Mother Faker

“There’s an actual door,” Liv whispers, her attention fixed solely on me.

We’re lying side by side, hip to hip, enjoying this moment of peace and quiet.

“Beckett, that room…” She shakes her head and blinks, her eyes glassy again. “It really is incredible.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No.” She pushes closer so our bodies are flush. “It’s everything.”

Unlike when we were in Vegas, I take my time pulling her closer and kissing her softly, then linger far too long. Or maybe the perfect amount of time, because each caress only gets Liv more worked up. Soon, she’s rubbing against me, whimpering softly, and pleading for more.

“Can you stay quiet, Livy? We both know how loud you can be. How you scream for me.” I lick a trail down her neck and give her a sharp nip to test her ability. When she moans too loudly, I pull back. “If you make a sound louder than a whimper, I stop.”

She sinks her teeth into the flesh of her bottom lip and nods.

Damn. I can’t help but give her a quick peck. “Now be a good girl and take out my cock.”

Before she even wraps her fingers around my shaft, I’m rock hard and eager. I have to bite down on her shoulder to not break my own damn rule when she tugs.

She lets out a breathy laugh but doesn’t release me. “Not so easy, is it, big guy?”

“Please,” I grit out. “I could beat you in this game any day of the week.”

With a wicked grin, she slips down the mattress. The instant her lips make contact with my shaft, I have to press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep from groaning.

“We’ll see about that,” she murmurs. She circles the head of my cock and then sucks, long and hard.

“Fuck,” I mutter. It’s guttural. Being enveloped in the wet heat of her mouth as she’s deep-throating me has me losing my damn mind. “Look at me.”

Obediently, she drags her attention to my face, but she doesn’t slow.

I grasp her neck just tight enough that I can feel every time she swallows. “Good girl. Now, keep going.”

She moans around my dick, then hollows her cheeks and sucks again. With every lick, she rubs her greedy pussy against my thigh, making me grow impossibly hard.

“That’s my girl. Ride my leg. I want you to come while I spill down your throat.”

My commands spur her on. Soon, she’s writhing against me with abandon, and I’m pistoning into her mouth as I hold her neck in place, fucking her at the exact speed I need. Her moans are muffled, but they grow more fervent, signaling her impending orgasm. I squeeze her throat just a little tighter, and then we shatter in unison, the feel of her swallowing around me, of her throat bobbing as she takes everything I give her, plunges me into blackness.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers when I release her.

“Come up here and sit on my face, Livy. Then I’m going to fuck you into tomorrow.”

Tossing a pillow onto the duvet, I stare at my wife like she’s got two heads. I try to arrange them the way she likes as we make the bed together. “You have to leave tomorrow? Why?”

“I do work for both teams. The Bolts are in the playoffs. I need to be there.”

“No. You work for Langfield Corp. You need to be here.”

She laughs and fluffs a pillow on her side of the bed. “I travel with you all the time. Gavin needs me sometimes too.”

“I need you.” I’m not the least bit reluctant to admit it. But what I should really say is I want you. Need sounds like it’s work-based, and this? This is so beyond that.

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware. You have always been my biggest pain in the ass.”

“Hire someone.”

“What?”

“Don’t you have an intern or something who can handle the hockey team?”

Dropping her chin, she sighs and smooths out the duvet. “Yeah, I have an entire support team under me. They’re supposed to handle each team, but you don’t let me do that. You’re the one who insists I attend every baseball game.”

“Right, and since when are you needed at the hockey ones?”

She shrugs. “Gavin doesn’t usually need me to travel with him. He’s not as needy as you.” She peeks up at me from under her lashes. “But he told me he’ll need me more often now.”

My ducking brother. He’s trying to torture me. He thinks I won’t admit that I’ll miss Liv.

“Pick someone,” I demand.

Liv stands ramrod straight, her face blanching. “Pick someone? Nothing is going on between me and your brother.”

I laugh. “Obviously. There’s no competition. I’m clearly the better-looking, more fun brother.”

“No, you definitely are not.” She belts out a laugh when she gets a look at my face. I’m not amused. “Fine, you’re the better-looking one, but you can’t make me agree that you’re more fun.”

There’s a teasing in her tone, a lightness I rarely see. And I fucking love it. She can tell me I’m a boring grump all the time if it makes her smile like this. If it means she’ll flirt with me like she is right now.

My pants grow tighter, and I itch to grab her thick thighs and pull her closer to me. To toss her back on the bed and spend the day here, lost in her. I settle for rounding the end of the bed and pulling her toward me so I’m at least touching her.

“Pick someone to head up PR for the hockey team.” I take a deep breath. “And the baseball team.” I can’t believe I’m doing this, but the truth is, her kids need her around more. I shouldn’t be forcing her to come to games with me. One of our employees without kids should be handling these jobs.

She drops her gaze to the bed again, and the lightness I felt only seconds earlier dissipates. “You don’t want me to come with you anymore?”

This time I don’t hold back. I dig my fingers into her hips and pull her close, then I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “As my wife, yes. I always want you with me. But the kids need you here. It was selfish of me to force you to come to away games.” I lick my lips. “I’m trying to be better.”

