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  “You like that?” Leila asks. She didn't sound like she was teasing: as if she could do anything he wouldn’t like.

  “I’m a guy,” he reminded her. “I’m easy.”

  Leila smirked in a way Jonathon knew she was thinking something childish.

  “Oh shut up,” he said.

  She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to protest but then shut it with a click and shrugged. It was at that moment, fleeting regret ran through him that this wasn’t a real marriage.

  Taken by surprise by the unexpected response of his own emotions for his fake wife, Jonathon couldn’t make his voice work. He didn’t want Leila to get the wrong idea, though—didn't want her to stop—so he tightened his grip on Leila’s arms and rocked down.

  Leila grinned at him—message received loud and clear—and lifted her hand from Jonathon’s hip to stroke through his sweat-damp hair. “Gonna feel even better,” she said. “Shall we take this to the bedroom?”

  Jonathon nodded wordlessly. There was really nothing left to say.

  “So desperate,” Leila said, and this time she was teasing, twisting her hand around him in wonderfully agonizing ways. “You’re practically squirming, Jonathon—you’re already half out of your mind and that’s only my hand. I can’t imagine what being inside me is going to do to you.”

  “Conceited much?” he whispered hoarsely.

  “Hey. I tell it like I see it,” she said with a shrug. “Come on.”

  Jonathon hurried forward and scooped Leila up. She uttered a surprised squeak and clung to him as he strode forward to the bedroom. It was time to remind her who had the testosterone in this relationship.

  Relationship?

  He put her down gently just inside the door of her room and they contemplated each other silently.

  “So we doing this or what?” Leila asked at last.

  Jonathon shook his head, but he wasn’t sure what part of that plan he was in disagreement with and his hand was caressing Leila’s thigh through her dress. Without consulting him, that same hand began to inch her dress up out of the way.

  Leila’s breath caught and her hips jerked forward. Jonathon felt it as a spasm ripped through her.

  “You like that?” It was his turn to be smug.

  “Yes,” Leila whispered baldly making Jonathon jump inwardly.

  ‘We’re through the looking glass here people’.

  Jonathon tried to respond and could only manage a faint whimper as Leila’s fingers began their slide down his dick as if she was a blind person with no way to see him but touch. Jonathon closed his eyes as Leila’s finger moved faster against him, pressing repeatedly against that perfect place, and Jonathon couldn't take any more. He reached out beneath her skirt and grasped her thighs in his strong arms. He lifted her up so she was flush against his dick. He reached his own finger into her and caressed that sensitive nub.

  “Oh Christ, fuck me,” she moaned and Jonathon didn't know if she was cussing or literally wanting him to do it. Her voice was a shaking, hoarse thing—demanding and begging all at once—and a broken plea continued to fall from her lips. “Fuck me—God, right here—now—want to feel you, want you inside me—Jonathon—fuck me, please—I want—”

  Leila made a choked noise and clung to him. The keening whine that slipped from Jonathon’s throat at her words would be mortifying if he was at all coherent.

  He jerked forward and upward, and just like that, he was wedged as deep inside her as he could go while standing. It wasn’t enough, he needed to be deeper. He lurched forward in the direction of the bed, hoping he could get there without mishap. He felt like he had no control over his limbs. Luckily his legs hit the edge and they both dropped; Jonathon already thrusting harder and faster into her so that he pushed her to the head of the bed just from his movements.

  “Just for me,” he said, tripping the words over each other in his haste. “Come on, Leila; let go, baby. So beautiful like this, so goddamned perfect—mine, my Leila, my—fucking gorgeous—”

  Leila held on to him so tight he could feel her nails marking up his naked back. The sensation was driving him over the edge and he shuddered all over, feeling any and all control leave him as Leila spasmed around him in continuous, shivering waves of heat. He let himself go, feeling his vision white out as his gonads emptied.

  Wife.

  “Oh my God,” Jonathon said faintly.

