Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(64)

Another day, I decided to take a chance and went over to his place. He answered the door wearing an open shirt, the fly of his jeans undone. For a second, my heart stopped beating, because he looked like he’d just been rolling around in bed with someone. However, when he saw me, his expression smouldered, and he dragged me to his bedroom. There was nobody there.

“I was just thinking about you,” he confessed.

“Oh?”

His gaze darkened. “And touching myself.”

Something I’d learned about Julian. He had an insatiable sexual appetite, and he’d awakened the same in me. Tiny little things could arouse me; the swish of fabric against my skin, a cool breeze tickling the back of my neck.

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself, too, Ellen?” he asked in a quiet, sensual voice. He palmed my breast over my top and I ran my hands down his bare abdomen. I loved the ripple of his muscular form, the heat that emanated from him whenever we touched.

“Yes.” My whispered confession lit a spark in him and he lowered himself between my legs. Going down on me seemed to be a favourite of his. He told me it wasn’t something he often did with clients, and though it reminded me that what we were doing was still a business arrangement, it did make me feel wanted.

And feeling wanted was a new sensation for me.

I’d been thinking about returning the favour for a while, but I’d never given a blow job before. I even looked up some tutorials online, but the right moment never came, and I was too nervous, worried I’d do it wrong and either embarrass myself or end up hurting him.

Julian’s sexual MO seemed to be all about pleasuring the woman, which wasn’t surprising given his job, but it meant I never really got a chance to explore his body like I wanted to.

The day after I showed up at his place, I found Julian on my doorstep. I’d paid a visit to the corner shop, and when I returned, there he was.

“Missed you,” he said, sitting on the steps that led to my door.

I had butterflies thinking of him missing me. He pressed a kiss to my lips and I led him inside.

“I’ve never asked who painted your walls,” Julian commented as he followed me into the kitchen.

“Oh, I painted them,” I replied while I put away my purchases.

His gaze went from the mural by the birdcage to me in disbelief. “Seriously?”

I shrugged. “I’ve always loved to paint. It’s my second favourite pastime after writing. I actually considered going to art school, but then chose English Literature at Cambridge instead. I’m a passable artist. My real talent was always writing, making up stories.”

“I’d say you’re a bit more than passable, Ellen,” Julian said, his eyes still on the mural. “You’re a woman of hidden talents. Cambridge, eh?”

“You should’ve seen me the day I got my acceptance letter. I don’t think I’d ever been happier. It was too bad I didn’t get more involved in college life. I mostly hid in my dorm room and studied, read books.”

Julian’s expression was playful. He came and placed his hands on my hips, gazing down at me. “If I were there, I would’ve lured you out.”

“Oh, really. And how might you have done that?”

His hands moved down over my backside, lightly squeezing before he bent to capture my lips in a hot, languid kiss. He proceeded to show me exactly how he might’ve lured me out of said dorm room. I couldn’t believe this was my life now, a series of sexy, seductive interludes throughout what used to be a pretty uneventful work week.

The day before my book signing arrived and I went into a bit of a meltdown. I hadn’t told anyone I was doing it, not my dad or my brothers, not even Julian. If I had told Dad, he’d want to come and support me, but somehow that just felt like more pressure. Besides, I was on a knife’s edge over whether or not to cancel.

But then I kept thinking about the five hundred people who’d bought tickets. I repeat, five hundred people! I couldn’t let them down. The idea made me feel sick to my stomach. No, I would do this, even if it killed me, but I could definitely use some help.

Julian’s phone rang for only a few seconds before he answered. “Hello, Ellen.” When he spoke to me, his voice was always so intimate. It sent a tremor through me every time

“I need you.”

His tone heated. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“No!” I blurted. “I mean, not like that. Well, yes like that. But right now, I need you for another reason.”

Now he was all business. “Say no more. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

I was already pacing the hallway by the time Julian knocked on my door. I opened it quickly and he stepped inside. He wore a white T-shirt, black jeans, and a Fedora with a green feather. I loved his quirky dress sense. Ever since I created Elodie, I’d become addicted to online shopping and finding unique pieces. Julian’s style was effortless.

“I’m here for whatever you need,” he said.

I inhaled a deep breath, met his gaze, then exhaled. “I have a book signing tomorrow.” Even saying the words made my stomach twist with dread.

His eyebrows jumped. “You do?”

I nodded, chewed on my thumbnail and led him into the living room. I sat on the couch and Julian lowered to sit beside me. “A couple of weeks ago, I impulsively went to meet with my agent, Daniel.” A pause as I eyed him. “I went dressed as Elodie.”