi.

Lust made Aiden's fingers clumsy when he tried popping the button on her jeans out, even as Gwen fumbled with his belt buckle.

"I need you," Aiden said, fire flaring in his normally cool eyes. A matching heat lit between Gwen's thighs. She squirmed from the intensity of it, making Aiden's job more difficult.

The sound of her jeans' zipper coming down was the sweetest note in the world to Gwen.

This wasn't some delicate lovemaking session. It was pure, wanton desire. Her body thirsted for his touch, and she sucked in a breath and bit down on his bottom lip when his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties.

He wasted no time teasing her, finding her secret heat. When he felt it, his body trembled.

"I love your hands," Gwen said, her back arching when he pleasured her.

Aiden put his lips right now to her ear, grazing it ever so gently. The heat from his breath sent a shiver down her back. "I love how wet you get for me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Gwen's reaction was instantaneous. His magic hands, the sexy rumble in his voice, the smell of him. She couldn't withstand it. Her entire body tightened up, every fiber and nerve overloaded by the sensations he wrung from her.

Aiden guided her through it, urging her along the path of her climax. He left her sweaty and trembly, barely able to catch her breath.

Despite that, she still peeled off the rest of her clothes (with Aiden's help) and watched in terrible anticipation as he disrobed.

He got a condom (
when did he buy those?
Gwen wondered, dismissing the question immediately. It didn't matter how he got them, only that he did) and took it from the wrapper.

"Let me," Gwen said, sitting up. The cool air of the hotel room brushed against her naked skin.

She rolled it slowly, sensually, down him, relishing the little groans of pleasure he let out. The noises drove her crazy with need, forcing her to work faster.

As soon as she finished, Aiden pushed her down on the bed and climbed over her. She opened her legs for him, inviting him to be with her, demanding that he do so. The heat of her need nearly burned her up with its intensity.

He entered her and she locked her ankles at the small of his back, greedy for him, not giving him the chance to escape. Their bodies shuddered together, and it felt like she could barely contain him. Aiden nuzzled at her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind while she ran her nails up and down his shoulders.

She couldn't get enough of him. Her hands explored his body, squeezing his biceps as they held him over her, running down to his tight bottom and feeling the way it flexed with every thrust.

Soon, he moved so that he could put the crooks of her knees against his shoulders, letting him go even deeper inside of her. He kissed her calves while he told her how good she felt, how he wished they could do this all day every day.

For the second time, Gwen's body succumbed to her climax. It built low in her stomach as a tight ball which then burst in the most incredible, blissful energy. Her toes curled up. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, starbursts of color exploded against her eyelids.

Aiden reached his climax at the same time, groaning with the intensity of it. Both of them gasping for air, Aiden leaned down over her and kissed her neck, eschewing his body's need for breath.

And then he collapsed beside her. Sweat slicked both their naked forms, leaving them glistening in the sunlight coming in through the window. Which they'd forgotten to close. Gwen knew she should be concerned about that, but she was so at peace and tranquil at the moment that it was just a thought disconnected from reality.

Her hand found his and they both dozed, the reporter on CSPAN going on about some economic forecast in the background. But even that didn't get to her.

These were the best moments: those few minutes after being intimate. Everything in the world seemed good and right. And even though her body felt exhausted, her mind and spirit were both rejuvenated, ready to take on anything, to do anything. Colors became more vivid, like the deep burgundy of the arm chair. Smells sharper, like the clean scent of Aiden's sweat.