It’s been years since I saw him, but I never forgot him. You never forget your first love.
In college, everyone wanted Gabriel Rowe. He was the hottest guy on campus and I had to have him, so I went the extra mile. Took a little pill, became a beautiful woman, and worked my way into his bed time and again and again.
Nearly a decade has passed but fate has brought us back together again. When I see him on the street I am gobsmacked, the only problem is that this isn’t him. Turns out that the man of my dreams has a twin.
Ian isn’t Gabriel, they are nothing alike. Gabriel is charming and outgoing. Ian is serious and sullen. But Ian has a problem and I just might be the solution because this weekend Gabriel is making the mistake of a lifetime getting married to a gold digger. and Ian needs my help to save him.
So I will become her again, the woman I’ve secretly always wanted to be. I’ll be on the arm of his no nonsense twin, hellbent on seducing the man I used to know..
But pretending to be in love with Ian Rowe is proving harder than I thought. He’s stubborn and he’s cold and he’s nothing like the man I fell for. Even though they’re bothers, they couldn’t be less alike
So why is it so hard to only pretend that I love him? Why does faking it feel so much more real than I ever imagined it could? Why do I keep hearing the call of my heart drag me towards the wrong twin?
Caught at a beautiful county estate with the trappings of a wedding all around us I am lost in a fantasy that I can’t make heads or tails out of. On the arm of the twin that I shouldn’t want, but keep on being drawn towards, I can barely make sense of anything anymore.
I want love, I do. I want to be her, absolutely. I want the right man, but I just don’t know which one that is.
Excerpt
Surely he can feel my heart pounding, right?
His other hand brushes some hair out of my eyes and nestles it behind my ear. I swallow hard and my gaze moves to his eyes and they are so clear and so confident that I can barely tear my gaze away but I do, only to brush for a moment across his lips before returning.
“It didn’t feel like it should have been,” I say quickly.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m thinking about the bar, last night. I’m thinking about how easy the conversation was.”
He laughs, “That’s just because I got you drunk.”
“No,” I shake my head, “It’s because we weren’t thinking, weren’t trying. We weren’t focused on putting on a performance. It’s precisely because it wasn’t performative that it was easy.”
“So be natural,” he raises an eyebrow, “In a room full of people who are looking for any slip-up we make.”
I close my eyes, “Fuck, you’re probably right.”
“Sadly I think so,” he agrees, “We don’t have time for natural, but we can figure out the right performance that will work.”
“Well then maybe we just need to practice, the right kind of practice. I think I definitely still need some practice,” I say, my throat feeling dry.
He chuckles, “If it’s any consolation I’m a bit rusty too.”
“Well then maybe,” I start and I stop, wondering if this is the right thing to press on, “Maybe we can learn together.”
“What did you have in mind?”
I don’t reply with words. I move in an inch and then pause, looking at him for some kind of confirmation before I duck in the rest of the way and press my lips against his only briefly, for only a moment before darting back.
It’s quick but it’s not sudden. Everything I did was telegraphed and he knew what was coming so when I pull back I stare into his eyes, searching for some kind of answer and noticing that maybe, just maybe, there is a crack in his walls.
I pull my hand tighter into my chest, pressing his fingers against me in the process. Holding tight so that he can’t let go my brow furrows as I give a tentative little smile and then my lips part in the softest of moans as I feel the fingers of his other hand brushing against my hip.
Grab me. Pull me into you. Pin me down to the bed. Tug my pants around my knees and take me.
Take me.
Take me.
He’s not moving so I do, pushing forward to push my lips against his and it’s more than the last time and this time I don’t pull back. My lips part as I tease my tongue against his and a small whimper escapes me when he lets me in.
I am keening for it, so eager as I push my whole body forward to meet his. Our hands held tight are crushed between our bodies and I feel my nipples harden against his chest, cursing the fabric of my top from keeping me feeling him bare skin to bare skin.
But god I can touch him with my other hand. Laying it flat on his hard rigid abs and pushing down as I press my lips against and against him again and again. As I move down and I play against the waistband of his pants and nearly dive inside.
All I manage is the tip of a finger before his hips thrust forward and I feel the full hardness of him pressing against my thighs. I moan loud, rolling back to let him slide on top of me.