It's Only Make-Believe (2 page)

BOOK: It's Only Make-Believe
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"Me?"

She practically bounced in the chair in excitement. "Sure.

If the woman you're in love with sees you with me, she might get jealous, too, and realize what she's missing."

He almost told her the truth, but stopped himself with effort. The sky would probably fall first. Still the possibility of a few dates with the object of his desire couldn't be a bad thing, could it?

"Sebastian? Look, forget it. I can see you don't like the idea. I can find someone else," Melody said, rising from the chair.

"No." There was that stupid eagerness again. "I'll do it."

A bright smile lit her beautiful face. "You will? Really?"

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It's Only Make-Believe

by Shawn Lane

"I still think it's brainless and idiotic," he said, "but I am at your disposal."

"Great. Are you free tonight?"

Yes, his cock tried to speak up. "Yes. What do you have in mind?"

"We could go to dinner, and then there's this little jazz club Luther sometimes hangs at. We could go there."

He loathed jazz almost as much as country. "Sure. Sounds great."

"Thanks, Sebastian. Don't worry," she said, pausing to laugh, "it's only make-believe."

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14

It's Only Make-Believe

by Shawn Lane

CHAPTER 2

The doorbell to her townhouse rang precisely at seven. Mel grabbed her little black purse and went to the door.

"Right on time," she said.

Sebastian shrugged. "I pride myself on promptness."

Mel smiled up at him. Geez, he was tall. She always knew he towered over her five-foot-six frame, but somehow outside the office he seemed even taller.

His light brown hair was carefully groomed without a single strand out of place. She quickly noted he'd chosen to wear a navy shirt that complemented his blue eyes. Mel blinked. This close, she could see they were a deep sapphire. And if she wasn't mistaken, the shirt was silk. She dropped her gaze and saw he was wearing black dress pants. What had she expected out of Sebastian? Jeans and a T-shirt? Not hardly.

"Shall we?"

"Just let me grab my sweater," Melody said. "Could be cool later."

He turned and headed to his waiting car. Her gaze followed. He had a very nice broad back. Great body, really.

And that ass. Yum. Whoever he was in love with must be a complete idiot. Mel shook her head.

He waited at his Lexus for her and opened the passenger door.

She laughed. "I can open my own door, Sebastian.

Remember, this isn't a real date."

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It's Only Make-Believe

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He shrugged again, got in, and started the car. "Where do you want to have dinner? I know this English pub in Santa Monica."

She wrinkled her nose. "English food? Honey, there's a reason you're all so skinny. You all don't even want to eat that stuff." Melody laughed.

She thought about it for a minute. She'd decided to dress in black leggings and a white blouse. Couldn't go wrong with ebony and ivory, she'd decided with a chuckle. But if she suggested Italian food, with her luck she'd splatter red sauce all over her white blouse.

"Okay, so where?" His tone was a bit impatient.

"You got a bit grumpy in the last few hours." Mexican food would mean salsa, also red and messy. She knew a soul food restaurant or two, but after she dissed his English food Mel suspected he wouldn't be open to the suggestion.

"It's not our last meal, Melody. Make a decision." He taped his long fingers on the steering wheel.

"Are you always this charming on dates?" She sighed.

"How about Marv's Café?"

"Done."

* * * *

Dinner hadn't been too awkward, Mel decided as she slid into the booth in the corner of the jazz club. This was her favorite seat in the place because she could see the entire club, including the entrance. So far she didn't spot Luther in the throng of mostly African-American patrons.

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It's Only Make-Believe

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Sebastian frowned. "Are these seats made out of pleather?"

"What?" Melody asked, returning her attention to him.

"The booth seats. These aren't real leather, are they?"

"You really are a snob, Sebastian. Loosen up."

They'd spent most of dinner talking about their respective childhoods—his in London and hers in South Central Los Angeles. Two completely different worlds, but they'd laughed about their differences. Neither one of them had been unhappy.

A waiter in tight black pants, white shirt, and black vest came to take their drink orders. Mel ordered a chocolate martini and Sebastian ordered a glass of chardonnay.