Coyly, Liv bites her lip, her eyes sparkling once more. “You trying to tell me you want me all to yourself, Mr. Langfield?”

I crash my mouth against hers. No words necessary. I don’t want her all to myself. I need her.

Everywhere I look, the press is hovering. Jay and his wife are constantly in the news, so it really comes as no surprise. Not only did they come from rival business families, but they recently purchased a media company. The whole world is eager to see what they do with it. My sister’s show—a reality show focused on her career and the fashion world—is their first production, and everyone who is anyone is here to witness media history in the making.

“All right, you two. Remember, big smiles. All is happy at home. You’re in love, and Beckett is great with the kids,” Hannah, one of Liv’s assistants, says. She’s wearing a painted-on look of excitement.

The scowl on Liv’s face at being “handled” makes me laugh. “I don’t need you to tell me how to smile,” Liv deadpans. “I’m your boss.”

Chuckling, I squeeze my wife’s hips and bring my lips to her ear. “Not so easy taking direction from a bossy woman, is it?”

The glare she directs at me makes me positively giddy.

“Come on, Mrs. Langfield. Go tell the press how good I am.”

Even though she’s rolling her eyes, her lips tip up just a fraction as she tries to hide the smile that’s just for me.

The first of many handheld recorders gets shoved in our faces a moment later. The wicked smile on the reporter’s face says it all. This question is going to be a doozy. “Olivia, we aren’t used to seeing you on this side of the camera. You and Beckett have worked together for years. At what moment did you know things had changed?”

Liv licks her lips and shimmies her shoulders just a little as she prepares to answer. Fuck. She’s all sass right now. I can only imagine what she’ll say.

“Well, you see, Beckett is a very demanding boss.”

The woman nods. “I can imagine.”

“And there was this blue stuffed animal⁠—”

I dig my fingers into Liv’s hips, silently begging her not to tell the world this story.

She lets out an airy laugh. “I’m just teasing him. Honestly, there’s no big story. One day we just…” Her eyes meet mine. The smile on her face is so genuine and so full of adoration. “We just knew. To the world, he’s the CEO and the overly involved baseball owner, but at home, he’s so good with the kids. He brings me a Diet Coke every afternoon because he pays attention to my routines. He makes sure I don’t forget matching shoes⁠—”

“Oh my God. Is Beckett Langfield a softie?” the reporter asks.

With a shake of my head, I kiss my wife’s temple. “Only for her. And our kids.”

Liv goes rigid in my arms for a second, and the reporter’s jaw drops.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, my wife and I have a party to attend.”

I steer Liv down the red carpet. When we finally make it inside, I suck in a deep breath and will away the tension crowds like this always bring.

The event is being held on the rooftop of Jolie’s headquarters. Jolie is the most popular women’s magazine in the world, and it’s where Jay and his wife reconnected and fell in love again.

As we ride the elevator up, I take a moment to drink in the sight of my wife. “You enjoy that?”

Rounding her shoulders, she giggles. “Immensely.”

“If the entire world thinks I’m a softie⁠—”

She presses her fingers to my lips. “One little interview won’t fix your reputation. Don’t you worry. You’ve been an ass for most of your life. People will remember that.”

I chuckle, once again finding myself wanting to pull her close and tell her exactly how I feel.

Later.

Now is not the time for that conversation. She deserves more than a quick elevator confession.

“Holy shit,” Liv mutters as the stainless-steel doors open to the rooftop.

Her reaction is understandable. Every surface is draped in greenery, almost creating a ceiling. Candles of all different heights line the space. At the bar setup in the corner, my brothers are circled together, chatting.

Liv points to my sister, who’s mid-conversation with another woman. “Oh, there’s Sienna. We should go say hello.”

I press my lips to her shoulder. “You go on ahead. I’ll grab drinks. Wine?”

Liv gives me a small, almost shy, nod, like she still doesn’t know what to do when I dote on her. I push her forward, though. No more overthinking. My wife better get used to being treated like a queen, because I don’t intend to stop.

“Heard you’re to thank for getting my best friend at all the playoff games,” Brooks says as I settle myself beside him at the bar.

Gavin chuckles and claps me on the shoulder. “Sara’s going to be accompanying us, since you forbade Liv from traveling with the team.”

Pushing his arm away, I sigh. “You’re an ass.”

“Just trying to get you to come to your senses over your little marriage farce.”

Anger burns in my chest at the word farce. “My marriage isn’t fake.”

With his hands in his pockets, Gavin gives me a pointed look. “Anymore.”

Because he’s got half a brain, unlike Gavin, Brooks covers the grin spreading across his face with his palm.

“Shut it,” I growl. I take the whiskey the bartender slides my way, as well as Liv’s pinot noir. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a wife to spend time with…unlike you two.”

Gavin rolls his eyes. “Dates to family events give women the wrong impression.”

Brooks tilts his head. “And what impression is that?”

“That I’m interested,” Gavin quips.

“One day you’ll meet her,” I warn him.

He takes a long sip of his whiskey before he responds. “Who?”

