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She crashed her mouth over mine like a starving creature, my lips her only sustenance. I backed her toward the bed. Our tongues danced wildly while her hands fumbled with my buttons. The raw desire coursing through me was undeniable. I couldn't get enough of her.
“I almost forgot about consummating our marriage tonight,” she teased between kisses.
“Believe me, burying myself deep inside of you was the only thing that got me through the reception.”
Finally free from my shirt, she pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top of me. My hands skimmed her back and cuppedher full backside. Her soft curves molded perfectly against my hardness; every inch of flesh craved contact.
“What would you like, my wife?” I asked, voice gruff, the word wife becoming my favorite. I watched her pulse beat at the base of her throat, wanting to put my lips there next, but she had other plans.
“To give my husband a ride.” She suggested, her words igniting me further. “For starters.”
My gaze darkened, barely restraining myself. “There’s a condom in my wallet.”
She moved deliberately, her intentions clear, and I groaned as anticipation flooded my body.She ripped the packet with her mouth and sheathed me expertly.
She straddled me slowly, lowering herself onto my throbbing cock until we were completely one. It wouldn’t be long before I came undone within her tight walls.
An exchange of power drove us, sparked by carnal desire. Nothing about the way we touched felt forced. Every kiss, and caress quickly became intimate and desired. The moans of my name on her lips only urged me on to finish on a roar.
The countdown began. Ninety days of this could ruin me.
When the morninglight cut through the hotel curtains, I should have woken her, but for a minute, I didn’t move, only stared down at the sleeping beauty in my arms. Tangled hair over bare shoulders made for a lovely view of my wife-for-now. My marketing consultant. My friend-turned-bedmate.
I should panic, thinking about how we were going to keep this ruse up for another ninety days without losing our minds. Instead, all I could think about was how perfect she looked in my bed, and how badly I wanted to be inside of her again.
She stirred against me, stretching with a soft, satisfied hum that sent a shot of heat straight to my groin.
“Morning,” she mumbled, eyes still half-closed.
“Morning, mywife,” I said, my voice rough with sleep—and need.
Her lips curved slowly. “Sounds so strange… say it again.”
“Wife.” Strange, yes. But a part of me liked it. I leaned in and kissed her shoulder, then lower, and lower still until her breath hitched. I wanted to taste her and hear all her moans again. I wanted to chase every one of her little reactions until I knew them all by heart.
“Keaton,” she warned, breathless. “We should probably talk about?—”
“Later.” I slid on top of her, my weight braced on my forearms. “Right now, I’m busy.”
She grinned up at me. “Oh? Is morning sex your thing?”
I kissed her. “You’re my thing. But yes. Especially this morning-after where the husband—that’s me, in case you forgot—gets to remind his wife—you—exactly how good things will be for the next ninety days.”
“Hm. Bold move,” she murmured as I nudged her thighs open and shifted between. I nipped her bottom lip.
We didn’t last long. The tension had been simmering since last night. Hell, it had been simmering since the first time she walked into my bar and challenged everything I thought I wanted.
It was fast this time—urgent, breathy, full of messy kisses and whispered promises we’d let slip and probably had to unpack later. But it feltgood.
After, we lay tangled in each other, legs twisted, hands roaming lazily.
“Do you think Melanie’s going to show up with cameras again today?” Sophie asked, trailing her fingers down my chest.
I groaned. “Don’t even joke. She texted last night. Said she’ll have a copy of the fake marriage license to us by noon. And she wants a ‘recap interview’ before we fly back to Holly Creek.”
“Of course she does. And if I have my way, we’ll be poolside sipping on cans of your brews while being filmed.” Sophie stretched and rolled onto her side, propping her head on her hand.
A corner of my mouth lifted, beguiled by her brilliance. “Good thinking, badass marketing pro.”