"And just how am I supposed to loosen up?"

"Well, for starters"—she waved her hand at him—"look at you. You always dress like you expect to be on the best dressed list. Do you even own a pair of jeans?"

"I—"

She laughed. "It's okay. I guess it's just you."

His mouth thinned for a moment and he tapped his fingers on the table.

"So where's the stud?" Sebastian gazed around the room.

"I don't see him yet," Melody admitted. She was pretty sure he would be here, though. Luther spent most of his Saturday nights here. She'd been here more than a few times with him. As a matter of fact, she had been surprised when he didn't ask her for this weekend.

"I hope I don't have to sit here listening to jazz for nothing," Sebastian grumbled.

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It's Only Make-Believe

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Mel sighed. "Would you rather leave? I can take a cab home."

"No."

"What kind of music do you like? Don't tell me country."

She smiled at the waiter who set their drinks down in front of them.

Sebastian shuddered. "Definitely not."

"Oh, Lord, you're into classical, huh? Have you got nothing but Beethoven and Mozart on your mp3 player?"

"Actually no. I like rock, punk, that sort of thing."

She nodded and sipped her drink. "How about the woman you're in love with? What does she like? Do you know?"

"Look, I never said I was in love with her exactly," he said defensively.

"Well, you said you were in a similar situation to mine,"

Mel reminded him.

"Yes, but really, mine is more—how do you Americans say it?—I have the hots for her."

"Oh, so you mean it's all about sex." Mel rolled her eyes.

She should have known. Men were all the same.

"No, not necessarily."

"You just said you have the hots for her and you aren't in love. What else is it?"

Sebastian shifted in the booth. "Sure it's about sex to an extent, but it could turn into more if she showed any interest.

That's what I mean."

"Well, shit, Sebastian, you're a great looking guy. Why don't you just ask her if she wants to have no-commitment sex with you and get it over with?"

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It's Only Make-Believe

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Hell, what woman in their right mind wouldn't have sex with him? She took another sip of her martini. That awesome body, drop-dead gorgeous face. She licked her lips and tasted the chocolate liqueur.

"Is it warm in here to you?" she blurted out.

"Um, yes, a bit."

"Hi, Mel."

They both looked up suddenly. There, standing at their booth, was Luther. She hadn't even seen him come into the club. The man of her dreams was dressed casually with his white shirt opened at the throat revealing a hint of his chest and the hair that grew there. He had a beautiful smile on his dark chocolate face.

"Luther, hello. May I introduce Sebastian Kincaid? Luther Winthrop."

"Hey, man," Luther said, holding out his hand. Sebastian shook it. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"Sebastian loves jazz, so I thought I'd bring him here," Mel lied with a huge smile.

Luther glanced at Sebastian. "Well, hey, that's cool. I came in with some friends." He gestured to a table several booths away. "Enjoy your night. Mel, I'll call you later in the week."

"Great. Enjoy yours, too." She frowned as soon as he walked away.

"What's wrong?"

"He didn't appear to be very jealous, did he?"

Sebastian glanced down at Luther's table. "Not particularly, no."

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It's Only Make-Believe

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"Maybe we should dance," Mel said, watching the couples on the dance floor swaying to the smooth song the band played.

"Dance?" He looked like she'd suggested he eat a bug.

Mel got up and grabbed his hand, giving him no chance to protest.

* * * *

Okay, Sebastian, you can do this.

If he didn't stand too close, maybe she wouldn't notice his cock jutting out at attention. Leave it to her to mention asking for no-commitment sex. Now all he could think about was fucking her on the bloody stupid table.

If Luther hadn't interrupted when he did, Sebastian might have suggested sex to Melody. Probably would have laughed in his face, too.

"Closer," Melody urged. "We're supposed to be a couple on a date, remember?"

She tugged on him and stepped several inches closer, putting her arms around his neck.

All right, dead puppies. Er, limbless corpses. Court briefs.

Damn, it didn't work. His erection pressed into her.

