The Fake Boyfriend – Steamy Shorts Read Online Lena Little

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Lena Little Advertisement

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Colored, stained-glass-filtered light plays across our skin as dusk deepens into night. I trace patterns on his chest, feeling the slight ridge of an old scar. His fingers trail up and down my spine, touch feather-light but grounding.

The rightness of this terrifies me. This isn't fake anymore. Maybe it never was.

"We're in big trouble," Adrian says.

I prop my chin on his chest, looking up at him. "So sue me, counselor."

He smiles, fingers tangling in my hair. "I'm serious, Emmy."

"So am I." I take a deep breath, gathering courage. "This stopped being fake a while ago."

"For me too."

A long pause stretches between us as we process this admission.

I sit up. "You know what, we should probably not have existential relationship talks while naked in my grandmother's library."

Adrian laughs, and the sound warms me from the inside out.

"Probably not."

But neither of us moves to leave.

Eventually, we gather our clothes and make our way upstairs. We fall into the guest room bed, not for sex, just to be close. Adrian pulls me against his chest, and I fit perfectly there, like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

I fall asleep listening to Adrian's heartbeat, his fingers trace lazy patterns on my shoulder blade. Tomorrow we'll face reality. Tomorrow we'll figure out what this means.

But tonight, in this house full of memories and first editions and colored light, I let myself believe in the fantasy we've been selling everyone else.

That this—us—could actually work.

Those sixty days don't have to be the end.

That maybe, just maybe, we're writing our own love story instead of just pretending to live one.

===

6

ADRIAN

Iarrive at the office Monday morning, my mind still at the estate with Emmy. The weekend plays on repeat, and the truth I've been avoiding settles in my chest with startling clarity: I'm in love with her.

Not pretending. Not performing for Violet's will or Judith's scrutiny. Actually, irrevocably in love with Emmy.

I haven't told her yet. The words sit on my tongue, waiting for the right moment. Tonight, maybe. I'm picking up her favorite Thai food, planning to finally say what I've been feeling for weeks now.

"Mr. Hale?" My receptionist's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Mr. Whitmore has been waiting for you."

The name doesn't register immediately. "Whitmore?"

"Says it's about the Blake estate?"

My guard rises instantly. The man waiting in the reception area is mid-forties, disheveled, with a hungry look that makes my skin crawl. His handshake is damp, his smile calculated.

"We need to talk about the Blake estate." He stares at me. Unsmiling.

I lead him to my office, close the door firmly behind us. He doesn't wait to be asked before settling into a chair across from my desk.

"Graham Whitmore. I represent Violet Blake's cousins." He extracts a business card, slides it across my desk. "We're filing a motion to have the relationship clause invalidated."

I maintain a neutral expression. "On what grounds?"

"It's manipulative, possibly coercive." His eyes narrow. "Convenient timing, wouldn't you say? You and Ms. Blake getting together right after the will reading."

My pulse quickens, but my voice remains steady. "Ms. Blake and I began seeing each other before the will reading. Our relationship pre-dates the reading of the Will."

"Almost like you knew about the clause beforehand." He leans forward. "Facilitating a fraudulent relationship to circumvent estate terms—that's career-ending, Mr. Hale."

Cold fury builds in my chest. "Are you accusing me of something, Mr. Whitmore?"

"I'll be watching very carefully for cracks. Inconsistencies." That smarmy smile makes me want to punch his face. "Any evidence this relationship is manufactured, and I'll have you disbarred."

"If you're threatening me, Mr. Whitmore, I suggest you reconsider."

He stands, straightening his ill-fitting jacket. "Not a threat. A promise. I'll be watching."

When the door closes behind him, I remain still, analyzing every angle of this new threat.

Judith appears in my doorway moments later.

"What did Whitmore want?"

I explain the situation succinctly. Judith's brow furrows with concern.

"Your relationship with Emmy—it's legitimate?"

"Completely." The lie comes easily because it no longer feels like one.

"Because if there's any question, you need to recuse yourself immediately."

"There's no question."

After she leaves, I stare at Whitmore's card. The agreement Emmy and I signed sits locked in my safe—the only tangible evidence of our arrangement. Our text messages from the early days were strategic, calculated, but now they're genuine.

When did fake become real? The practice kiss? Victoria's dinner? The library?

Does it matter legally? We're together now. The feelings are real. My mind wanders to Violet. Her memory sits with me. I felt so comfortable in her company. Something I now feel when with Emmy.

But if Whitmore finds evidence of our original arrangement, Emmy could lose the library. I could be disbarred. Everything we've built would be tainted.

I open my safe and remove our agreement.

I feed it through the shredder page by page, watching the evidence disappear into confetti. There is no other copy. I did not sign it; I only witnessed Emmy's signature.


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