  Jonathon fell silent for a second, and then he asked, “If I let go of you long enough to clean us up, will you still be here when I get back?”

  “Where would I go?”

  Jonathon shrugged, “You could disappear to our half-renovated apartment.”

  Leila snorted, “Yeah, that’d work. Why are you expecting a freak out?”

  “Well in case you hadn’t noticed, the terms of our agreement have been shredded.”

  Leila looked thoughtful, “Yeah, that’s a good point.”

  It didn’t seem to bother her too much though.

  In fact, she surged forward and kissed him again. Licking into him deep and steadying with an underlying fire that had Jonathon wishing he were sixteen again, with a sixteen-year-old’s recovery time. The sparking desire should freak him out more, but instead it was making him think about all the things he wanted to do to Leila.

  When Leila finally eased back, she eyed Jonathon cautiously. Ready to take more drastic action if that minor distraction didn’t work.

  Jonathon swallowed and then rasped, “Okay, I’m good.”

  Leila laughed and then used Jonathon’s discarded shirt to clean up a little bit.

  Chapter 9

  Raychelle came home on Saturday and Leila dropped the file of nurses into her lap.

  “Listen Mrs. Masters,” she said sternly, hands on hips. “You’re a phenomenal woman; strong, resilient and self-sufficient. But you’re also a sick woman, and you need some help. So here is a file of the finest respiratory nurses we can find; choose one to help you out.”

  Raychelle looked at the file and then up at her, “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I choose for you; and nobody’s happy.”

  Raychelle sighed as deeply as she could, leaned back and opened the file. Leila smiled and went to her own kitchen to prepare some cappuccino in the new cappuccino maker Jonathon had just installed. The doctors had said caffeine was good for her mother’s chest so that was an added bonus. She was planning on spending the night in her old apartment rather than her new one since Jonathon wouldn’t even be home tonight. Something about wanting to get some paperwork out of the way somewhere in LA. Leila hadn’t really been paying attention. He had asked her to buy a dress because his grandfather was coming to town tomorrow, to meet her. She could attempt to care about making a good impression but she’d kind of gotten the impression that James Maitland was a dick so she couldn’t really be bothered.

  Besides, good sex or not, their deal was for two years of marriage so there was no point in becoming invested.

  *****

  James Maitland was staying at the Four Seasons and he invited them to his suite for dinner. Since Jonathon had mentioned something about needing to decorate, James informed him that he would save him the embarrassment of having to display substandard premises by hosting the dinner. He expected them at seven on the dot.

  “Leila, you need to hurry up or we’ll be late,” Jonathon said tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for her in the hall.

  “Coming,” Leila said not matching actions to words.

  “James is a stickler for time Leila, you have five minutes to get out here or else…” Jonathon said.

  “Or else what?” she sounded supremely amused.

  “Or else you don’t get to suck my dick when we get back,” Jonathon said threateningly.

  “Oh ma gaad; how will I survive?” Leila said laughing as she strolled out of the bedroom fastening her earrings. Jonathon looked her up and down, admiring how the azure blue of her dress brought out her dark skin.

  “Y
ou’re beautiful,” he said.

  “I know,” she replied smugly.

  “Shall we?” Jonathon said holding out his arm.

  “We shall,” Leila replied taking it.

  *****

  James Maitland did a double take when he saw Leila. He recovered quite fast but his initial reaction was not lost on either Jonathon or Leila. She shook it off and sat down, handing off her coat to James’ personal butler the hotel had provided. He deposited her coat somewhere and came back with a flute of champagne for both herself and Jonathon. James already had a glass. Leila was surprised they were toasting given his reaction.

  “I like to have a glass of champagne before dinner,” James told her, blowing her theory out of the water, “It settles my stomach.”