Her sultry brown eyes widened and her mouth formed an o. She stared at him.

"Just trying to make it look real for Luther?" he suggested lamely.

Screw it. In for a penny in for a pound, as it were.

He lowered his lips to hers, just a brush at first. Testing the waters. When she didn't slap him or pull away, he pressed 20

It's Only Make-Believe

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his lips to hers in a longer kiss. She moved closer and opened her mouth. No way would he pass up such an invitation. His tongue plunged ahead.

Moving his hands from her waist down, he grabbed her ass and ground his pelvis into hers. She moaned low in her throat. Good Lord, if he didn't stop he
would
be taking her on the nearest table.

He nibbled her bottom lip and she pressed herself even closer, if that were possible.

"You two get a room," someone called. Laughter followed.

Melody broke away from him then, putting a wide gap between them, and laughed herself. Then she pulled his hand to lead him back to their booth, glancing over her shoulder.

"Do you think he saw us?"

Ding, ding, reality check, Sebastian. She couldn't care less
about you.

"Yeah, I'm sure he saw us," he mumbled. He finished off his glass of wine in one large swallow.

What a chump. His cock's only entertainment for the night would be his own hand.

[Back to Table of Contents]

21

It's Only Make-Believe

by Shawn Lane

CHAPTER 3

Mel told herself it didn't bother her it was almost eight-thirty on Monday and still no sign of Sebastian. He was always there an hour earlier.

It didn't help she'd spent all of Sunday thinking about him.

Why?

"You're in love with Luther," she reminded herself. She hit send on the email she'd been typing.

It was probably that kiss he'd planted on her at the club.

She hadn't expected him to go so far as to kiss her. Lord, the man could kiss.

She got up from her desk, went out into the hallway, and took the few steps to where Sebastian's secretary sat.

"Did he call in?" Mel felt foolish asking, as she'd already asked the same stupid question a half-hour ago.

Shelly shrugged. "Nope, haven't heard from him. Weird.

He's always here before I am."

What did she care? So his kiss was hot. Okay, hotter than hot. She wanted Luther. And besides, Sebastian was in love with someone else. Not to mention, Melody berated herself, she didn't date white guys.

Mel turned to go back to her office and stopped, frozen.

Sebastian walked down the hall in her direction, but he wasn't the normal Sebastian in the Armani suits. This Sebastian twin wore a tight fitting black T-shirt that showed off his bulging biceps. And ... jeans.
Whoa.
They looked like they had been custom-made to fit him. His light brown hair, 22

It's Only Make-Believe

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normally so carefully combed in place, looked like he'd just gotten out of bed and run his fingers through it. Or someone had.

"Who is that?" Shelly whispered, sticking her head out from behind her computer to gape.

With him almost to them now, Melody noticed his sexy five o'clock shadow. She was certain her jaw dropped as far as Shelly's.

"Morning." He gave them a wink and went past them to his office.

Mel and Shelly stared at his ass.

Shelly cleared her throat. "Maybe ... maybe I should see if he wants me, um, to bring him some coffee or something."

Mel licked her lips. "I'll go see, Shelly."

"But..."

Mel didn't wait for Shelly to finish her protest. She walked to Sebastian's office, knocked once, and opened the door.

His back to her, he was bent over a filing cabinet going through files. Her gaze went once more to his jean-encased ass.

Get a grip, Mel. You're his boss.

"What's up, Shell?" he asked without turning around.

"Not Shelly."

He straightened and turned around. She squelched her disappointment at the loss of his ass, but was soon rewarded with a sexy-as-sin grin.

"Oh, hey."

Say something.
"You're late," she blurted out.

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It's Only Make-Believe

by Shawn Lane

He raised a dark brow. "Not really. I wasn't aware we had set start times."

"Well, I meant you're late for you."

"Right." He nodded, but offered no explanation. He went to his desk and picked up a large donut.

"You don't eat those. You have a bran muffin for breakfast every morning."
Oh great, now it sounds like I'm stalking
him. I know what he eats. Wait, why do I?

He shrugged. "I'm loosening up."

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