I received the paperwork within a few days, by mail and e-mail. I read through it all, checking on a few contractual clauses with Daphne, who had access to our legal team at work. We didn't want anyone to know I was the one needing legal counsel.

As discussed, the contract clarified things I'd been wondering about—namely how far I was expected to go with Leo to make this fake-dating believable. "As far as both of you are comfortable," was what the section said, which matched what Cameron had said. It meant we weren't required to sleep together, but it didn't mean no, either.

No matter how many times I read the document, I couldn't decide where my boundaries were. Cameron allowed this—he had to sign the contract, too, being the one who'd introduced Leo and I—and he knew what the stakes were. But would I ever be able to sleep with someone else when I was already sleeping with him and satisfied with it? Getting into bed with Leo would be unnecessary; I had everything I needed already.

And yet...and yet. I still had those fantasies growing within me. The images of Leo ripping my clothes off and tossing me onto a bed and having his way with me. Or of us clinking champagne glasses as we lounged in an oversized tub filled with bubbles. I still had those dreams of him sliding a finger under my skirt while we attended some award show. Or slamming me against a bathroom wall between sets at one of his concerts.

No matter how happy Cameron made me, my mind wandered to Leo and all those what-ifs.

Things started to feel more real when, one morning, as I was getting ready for work, I got a text from Daphne.

Daph: OMG, it's done?! Did you quit and not tell me?

I stared at the screen, eyes watery because of the heavy mascara I'd been applying. "Huh?"

Me: What? No, I didn't?

Daph: Mr. Ivy is lying to everyone and saying he fired you, but I figured...did Leo get you out of LuXe?!

I checked through my emails. Sure enough, there was one that had gotten lost in my spam folder, from Leo's manager, Petra. The paragraph stated that they'd broken my employment contract with LuXe, effective immediately. I would need to forward them my banking information, and they'd begin sending me weekly checks that following Friday.

Weekly checks? I squealed.

Me: Turns out Leo's manager took care of it. But that asshole is saying he fired me?!

Daph: Don't worry, I'm working the rumor mill right now. I'll tell them you did something super badass to get yourself fired. I got you.

I finished my make-up, because there was no point being halfway done up, even if I wasn't going into work. Coffee in hand, I sat on my couch, glancing at my brick walls lined with lights, the article clippings and pictures of models and runways near my office space. For years I'd been aspiring to this job at LuXe, in the company of incredible reporters and writers and creative geniuses. And for years, Mr. Ivy had blocked my progress, for no real reason except that he'd placed a target on my back and decided that he'd keep shooting at it until I collapsed.

Well, I didn't collapse. Despite his crude comments about my weight—I wasn't overweight, but too curvy to be a model, honey, so do us all a favor and stop wearing the clothes they wear, okay? Marshall would often echo those sentiments, mocking my sense of style—which everyone else praised—and demeaning me. I'd let them. I'd sat there and taken it, thinking it was normal, a rite of passage, and it'd show my thick skin and prove to everyone that I had what it takes.

The strange satisfaction in my gut now, proved to me that I'd always had what it took, I just needed to get the fuck out of that place to figure it out. Away from the critics and the bullying.

Fake-dating Leo was already a blessing in disguise. I'd have more free time to focus on research, to attend more shows, to write more papers and submit them to magazines that would consider me. Maybe take a few classes, frequent the high-profile bars and people-watch; and get paid for posing as Leo's girlfriend.

I stood up to get on my laptop and check some events happening around town today, when someone knocked at my door. I scrunched my nose; it was eight a.m., and no one knew I was home, because I was usually out the door before seven.

Through the peephole, there was a guy with a low-hanging fedora, draped in a detective-style trench coat, standing in front of my door with his chin dipped. It was too hot for this kind of outfit, even in the morning.

I cleared my throat, loud enough for this mystery individual to hear. "Yeah?"

His neck snapped up at once, and I sighted the familiar sparkling brown and blue eyes. "Emma," he whispered loudly, "it's me."

I chortled. "Cam? Why the fuck are you dressed like that?" I hurried to unlock the door and let him in, and before I could kiss him or hold him, he crept inside and shut the door behind him, looking flustered and conflicted. "What's going on?"

"We're sneaking around, remember?" A hint of a smile spread over the lower part of his face. "I had to dress all incognito."

I laughed at him again. He resembled a fifties detective on the hunt for monsters. It was kind of hot, especially with the way his body filled out the trench coat, his arm muscles too large to fit into it properly.

"Okay, sir, so can I get a kiss or something?" I crossed my arms and studied him from head to toe, holding in my excitement at seeing him, at having him home.

"Or something," he said, peering left to right, checking the surroundings. He hurried over to the two windows and drew the curtains shut, then swiveled to me as he slowly unbuttoned his jacket.

"Oh my gosh, we're hidden now, so will you please let me kiss you?" I started towards him, but he lifted a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

"We're hiding, Emma." He smirked as he threw off his hat; it landed on the floor between us. "We're supposed to be discreet, cautious."

"But the contract said—" I paused, then exhaled a lengthy breath. "We're role-playing. Got it." I bent over, arching my spine as I picked up his hat. I placed it on my head and seductively played with the rim. "I can't believe you got here without a hitch. Were you followed? Seen?"

His smirk grew as I participated in his ruse. "You look fucking hot with that hat on." He licked his lips as he removed the coat—revealing he wore no shirt underneath.

My heart exploded and my jaw dropped. No matter how many times I'd admired him naked, there was something about that sudden topless reveal that fired up my core, prompted butterflies to unleash inside. I wanted to dash forward and grab him, pull him into my arms, and kiss him; but this game would make us take our time. I'd have to be patient.

