Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

I’d never seen Mo like this, and while it was a bit unsettling, there was something sexy about it, too. All this passion over me spending time with Tucker.

“Like you, my father can be hard-headed and dismissive of what I tell him. Tucker is a friend. Only a friend. He’s got the hots for Holly if you must know.”

He stopped and jerked back. “The teacher?”

“Yes. Now, if you’re done throwing a tantrum—which by the way, why is it when I get mad, you call me a child, but when you do it, it’s somehow not childish? As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one being a big baby.”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t think you’re a child.” His voice was tight.

“Right. I’m all grown up enough to fuck but not have a real relationship with. Is that why you were with Shelley? Maybe I wasn’t her substitute. Maybe she was mine.”

He stared at me, his gaze hot and wild as he stalked, like a cat, toward me. My heart rate shot up, not in fear, but in excited anticipation, which was stupid because I had no clue what he was about to do.

He leaned over, putting his hands on the bed and then his knees, crawling toward me.

I swallowed hard.

“Do you know why I fucked you today?”

I shook my head as he drew nearer, and I had to lean back.

“No?” he prodded.

I shook my head again, leaning back more until I fell onto my back. He crawled over me, his hands on either side of my shoulders, his knees on each side of my hips.

“Because you fucking drive me crazy with need.”

I gasped at the intensity of his gaze, the heat of his words.

His gaze drifted down over my body and back up. He took my hand and brought it to his dick, which was so hard and big it had to be uncomfortable behind the fly of his jeans.

“You do that, Brooke. Not Shelley,” he said, releasing my hand and putting his back on the bed next to my shoulder.

I gently rubbed his cock through his jeans, liking how it made his breath hiss.

“You going to help me with that?” he asked, his tone still rough, a little angry.

“Yes.” A part of me thought I should tell him no. Tell him to get out. But I had to face it. I loved him. I wanted him. It didn’t make me a child. It made me weak that I was willing to settle for whatever crumbs he’d give me.

“When I decided to fuck you today, it occurred to me that we’d never done it in a bed. Do you want that, Brooke? Do you want me to fuck you in a bed?”

I swallowed again, thrilled and turned on by his words and the humming irritation mixed with sexual need vibrating through him.

“Yes.”

He dipped his head, kissing me hard. I could taste his frustration. “You want to learn new ways to fuck?”

There he was, using the f-word a lot again. I never thought I’d be so aroused by a man using it with me.

“I want to learn to fuck you, Mo.” Just you, I thought but didn’t say.

He growled, and his hands were everywhere as they undressed me. We were a tumble of arms and legs until we were both naked, our bodies hot, sticky with perspiration as they came together.

He settled his hips between my thighs. “Are you sure?” He was calmer now. His voice, gentler.

“Yes. I want to do whatever makes you happy.”

He shook his head. “This is a two-person sport. It’s about what makes you happy, too.”