Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

I stared into his blue eyes and could only see sincerity and need. His dick was thick and hot and throbbing inside me.

I rocked over him, and he groaned, laying back on the bed. “Yes. So good.”

I pushed away all the crazy thoughts in my head and instead focused on physical sensation. The way his dick felt inside me, pulsing with life. The way his fingers would

squeeze and loosen on my thighs as I began to move. The way his breath picked up and his hips moved with me.

Soon, I was lost in the sensation of him inside me. Of his words, dirty and sexy urging me on. Of my orgasm building and building, coiling until I hovered on the edge.

“Make me come, baby…ah fuck…I’m coming.”

His hips shot up, his dick sliding in, and hitting me just the right way. My orgasm blasted out, making me cry out as it shot to every neuron in my body.

“Yes…yes…more,” he gasped, his hips bucking wildly underneath me as I rode him hard and fast to wring out every last drop of pleasure.

I collapsed on him, my head resting on his chest as I worked to catch my breath.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

I wasn’t sure I could believe him, but I appreciated the sentiment. At the very least, I felt fucking amazing.

We lay there for some time, his fingers gently rubbing my back. Sated, soothed, my eyes closed and sleep came.

I woke with a start, feeling disoriented. I looked around the room. That was right, I was at Ryder’s house. I was naked and my muscles were a little sore, like after a workout. I shot up to sit as I realized I’d had sex with Ryder.

I looked around, but he wasn’t in bed. Did I dream it?

The scent of bacon caught my attention. Was it morning? Was I late for work? I looked at my watch and discovered it was the evening. I slipped out of bed and grabbed my robe. I followed the scent to the kitchen where Ryder, looking way too sexy shirtless in faded jeans, was cooking. He whistled as he used tongs to remove the bacon to drain on a paper towel.

He turned and looked at me. “Nice nap?”

I could feel the heat on my cheeks as I blushed thinking about my nap. “Better than usual.”

He winked. “Have a seat. If you’re like me, you worked up a powerful hunger.”

I was hungry. I went to the table, noting the mismatched places and cutlery, but this time I thought it held a certain charm. Country kitsch.

He brought over a platter with eggs, bacon, and toast. “Dig in.”

“If the bartending thing doesn’t work out, you have a future as a short-order chef,” I said.

He laughed. “If I didn’t cook, we’d starve. You can’t live on take-out alone.”

“I’ve given it a good try,” I said as I took a bite of bacon. Still, I couldn’t deny how much better home-cooked food was.

As we ate, every now and then, I’d catch Ryder looking at me like he was waiting for something. I remembered his statement about not wanting to hear if I regretted what we’d done at that moment. Was he waiting for me to say it now?

While I couldn’t regret it, I was sure it was a good idea. Ryder and I were about as opposite as two people could get. I was controlling, serious, and focused, whereas he was laid back, going with the flow, with no plans for his future. As good as we were together in bed, I couldn’t see us working out in the long run.

Then again, there didn’t need to be a long run. We could have a short run, couldn’t we? It wasn’t generally in my nature to have a fling, but during this month-long fake marriage, my life was in an alternate universe already. Why not include a little no-strings-attached affair with my fake husband?

“You were right about one thing,” I said, wiping my mouth with my paper towel napkin.

“What’s that?”

“Your version of this fake marriage is more fun.”

He smiled. “When it comes to fun, I know what I’m talking about. I’m an expert.”