"Why don't you," he dropped the coat to the floor, "leave that hat on?" He began to unbuckle his pants—tight slacks that made me salivate as they wrapped around his muscular legs and showcased his growing bulge. "But strip. Everything else—off."

My mouth watered as I obeyed. I unfastened my shirt, unbuttoned my pants, then undid my bra and let the straps slide down my arms, without removing the front piece. I turned to show him my profile and covered up my soon-to-be exposed breasts. He was pulling down his boxers by this point, and he watched me with hunger. I tossed my bra aside and snuck a finger under the hem of my underwear, to touch myself. He showcased his erection and was holding it tightly as he bit his lower lip.

"Keep going," he said, in that husky voice that meant he was ready, he craved me. "Don't stop until you're completely naked."

He approached me, but didn't touch me, didn't come close enough for me to touch him. One peek at his large member, at how he slowly stroked it, and I was a pool of emotions, of desire. But he wanted to see this through, he wanted to continue this game, so I would.

I rolled my underwear gently down my hips, my thighs, my legs, bending over to step out of them. And there I was, totally naked, as he'd requested. Nothing but the hat; nothing but my nipples growing so hard, so needy for him I was chewing on my tongue. Nothing but my frustration mounting, seeing him there in his perfection and not being able to touch him.

He took another stride forward, his gaze focused on my breasts. "It's forbidden," he mumbled, stroking himself a little faster. "You, and me...Emma...we're not supposed to..."

At that point, I almost bit my own tongue off, almost tore holes through my lips as I resisted the urge to jump him, to grab a hold of his erection, to push his mouth onto my nipples. God, I wanted him so badly it hurt.

"It's risky," I said, twirling a finger around my areola, sending chills down my spine. "It's bad. But I can't help it, Cameron. I want you."

He took a deep breath, coming into the range where I could touch him; but I knew he didn't want me to just yet. The tip of his penis was an inch from me, the scent of his spicy musk filtering into my nostrils, carrying me away. I saw his lips, wetted and pouty, perfect for me, ready to be kissed.

"I want you. But it's so dangerous." He caressed my cheek with one fingertip, plunging his eyes into mine. "Will you have me? Will you let me have you?"

It was a whole new experience, perching there with only the hat on, the rest of my body open for exploration, belonging to him.

And him, in his gorgeous nudity, his skin tanned and glistening in the light, his hairs literally standing on edge, eager to be caressed, licked, kissed.

"I'll have you. I'll have you now." My voice came out as desperate, as a cry for help. "I need you."

His finger trailed down to my chin, lifting it slightly. It continued its trek down, between my breasts without touching them. Down to my navel, tiptoeing to my sex—and he felt my desire there, all that I'd built up since he'd made his intentions clear.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he said, sliding his fingers between my lower lips, savoring the moisture, massaging me. "So, so wet. You're ready for me, aren't you?"

I let out a low moan. "You have no fucking idea." As he rotated his finger near the entrance of my vagina, my legs shook. I kept my focus on him still rubbing his penis, his hand pressed over the bulging veins. I regaled in the calculated movement meant to entice me, meant to hold his pleasure off until he could penetrate me.

He removed his finger from inside me, licked it, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. "You taste so good, Emma." He took my hand and led me not to my bed, but to the couch. "We can't mess up the sheets. We have to do this quick and dirty, baby, because we don't have much time. We can't get caught."

The naughtiness of it all, the notion that I was technically about to be in another relationship...it was hot, I had to admit. The way he sat on the sofa, legs spread, his dick on full display, had me weak.

He pulled me on top of him, straddling him. He didn't enter me yet; only rubbed his shaft against me, slowly at first, then faster, faster, bringing me to a quick but intense climax, preparing me for him.

I looked down at Cameron chewing on his lip, entranced by me coming for him, but dominating him.

But then I saw Leo's face, juxtaposed over Cameron's. Leo's lips as he licked them, his deep blue eyes roving over my body, his hands grabbing my breasts and kneading them, bringing them to his mouth. His hands rolling a condom over his length, his fingers digging into my back to guide me atop him.

This wasn't what the roleplay was about, and I knew it. Cameron didn't come here pretending to be Leo; he'd come here pretending I was dating Leo and we were the cheaters. Cameron and I were supposed to be sneaking around, hiding from Leo; I wasn't supposed to be picturing Leo at all.

And yet...and yet.

There he was, smirking as he parted my lower lips, flicked at my clitoris to send me soaring once more. There he was, panting as he pushed his sizable member into me. The shock of the sensation, the perfect, tight fit, made me close my eyes, further visualizing Leo being the one I was straddling. He was seizing my ass, squeezing it. He was sucking on my nipples, groaning in delight.

Leo—the one I'd signed on to fake-date, and whose limits were unknown to me. How far would he want to go? How far could I go? This fucking, this naughty, slippery goodness; would Leo want that from me, too? And if he did...would I accept?

Only when Cameron started thrusting, started bouncing me on top of him, did I reopen my eyes and remember he was the one I was with. He was the one I wanted to make love to, the one I'd missed.

I refocused on him, on the present. On the incredible sensations he sent through me, tingling my extremities, curling my toes. On how he felt inside me; large, triggering all my nerve endings.

I shifted back and forth, to and fro, sensing my thighs burn, but I wouldn't stop. Not until we both reached the highest of peaks and exploded, and the roleplay was over.

Leo, who? It was Cameron I wanted, Cameron I needed, and it'd be more than enough for me. I only needed to work through these fantasies and remember who I was really dating.

♪♪♪