From Fake to Forever (Newlywed Games 2)

Enough was enough. He slammed the door with one hand and with the other, he yanked her into his embrace and growled, “I do mind.”

Then he poured all his frustration and longing into a scorching kiss. He hadn’t planned it, but he couldn’t go one more second without her in his arms. She was his wife and right now, he wanted her to know it.

She softened under his mouth and her hands clutched his shoulders weakly as he backed her against the door.

God, he’d missed her. They’d only been apart a few hours, but that was long enough for him to go numb. The taste of her zinged along his nerve endings, waking him up. And he wanted more, wanted her raw and open to him. Wanted to take her, right here, right now, so there was no question that she belonged to him.

Clearly of the same mind, she moaned, and one leg slid along his sensuously, electrifying his senses. Their tongues melded as he yanked her silk blouse from the waistband of her skirt and snaked a hand inside, running a palm down the globe of her gorgeous rear end.

She wiggled out of her panties in a flash. His eyelids flew shut as he dipped a finger in her accessible, wet center.

Perfection. The feel of her slick readiness went straight to his head, sensitizing him, and he craved possession. Fully. Irreversibly. Before he knew it, she’d unzipped his pants, releasing him into her eager fingers. Stroking him with a throaty moan, she lifted a leg and hooked it behind his waist, grinding her damp sex against his bare flesh.

“Now. Make me come,” she commanded.

As if he could wait.

He slid into her with a groan and they joined. A flash of heat and something wholly amazing encompassed him as he made love to his wife against the door of their home. No condom, no pretending, nothing other than two people who completed each other.

His chest hurt as something inside him swelled.

He couldn’t possibly possess her because it was the other way around. She owned him. Wholly. And had for some time. That’s what he’d been trying to avoid, but it was too late to pretend he didn’t feel anything for Meredith.

She shuddered and climaxed in three hard thrusts, finishing him off, as well.

They slumped together, and he was physically unable to separate from her. “I’m not going to apologize. I had to have you. I couldn’t wait.”

Sated and glowing, she glanced up at him through her lashes and smiled. “I wasn’t confused. You’ve made quite a habit out of seducing me.”

“Me? You’re the one who comes on to me every waking moment.” He grinned back because he didn’t hate it. It was a huge turn-on to be the object of her lust.

She blinked. “You realize that every time we’ve had sex, you’ve initiated it. Right?”

No, he hadn’t. She was the sex goddess, enticing him to sample her gorgeous wares like a mythical Athena. “You’re...”

And then he thought back. In the car. On the desk. Saturday morning, in bed. This afternoon, against the door. It was the sexual equivalent of the board game Clue and all the cards pointed to Jason.

“Not complaining,” she finished for him. “But since you can’t keep your hands off me, I’ll start carrying condoms on my person at all times. The last thing we need is an accidental pregnancy to make our divorce complete.”

Yes, that would put the icing on his upside-down cake of a life.

“Let me take you to dinner. No more divorce talk,” he murmured. “Not now.”

Not while he was still sorting through what in the hell Meredith had done to his careful plans to stay completely disentangled from his wife.

Twelve

Dinner was less strained than Meredith had expected. Of course she’d been thoroughly mellowed by the hot and quick orgasm courtesy of Lyn’s chief operating officer.

He’d taken her against the door and then taken her to an outrageously expensive restaurant, flirting with her over lobster and crisp sauvignon blanc. Then he’d held her hand in the car and chatted all the way home about various topics like what he should give his mom for her birthday next week and whether Meredith would like to update the decor in his loft. Because he wanted her to feel at home.

She took it all in with a dollop of suspicion. Just a few days ago, he’d hemmed and hawed about the kind of marriage he really wanted: short-term vs. long-term, real vs. fake, same bed vs. separate beds. It was madness and she was thoroughly sick of being confused and scared that he’d never let himself be the caring, sensitive man she only got to experience when he forgot about being the mastermind, usually in the dark. That man would have no problem believing they could have a relationship based on something other than what was advantageous for Lyn.