Page 105 of Sexting the Bratva Beast

“Do you want to see Christmas or not?” Wow, he can flash those blue babies when he wants to.

“I… But I…”

I thought it was over. I thought when the suit walked away that I could go back inside, grab my coat from the office, and head home toChristmas with the Kranksand a glass of wine. In my head I was already in my pajamas eating a slice of leftover pizza and pretending this was all just a wild hallucination.

“What’s your name?” he hisses.

“Mary. Mary Chrysler.”

He blinks several times like he thinks I’m messing around. “Mary, will you marry me?” He shoves the engagement ring closer, daring me to reject him.

The diamond catches the glow of the fairy lights, and I find myself reaching out for it, like I’m having an out-of-body experience. This whole scenario is so surreal, it can’t be happening to me.

Emmett takes over, compensating for my lack of enthusiasm. He’s on his feet. His lips are on mine, and I’m staring into his eyes, while he slides the ring onto my finger. Keeping his back to the suit, he murmurs, “You’re going to walk back downstairs to the party with me and you’re going to make this look real. Got it?”

I nod.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe we’re getting married!” I squeal like I’m a sixteen-year-old who just got asked on a date by her first crush. I hold the ring in front of my face, turning it this way and that, forcing myself to smile. “I love you, Emmett O’Hara.”

Getting into character, I throw my arms around his neck, wrap my legs around his waist, and kiss him hard on the lips. No tongue. I mean, I don’t even know the guy.

“Nice,” he says. “Bit OTT, but it’ll do.”