All Chapters of Black Ties and White Lies: A Billionaire Fake Engagement: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

Finally, Preston’s fingers still. He keeps them pressed to my ribs but doesn’t move them. My chest heaves up and down as I try to catch my breath. Suddenly, all the humor is gone. The air has thickened in just a few short seconds, and it’s all because of the heated way he looks at me.Everything pauses for a minute as we stare at one another. One second, I’m still in my own seat, only feeling the press of his fingertips through the fabric of my dress; the next, I’m being pulled onto his lap as I straddle him.Our lips crash together like a powerful wave. We’re teeth and tongue and the press of heated bodies against one another. My fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt as he pushes the skirt of my dress up my hips. We’re frantic at getting one piece of clothing off the other until I’m in nothing but a pair of panties and he’s stripped down to his boxer briefs.Preston sets me on the island. The stone is cold against the backs of my thighs, but I don’t care. All I care about is h

EMMA - TWO MONTHS LATERMARGOEMMA!!!EMMAYes?MARGOI know you’re an influencer now and post the links to everything you’re wearing on your grand adventure parading around the Hamptons this summer, but I need the best friend hookup and for you to tell me where your dress is from in these photos.Preston is on the phone with his agent while I wait for the photos from Margo to come through. There have been a few different instances where photos of Preston and me have reached the press in the almost two months we’ve spent together here in the Hamptons.For the most part, we’ve laid low and stuck to doing things at the club or tried to go places that weren’t busy, but it’s been hard to avoid the media completely. While there’s plenty of speculation that I’m the one seen in photos with Preston, I’ve taken up wearing hats and large sunglasses while I’m out with him.No one has been able to confirm anything, but the grainy photos the paparazzi have taken, and me still teasing being with a

EMMA“She’s the most beautiful baby ever,” I mutter, cradling Margo’s newborn baby to my chest. A giant pink bow sits on top of her head as she sleeps peacefully in my arms.Winnie leans close to me, her finger wrapped in baby Celeste’s tiny hand as we both marvel over our newest best friend. “I just love her so much already,” Winnie coos, a wide smile on her face.Margo sits on the other side of us, a to-go box of sushi resting in her lap as she shoves one raw roll after another into her mouth. “She’s pretty cute, even if she took thirty hours to exit my vagina,” she mutters through a mouth full of food.I laugh, looking down at Celeste. She’s got a head full of blonde hair and the cutest button nose. I haven’t been around a lot of babies in my life, but she’s got to be the most precious newborn to ever exist. “She’s a perfect angel. Perfection takes time, Mar.”Margo rolls her eyes at me, too focused on devouring the sushi to even respond.“Em, you’re hogging all the baby snuggles.

EMMAI hope one day I’ll be able to forgive myself for hurting him. I hope I look back and realize this was the best decision for both me and Preston because right now, I want to pull him into my arms and tell him I didn’t mean anything I’ve said.From the moment I left Margo’s house, the comments on my video have been at the forefront of my mind. I think some of their points have been in the back of my mind from the moment I decided to come back to Manhattan with Preston and follow along with him this season.Deep down, I knew I was falling back into a cycle I wanted to break. I kept telling myself that I had this career and that perhaps I could find myself while still being with him. But Preston deserves to have all of me, and I deserve to find myself before I end up losing myself in someone else.I hate that I let the trolls get to me, but some of them had a point. The timing for Preston and me isn’t right at the moment, no matter how much it hurts to admit that to myself.“I’m sor

EMMA - ONE MONTH LATER“Could you bring the Oreos too?” Aunt V asks me from the couch. She adjusts the sheet mask on her face, huffing when it continues to slip over her eyes and not stay on correctly.I smile from the small, attached kitchen, busy cutting the tops of different candy bags open and pouring them into a large bowl. It’s called a candy salad, and it’s been Vanessa’s and my favorite late-night snack in the month that I’ve been back home with her.“I like the way you think, Aunt V.” My eyes move from her perched on the couch to my phone that sits on a stand next to me on the counter. “The thing about girls’ night is that you have to go big or go home. Junk food combined with skincare is peak girlhood,” I tell my audience in the video I’m filming to post later.“Preach!” Aunt V yells from the living room, her eyes trained on the TV.We’re having a celebratory girls’ night because I’ve been nominated at an award show for breakout internet star. My management team begged me to