  “That’s nice,” Leila said taking a sip. She looked at Jonathon and found that he was looking at her. He rolled his eyes at her and she struggled to keep a straight face. The butler came by to announce dinner was served so they all trooped to the dining table the butler had set up. Jonathon pulled her chair out for her and Leila sat down, with a smile at him.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. He took the seat next to her rather than opposite and Leila knew he was trying to act as a protective buffer between her and his grandfather. She was grateful for it but didn’t really feel it was necessary. She was pretty sure she’d dealt with divas worse than him.

  Dinner was relatively uneventful; James asked her some polite questions about her work and family and how long she’d known his grandson. Jonathon mostly fielded those questions but Leila tried to chime in as well so it didn’t look like he was trying to shield her so obviously.

  After coffee and desert was cleared away, James turned to her.

  “Leila my dear, would you mind very terribly if my driver took you home? I have some things I need to discuss with Jonny here,” he twinkled his eyes at her in a ‘doting grandfather’ sort of way and Leila thought he must have been a great actor in his day. He nailed it.

  “Sure,” she said, leaning in to kiss Jonathon on the cheek, “I’ll see you at home.” She stood up and walked to the door, where a doorman was waiting to take her down to the car. Clearly this was a pre-planned sort of thing.

  *****

  “What can Simon get you? Whiskey? Gin?” James asked once they were alone.

  “Just water is fine thank you,” Jonathon said. Okay, maybe him not wanting to be drunk for this might raise his grandfather’s suspicions but he still wanted to be sober for this next part.

  James nodded at Simon who brought a bottle of sparkling water and a glass for Jonathon, “So what did you want to talk about?”

  “I never married you know,” he began.

  “Indeed,” Jonathon said.

  “I almost did; one time. She was an actress, I was a producer on a film she was auditioning on. She seduced me. It was only after the movie came out and she broke up with me that I realized she was using me,” he said.

  “Wow, that is cold,” Jonathon commiserated, whistling softly.

  James shrugged, “I learned my lesson. Now I use my head, instead of my heart to make decisions.”

  “I try to do that too,” Jonathon said though his heart sunk to know that he wasn’t really doing a good job of it. James nodded.

  “That’s good. That’s good,” he murmured.

  They sat in silence for a while and then suddenly James stirred and turned to Jonathon.

  “I have a proposition for you Jonny,” he said.

  Jonathon straightened up in his seat, “Shoot.”

  James sighed, “What I asked of you; it was unreasonable of me. Also hypocritical.”

  Jonathon’s brows shot up, wondering what his grandfather was going on about.

  “I never should have made that marriage proviso. There are other ways you could have proved your worth.”

  Jonathon stared at him.

  “So I’m going to release you from that obligation. In fact, I’m going to let you dissolve this so-called marriage you’ve gotten yourself into; and you can still keep your inheritance.”

  Jonathon couldn’t stop staring. “What if I decline?” he asked. “What if I’m content in my so-called marriage?”

  James laughed, “This is not a trick Jonathon. You can have the money. You don’t need to stay married.”

  “That’s good to know James,” Jonathon said.

  James relaxed, leaning back on his couch and sipping his scotch, “So, you’ll dissolve this marriage?”

  “No,” Jonathon said much to his own surprise. “I’m fine being married thanks.”

  James Maitland frowned, “Okay then son, let me put it another way; if you don’t get your marriage dissolved, you don’t get one red cent from me.”

  Jonathon stared at him and almost burst out laughing. He refrained himself though, because he was pretty sure his grandfather would not take it well.

  “You told me, that I had to get married by thirty, if I wanted to keep my inheritance. Now you’re telling me I have to be divorced right away to keep my inheritance? What’s with the shifting goal posts?”

  “I realize I made you tie yourself to a woman simply for the purpose of meeting a deadline. I’m just giving you an out.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” he said.

  “Not kind. Practical. You can’t let just anybody into the family you know.”

  “Just anybody?” Jonathon asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What if Leila isn’t just ‘anybody’?” Jonathon asked, his back up even before he knew that he was insulted.

  James smiled, “Jonny, Jonny, Jonny, how dumb do you think I am? You meet a girl on Monday, you’re married to her by Friday…you don’t think I can put two and two together?”