“Her. The woman you’ll do more than invite to family events to prove to her that you’re interested.” I zero in on Liv, who is standing at a table with my sister, laughing. “The person you’ll upend your entire life for.”

When I turn back to my brothers, Gavin is wearing an amused smirk, but Brooks’s attention is locked on the dance floor. The expression on his face is almost pained. When I follow his line of sight, I see why. Sara is dancing with War, one of his teammates.

Looks like Brooks understands what it feels like to find that person. Even if he doesn’t know it yet. Hopefully he doesn’t take ten years to make his move like I did.

I squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. When he blinks out of his stupor, he gives me a sheepish smile. He knows he’s been busted. “I’m going to take this to Liv. You should go dance.”

Gavin snorts. “Two months in a fake marriage, and he’s the Dalai Lama of love.”

Shooting him a glare, I take off. I’m beginning to hate that F word.

Before I make it to her side, my mother swoops in to steal my wife’s attention. I have to fight not to scowl at my own mother as my hands itch to squeeze Liv’s hips or hold her hand. I have to keep my hands off her when we’re around the kids, so on the rare occasion we’re on our own and not at work, I need the physical connection.

I’m so over hiding the way I feel. She’s my wife, and I want everyone to know it, including her children.

“This event is amazing,” my mother gushes.

My sister blushes under her praise. “Cat gave me a lot of control when it came to the show, but the party? It’s all Jay. That man is a bit of a control freak.”

A laugh rumbles up my chest. Truer words have never been spoken. The guy loves to plan a party. I spot him at the bar with his arm wrapped around his wife. While Cat chats with another woman, his full attention is on her alone. Like he can’t look away. Like she’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

It hits me then that I probably look at Liv the same way.

Almost as if she can hear my thoughts, she turns to me and bites her lip.

“Hi, beautiful,” I mouth.

Her responding smile is the most gorgeous sight. Her lips are glossy, her hair is down and curled in soft waves, and her cheeks are already flushed. She only holds my gaze for a moment, though, before she dips her chin and shakes her head. The faint flush turns into a full-on blush that creeps up her chest.

I can’t wait to trace that blush with my tongue later.

“Beckett, I have good news,” my mother says, drawing my attention. “After our talk the other day, I spoke to my contractor. We’re two weeks ahead of schedule, so you can be back in your bed by next week.”

Liv’s eyes collide with mine, and I see the moment she believes that I’m trying to run from the brownstone. Run from her. In the beginning, we agreed that this “arrangement” would last until my mother’s house was finished. But if she thinks for a second that my whole world hasn’t been flipped on its head since we made that damn deal, then she hasn’t been paying attention.

Or I haven’t done enough to show her how I feel.

Jaw tense, I try to navigate my way out of this conversation as quickly as possible. “Thanks, Mom. Livy, I want to say hi to Jay. Come with me.”

She purses her lips at my obvious attempt to get her alone, but she doesn’t call me on it. “Congratulations again, Sienna. The show is going to be an absolute hit,” she says as she squeezes my sister’s arm.

I hand the glass of pinot noir to Liv and take her free hand. “I’m not trying to run,” I murmur as we head away from the table.

Liv’s heavy sigh guts me. “I know the brownstone needs work.”

I can’t hold back my chuckle. “Livy, it’s a hazard, not a brownstone. Your kids could each have their own room at the penthouse. There’s a pool. A space we can turn into a playroom. And walls. There are no snakes or pet raccoons. The master bedroom has a private balcony where you can relax and breathe. And there’s a hot tub.”

She frowns, and her eyes swim with hurt, though she avoids looking at me. “But there’s not enough room for the girls and their kids.”

I frown. “Well, no. But your situation was temporary. We can’t live with them forever. I’ll meet my end of the bargain. I’ll hand over the check for home repairs. You’ve obviously done what you’re supposed to with the media and our marriage, but we don’t have to stay with them.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she hangs her head. “That’s the deal.”

“Deal?” I ask, but before she can respond, I spot the only person who could tear my focus from my wife.

Liv’s ex.

How the fuck did he get an invite to this party?

He’s standing only a few feet away from us, sporting a sinister grin. “I fucking knew it,” he hisses.

Liv flinches at the sound of his voice, then she spins and glares at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The wicked smirk on his face when he gives her a once-over makes me want to punch him square in the face. “My firm works with Bouvier Media.”

“For now,” I grumble. There’s no way this weasel is going to work on anything associated with my sister. My first call tomorrow will be to Jay to ensure he fires this asshole.

Drake clenches his jaw, his hard eyes on me. “Nah. And soon enough, I think you’ll be hiring me to represent Langfield Corp as well.”

“You’re delusional,” I spit.

He shrugs like he has all the power in the world. “You wouldn’t want our kids finding out that their mother is a whore—trading marriage for money. I never could figure out why you were with my fat ex-wife when you could have any woman in this room. But if she’s willing to whore herself out… Makes you wonder what a judge would think⁠—”

His threat is interrupted by the crack of his jaw as my fist connects with it.

“Beckett!”

I can make out the sound of Liv’s voice, but it’s far away as I straddle the fucker and pound his face, unable to contain the rage tearing through my system.

No one talks to my wife like that.