Fake Marriage Box Set

She laughed, which meant I had failed completely.

“Come on, I’ll grab you a towel,” I said, untangling my arms from around her and grabbing her hand, leading her down the hall.

She quickly dried off her face, arms, and hair before declaring it to be good enough. I watched her, like a lovesick little boy.

“So, what’s your plan?” she asked.

Looking at her, I was happier than I’d been in a very long time. I needed to tell her the truth, to come clean about Miriam, but not yet. I wanted to enjoy what we had before I had to burst her image of me. I had suffered plenty, so I convinced myself I was deserving of this tiny bit of joy, even if I knew it wouldn’t last.

“First of all, I’m going to cook you dinner,” I started.

She smiled, stepped in closer to me. “What are you making for dinner? I have a couple ideas about what I want,” she said, in a low voice that said far more than her words.

How could anyone deny that? I was not strong enough to shut her down, especially after I’d witnessed her practically getting off in class, just moments before the siren went off. I knew her body well, so I knew what that glistening sheen across her face meant, especially the way she was squirming.

I stepped close to her. “What do you want, Tessa?” I asked, in a low voice, running a finger slowly up her arm. I felt her shudder for a second before thousands of tiny little goosebumps popped up on her arm.

She didn’t answer, but her mouth fell open to form a small O.

“Tessa, do you want me?”

She nodded, pressing into me. Her breasts pushed through the fabric of the t-shirt I wore, and I could feel her hard little nipples against me. I had thought to tease her a bit, but I couldn’t. I needed her more than I needed the air in the room.

Without saying a word, I grabbed her hand and led her down the hall. We had to take off the edge, and then we could spend a quiet evening together. The two of us were explosive whenever we were near each other. I couldn’t think of anything else but diving into her sweet body, over and over.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?” she asked, as I carefully chopped an onion. The quickie in the bedroom had helped, but I already wanted her again.

I looked over at her and nearly cut off my finger. She was so fucking sexy. I had never seen a woman look more enticing than she did right now, wearing nothing but my t-shirt and those tiny red panties I had been ecstatic to discover earlier. The thought created another serious safety hazard.

“No. You and I both know if you come over here I’ll have you up on this counter, burying myself in you. We’ll starve.”

She smiled, and shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind.”

I shook my head. “No way. I want to make you dinner, and to do that, I need all my fingers. Quit looking at me like that,” I playfully scolded.

She held my gaze and turned the stool a few inches my direction before slowly opening her legs. The t-shirt was big on her and fell just past her butt, but sitting as she was, I was given a lovely view of those red panties that were nearly shredded not more than twenty minutes ago.

My erection strained against the jeans I had on, causing me to squirm in discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Ian? Your jeans look like they’re a little tight. How about you take them off?” she cooed.

I couldn’t answer. She was slowly moving the shirt up, spreading her legs wider. All I could think about was dropping to my knees and feasting on her. My gaze focused on that little red triangle, and just when I thought I had lost the war, she shoved the shirt down, covering herself, giggling.

“You minx!” I said on an exhaled breath. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“I hope so,” she shot back.

“Go away. Go sit in the living room or something. I can’t be near you and do this,” I told her, meaning every word. She sucked my concentration away and turned me into a mindless idiot who could think of nothing else but fucking her.

She jumped off the barstool and started to walk towards me. I held up the knife, warding her off like a cross was supposed to ward off a vampire. “Nope, go.”

Laughing, she sauntered out of the kitchen, but not before giving me a glimpse of her perfectly round ass on full display in that god damn red thong that was going to cost me a finger yet. With her out of the kitchen, I could focus on the alfredo sauce I was attempting. As I chopped and stirred, I was slammed by a sudden realization—I was falling in love with her!

How the hell did that happen?

I couldn’t love her, already. Could I? Trying to physically shake it off, I focused on the recipe. All that would have to wait. I wasn’t about to drop that bombshell on her, since I wasn’t even sure it was real myself. It was more likely the sex that was making me feel that way. But it wasn’t only the sex. I really liked being with her. Talking to her was so easy.

Stop. Not now. Later.