  Jonathon stayed silent, confronted with the prospect of losing Leila, of letting her go with no harm, no foul. He keeps all the money and the leash is off his neck…he smiled, pondering the irony of it. If only his grandfather had made this offer two weeks ago…or maybe last month before he came to Atlanta and met the force of nature known as Leila Masters.

  *****

  Jonathon rang the bell instead of using his key. Leila was still up, curiously unable to sleep without him next to her. She hurried to the door, wondering why he didn’t just come in. She opened the door to find him disheveled and unkempt, shirt untucked and hair mussed. If Leila didn’t know better, she’d suspect he’d just come from a strip club or something.

  “Hey,” he said blearily, leaning against the door.

  “Jonathon. What’s going on?”

  “I want a divorce,” Jonathon said.

  *****

  After Jonathon left his grandfather, he stopped off at the hotel bar to have a real drink. It was quiet at that time of night – Four Seasons residents apparently not being much for hanging in bars when they had perfectly good mini bars in their rooms. He ordered a double tot of whiskey and called his mother.

  “Hey ma,” he whispered into the phone.

  “Jonny what’s wrong?” she said at once.

  Jonathon laughed, “You know me so well.”

  “Yes I do, so tell me what’s happening quickly before I have to swallow my anxiety medication.”

  “I just had dinner with James,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah…and well, I guess he wasn’t too impressed with Leila.”

  “Why do you say that? Leila is a lovely girl.”

  “He didn’t say why. He did tell me that he releases me from the obligation of being married in order to collect my inheritance.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “Yeah,” Jonathon said miserably. “Ma what do I do?”

  “Do you want to be released from your marriage?”

  Jonathon shook his head, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t see him. “Oh did I mention that he said if I continue to be married, I get nothing?”

  “Oh,” his mama said again and then there was silence.

  “Ma?” Jonathon
prompted.

  “Did I ever tell you about your father and James? They did not get along,” Jaime said.

  “No shit. I kind of got that from the years of not seeing him when I was growing up.”

  “No, it was worse than that. It wasn’t just him and Tommy being different…he tried to break us up.”

  Jonathon was silent, listening intently.

  It had been just after Tommy got his fireman’s license that he’d made the trip to LA to ask Jaime’s father for her hand in marriage. He was an old fashioned kind of guy who respected tradition; and he wanted to do this right. He hadn’t told Jaime what he was doing; just said he was going out of town for training. When he got to LA, he called James and asked to meet him for lunch. James agreed, though he was clearly not happy about it and they met at a local restaurant. Tommy was nervous and James was not making it any better with his pointed questions and snarky comments. Finally, Tommy asked the question he’d come to ask, still fairly sure that he would get a positive response. He was a good man after all.

  “Over my dead body,” James told him.

  Tommy had left LA devastated, wondering if it was the end of his relationship with the woman he loved. He told Jaime everything because she was his friend as well as his lover and she had a right to choose. She chose him; her father cut her off. She was fine with that – Tommy wanted to support his family himself anyway. They only reconciled after 9/11 when Jonathon called his grandfather to come help them out.

  “I didn’t know that Ma,” Jonathon said. “About Dad going to LA I mean.”

  “There was no need for you to know,” Jaime replied gently.

  “God, I miss him,” Jonathon said.

  “Yes. Me too,” Jaime replied sadly.

  *****

  “Excuse me what?” Leila said freezing at the door.

  “I want a divorce Leila, as soon as possible,” Jonathon said still leaning drunkenly against the door jamb.

  “Get your ass in here. How much have you had to drink?” Leila asked manhandling him into the apartment and closing the door behind him. “Now go take a shower and I’ll make some coffee and we’ll discuss this like rational, sober, human beings,” she continued, pushing him down the hall as she did so. He was resistant to her urging; trying to find purchase for his feet so he could stop walking but unable to do it.