Fake-Dating A Star

Thirteen

Morning light crept through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room. Nigel stirred beside her first, but he didn’t move much. He simply watched her, her back was still turned to him, her body was curled up tightly under the covers. Her breathing was quiet, too even, like she’d trained herself to seem asleep even when she wasn’t.

She hadn’t shifted once all night.

Nigel frowned faintly, the back of his fingers brushed her bare shoulder to check if she was really awake. She flinched so subtly it was almost unnoticeable, but he noticed.

“Lila,” he said gently, his voice a low rasp.

He could tell that whatever was wrong was truly eating her up.

She didn’t respond.

He sat up a little, adjusting the pillows behind him. “You’re still quiet,” he said. “Wanna talk about what’s eating at you?”

She rolled onto her back, finally meeting his gaze. Her eyes were rimmed with fatigue, heavy with thoughts she clearly wasn’t ready to share.

"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" He asked.

And she shook her head.

“No,” she said quietly. “I just want to get through today.”

He didn’t push, he understood boundaries. He simply nodded and reached over to push a lock of tangled hair from her forehead.

“Alright. Whatever you need.”

He got out of bed first, showered, and started getting dressed. And it was only then that Lila crawled out of bed as well to get ready for the day. She showered and dressed slowly, her movements lethargic.

Her smiles were forced, her eyes were glassy, but she made the effort to act normal. They went out for breakfast, wandered aimlessly along the upper deck, and even browsed through some of the cruise boutiques. Lila tried to laugh often, even when there was nothing to laugh about, but Nigel didn't point that out.

She was trying, and he could see that.

He held her hand anyway, just so she'd know she wasn't alone at the moment. And when she spaced out, staring into the ocean with that haunted look, he didn’t interrupt. He just waited for her to snap out of it.

Nigel understood that things weren't the same for everyone; he was a star forced on a cruise he didn't like, and he was doing this for the entertainment. But she was a woman who'd just had her heart broken, and he understood that she couldn't always be roses and sunshine.

By sunset, they had dinner together on the private balcony of the restaurant. A soft breeze played with Lila’s hair as she toyed with her food, barely eating. Nigel did most of the talking, but never about anything that pressed too hard. Movies, music, old travel stories. He was trying so hard to cheer her up.

In just a few days, he'd grown quite fond of her company, and it bothered him that she wasn't quite herself today.

She smiled at him, but her eyes didn’t shine the way they used to. She wanted to say something, he could tell. But something was keeping her from saying it.

When they returned to the room, Lila slipped into the bathroom without a word, shutting the door behind her. Nigel changed slowly, pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside. He sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling deeply, staring at the soft swirl patterns on the carpet like they might offer answers.

The bathroom door creaked open.

She stepped out wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing her upper thighs. Her hair was down, still slightly damp, curling softly over her shoulders.

He looked up, and everything in him stilled at that moment.

Lila was staring at him like she needed him to hold her together, like she’d fall apart if he didn’t. Her eyes were glassy again, shimmering with something caught between fear and shame. And her mouth trembled slightly before she stepped toward him in silence.

“Nigel,” she whispered, crawling into his lap with quiet urgency.

His hands rose instinctively to her hips, grounding her, but her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and she buried her face in the crook of it, breathing him in like it was the only thing tethering her to this world.

He held her tightly.

Her legs tightened around his waist, and she shifted against him with aching need, almost desperately. Like something was clawing at her from the inside and she was trying to drown it in him.

“Lila...” he murmured, his voice was rough with concern, heat, and with the mixture of confusion and craving.

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, her lips parted, her breathing ragged. "Don’t say anything," she whispered, and kissed him.

And just like that, she had him.

Her kiss was fierce, wet and urgent, like she needed him to feel everything she couldn't say out loud. He returned it with equal hunger, lifting her effortlessly and laying her on her back on the bed, his mouth never left hers.

He pulled the shirt over her head, baring her to the soft light of the cabin. Her skin was warm and flushed, her n*****s already tight as his mouth found them, kissing and sucking with slow pressure that had her gasping.

Lila clung to him, her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arched into his touch. His hands mapped every inch of her; her ribs, her thighs, the trembling underside of her knees, until he slid down, spreading her legs.

She was soaked.

He looked up once, as if asking silently if she was sure, and she nodded quickly, breathlessly. He lowered his head between her thighs, the first touch of his tongue made her cry out, her hips jolted ff the mattress, she was overstimulated.

He didn’t tease, he got to work immediately. He worked her in long, languid licks up her center, the flat of his tongue flicking her c**t until her thighs were trembling around his head.

“Oh God.....Nigel." she moaned, her voice breaking on his name.

He didn’t stop until she came, bucking against his mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair, her back arched in a perfect bow. But even after she climaxed, she didn’t pull away. She tugged him up to her, kissing him hard, messy, filled with urgency.

“Again,” she whispered, panting. “I want more, please.”

Nigel didn’t need to be told twice.

He stripped off his boxers and settled between her thighs again, positioning himself at her entrance. Lila grabbed his face with both hands and held his gaze as he pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her slowly, stretching her open until she whimpered.

“You’re so tight,” he rasped, kissing her jaw, “so wet for me.”

She was trembling again, but this time, it was from need.

He moved slowly at first, letting her feel every deep stroke. But her hands roamed his back, dragging nails across his skin, pulling him closer, urging him harder.

Soon the room was filled with the soft sound of skin meeting skin, with gasps and low moans and the whisper of sheets shifting beneath them. Lila wrapped her legs around his waist and held him tight, like letting go wasn’t an option.

When she came again, she choked on his name, her voice raw and broken. He followed seconds later, groaning into her neck as he spilled into her, both of them clinging to each other as their bodies trembled through the aftershocks.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The room was dark now, the moonlight casting silver streaks across the sheets. Lila lay on her side, Nigel behind her, his arm draped over her waist.

"Feeling better?" He asked when they finally caught their breaths.

It took a moment, but she nodded once.

"Yeah, thanks."

He wasn't convinced, but he let it be. Perhaps she'd feel better tomorrow, and if she didn't, he'd try all over again.