Best Friend Bride

He’d stashed a couple in his wallet and he really didn’t want to examine that particular foresight right now. Instead, he wanted to examine the wonders of Viv and sheathed himself as fast as humanly possible, notching himself at the slick entrance to her channel. Her wet heat welcomed him, begged him to come inside, but he paused to kiss her because that was one of his favorite parts.

Their tongues tangled and he got a little lost in the kiss. She didn’t. She wrapped her legs around him, heels firm against his butt, and pushed him forward, gasping as he slammed into her. So that’s how she wanted it. Two could play that game.

He engulfed her in his arms and braced her for a demanding rhythm, then gave it to her. She took each and every thrust eagerly, her mouth working the flesh at his throat, his ear, nipping sensuously. He was the one about to come apart.

Viv flew through his soul, winging her essence into every diameter of his body. Wiggling a hand between their slick bodies, he fingered her at the source of her pleasure, gratified when she cried out. Her release crashed against his, shocking him with both the speed and intensity.

She slumped against him, still quaking as she held on. He was busy losing the entire contents of his body as everything inside rushed out in a flash to fill her. Fanciful to be sure since there was a barrier preventing anything of the sort. But she’d wrung him out, taken everything and more, and he couldn’t have stopped the train as it barreled down the track, even if he wanted to. Why would he want to?

He turned his head, seeking her lips, and there they were, molding to his instantly. Viv was amazing, a woman he liked, cared for deeply even, and they had the most spectacular chemistry. He could hardly fathom how much he still wanted her four seconds after having her. It was everything he said he wanted.

Except the warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with sex wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what was happening. He’d let her in, pretending that being friends gave him a measure of protection against falling for her. Instead, he’d managed to do the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do—develop feelings for someone who didn’t return them.

This was a huge problem, one he didn’t have a good solution for. One he could never let her know he was facing because he’d promised not to pressure her.

Best thing would be to ignore it. It wasn’t happening if he didn’t acknowledge it. And then he wouldn’t be lying to her or dishonoring the pact he’d made with his friends, neither of which could ever happen. If he didn’t nurture these fledging tendrils of disaster that wound through his chest, he could kill them before they ruined everything.

Actually, the best thing would be to stop being around Viv so much. Without letting on to her that he was deliberately creating distance.

The thought hurt. But it was necessary for his sanity.

Nine

Jonas helped Viv off the metal countertop that she’d have to bleach within an inch of its life and pray the fourteen different health-code violations never came to light.

It had been worth it. Whenever Jonas got like that, so into her and excited and feverish as if he’d die if he didn’t have her that instant...that was the best part of this fake marriage. Men were never that gaga over her. Except this one. And she secretly loved it. She couldn’t tell him. What would she say?

Slow and steady wins the race, she reminded herself. Not-Clingy was her new middle name and she was going to own it. Even if it killed her not to blubber all over him about how it was so beautiful it hurt when he was inside her.

They spent a few minutes setting their clothes back to rights, no small feat without a mirror. She gladly helped Jonas locate his missing tie and then buttoned his suit jacket for him when he forgot.

“Gorgeous,” she commented after slipping the last button into its slot and perusing the final product of her husband in his power suit that she immediately wanted to strip him out of again.

He grinned. “Yes, you are.”

Great, now she was blushing, judging by the prickles in her cheeks. Dead giveaway about the things going on inside that she’d rather keep a secret.

“Now, stop distracting me,” he continued. “I’m here to get started on my promise to review your books. Lead me to them.”

Oh. For some reason, she’d thought he’d come by strictly to have an explosive sexual encounter in her bakery. But in reality, he was here for business reasons. That took a little of the wind from her sails though it shouldn’t have. Of course he’d ho

nor his promise to help her, despite absolutely no prompting on her part. “Sure, my office is in the back. We can squeeze in there.”

She led him to the tiny hole in the wall where she paid bills and ordered inventory. It wasn’t much, not like the Kim Building, where Jonas had an entire office suite expressly designed for the CEO. But she wasn’t running a billion-dollar electronics company here, and they both knew that.

He didn’t complain about the lack of comfort and space, easily sliding into the folding chair she pulled from behind the door and focusing on her with his dark eyes. “Let me see your balance sheet.”

Dutifully, she keyed up her accounting software and ran the report, then pushed the monitor of her ancient computer toward him so he could see it. His gaze slid down the columns and back up again. Within a moment, he’d reviewed the entire thing and then launched into a dizzying speech about how her asset column was blah blah and her inventory was blah blah something else. After five minutes of nodding and understanding almost nothing of what he said, she held up a hand.

“Jonas, while I appreciate your attention on this, you lost me back around ‘leveraging your cash.’ Can we take a step back and focus on the goal of this?”

She knew what her goal was. Spend time with Jonas. But clearly he’d taken the idea of helping her seriously.

“Sure, sorry.” He looked chagrined and adorable as he ran a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have gone so deep into financial strategy that quickly. Maybe I should ask you what your goal is since your career is the most important thing to you. What do you want to see happen with Cupcaked?”

Oh, yeah, right. Her career. The thing she’d sold to him as the reason she didn’t date. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Should she be thinking about it? She wasn’t rich by any stretch, but she made enough and got to bake cupcakes for a living. What else was there?