The Faking Game (The Billionaire Games #1)

by Olivia Hayle

To all the people-pleasing girls who grew into women afraid of setting boundaries. May you find the courage to draw them, and the love that says yes to you anyway.

The best part about going to a nightclub is when you finally get to leave.

Nora Montclair is my best friend’s little sister. And considering Rafe is basically a brother to me, that should make her like my sister. The problem is that the word should has never really worked the way it’s meant to where Nora’s concerned.

Time is running out, and now Nora is my problem too. My frustrating, too-pretty and decidedly unsafe problem.

“Whether you like it or not, trouble, I am involved. And until we catch whoever is… obsessed with you, you’re stuck with me.”

“But I have to date.” The words slip out of her like a confession. My eyes narrow. “You have to?” “Yes. I have to.” “And why’s that?” “Because I’m practicing.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t dated a lot in the past. I don’t have a ton of practice, and I’d like to one day be in a relationship, so this is important for me.” “You don’t have a ton of practice,” I repeat.

“Is this the way to disrupt West Calloway’s day, then? Go on a date that he hasn’t been informed about beforehand?” “Don’t abuse it, trouble.” “Stop calling me that.” Her eyes flash again. “That’s what you’ve been these last few days.” “Only because you’re overly concerned with what I’m doing and who I’m with.”

I walk past her and pull open the door to her car. The idea of her with other guys, other dates, makes the smile die on my lips. But I just gesture for her to enter the car. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she says, and slides into the darkness of the car. Because it should be a yes, even if I feel like it’s a hell no.

Because paying to feel all the emotions you usually suppress is a fantastic pastime. Very fun.

“You look… appropriate.” “Wow. Do you compliment all women that way?” I ask. “Only ones who are my best friend’s sister.”

“How much have you had to drink?” “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” “I think everything about you is my business right now.”

I hesitate before reaching out to grab the bottle of champagne. “I’m keeping this.” “Wouldn’t dream of taking it from you. Come on, let’s go.”

She looks like a model. Which she is. Pretty as a fucking painting, and trouble if I’ve ever seen it.

“If you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, you’re only dating me.” I press my hands flat against the table. “So if you want to practice? You’ll practice with me.”

“Just say something,” I ask him. His lips quirk. “It’s a long list.” “It’s not that long.” He lowers the piece of paper. “This is everything involved in dating.” I shake my head. “No. Not everything.”

She may be sparkly and beautiful and smiling with the world, but she has fangs. I’ve seen her use them with me. It’s my favorite version of her.

“Everyone’s staring.” “Good,” I tell her. “For someone who hates spectacles, you definitely turned this into one.” My lips curve. “Yes. But I told you, trouble. I’m fine if it’s on my terms.”

West’s eyes dip down in a slow look over my body, all the way down to my feet and all the way back up to my face. He’s never looked at me like that before. Like he’s savoring the sight.

“Good,” I tell her. “That was really good.” A smile flashes over her lips. She likes these kinds of compliments, I’ve noticed. Maybe not the ones that make her feel ogled or like an object. She’s had enough of those. But she loves being praised. Good thing I fucking love praising her.

“I guess you can teach me how to argue, then.” “Weird kink, but okay,” I say.

“Fake or real, you’re mine,” I say. The words feel better than they should. “Take my card next time.”

“You’re so good when you’re fighting back,” I tell her.

If she only knew how much I’ve thought about doing just that. It would send her running.

“I can… kiss you?” she asks. Her voice vibrates, half excitement and half nerves. But her deep green eyes don’t stray from mine. “Yes.” It’s all I can do not to add please.

“Only think about what you want. Can you do that for me?” I nod quickly. “Yes. I can.” “That’s my girl,” he says, and the praise feels almost as good as his lips did.

Alex Will you even have time, West? Our next trip is only a few weeks away. Considering you have a new girlfriend and all. James We’ve lost him to the dark side.

“Playing for the audience?” His whiskey eyes are unreadable. “I’m putting on a show. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He chuckles. It’s a dark sound, and it’s just as scratchy as his beard. “Trouble, if you think that qualifies as putting on a show, we’re going to have to work on our definitions.”

“Let me guess. It goes to hell?” “You’ve caught on to the theme,” he says. “I shouldn’t take you there, but I will, and I’ll pay the price for it.” Excitement makes my blood drum. “I can handle it.” “I know you can.”

And her ass is now right in front of me. My fucking hard-on was just starting to surrender.

“How come you’ve always been able to see through it?” “You’re not the only one who’s perceptive,” I say. And because I’ve looked far, far too much at her over the years. And once I saw the real her, it was the only version I wanted.

Nora Do you have the list memorized? West I have it in my wallet. Nora Do you read it daily? West Of course. Nora I’m not surprised. You feel like an overachiever. His response is quick. West Takes one to know one, gorgeous.

Inside, wrapped in black silky paper, is a card game. Unopened. Newly bought. On the front is an illustrated pair of fuzzy handcuffs. Beneath it is the text Naughty Conversations for Couples in a pink font. And I know this date will be nothing like our last.

“Give me the card game.” “Can you say the magic word?” His lips curve. “Please, trouble, can you put me out of my misery and let me ask you questions about sex?”

“I don’t mind it on my part, and if you want to scratch my back with your nails, I’ll wear the marks proudly. It’ll let me know you’re enjoying yourself. Rough sex, sure, but no pain. I want my partner to come. Repeatedly.”

It makes me hate my own gender. The idea of men on a date, seeing her beauty, seeing her kindness and her smiles, and thinking only of their own gratification.

“Is that how you do it, then? Sex?” Her cheeks flush. “It’s all trust-based?” “Yes.” It would be with you, I think. Earning your trust and getting to touch you would be a fucking privilege.

She’s incandescent beneath the low lighting of the store. A little wine-drunk and high off the conversations we’ve had. She’s being such a good girl.

“I’ll buy them,” she says. “What’s your PIN code?” I smile at her. “That’s my girl. And it’s one-nine-one-two. The year Fairhaven was completed.”

She smiles beneath my thumb, and I’m lost. Maybe I always was. But this is the moment I know it, wholly and completely. There’s no recovering from her.

“I have to earn another date with you?” “Yes.” “That’s it,” he murmurs, and the inches between us close. “You’re so pretty when you ask for what you want.”

“More,” I tell him. “Do better.” His chuckle is hoarse, and he finds my waist with his free hand. “That’s my girl. Tongue?” “Yes.”

“Kiss me properly. Like I’m… like I’m a woman you would actually want to date.”

“So pretty,” he mutters. “Will you be good and let me kiss you properly?”

Turns out, when your best friend’s little sister tells you she’s a virgin who wants your help with practicing intimacy, it’s a little hard to concentrate on work the next day.

“My sweet, responsive girl. You’re doing so well.”

“I want…” “Tell me, pretty girl.” “I want you to kiss my neck again. I want your mouth on my…”

“What a good, fierce girl. You did so well.”

As it turns out, it’s even harder to concentrate at work the day after you’ve helped your best friend’s little sister have an orgasm. I was so hard after I left her in her bed, drowsy and dazed, that I had to jerk off twice before falling into exhausted sleep.

“Sorry. I’m boring you.” “No. You’re not.” “Really?” I ask. “Because people who don’t like fashion don’t usually find this interesting.” “I find you interesting.”