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“Not with the woman who painted two dicks on my face with a super-strength Sharpie just last night while I was asleep.”
He gestured to the ice cream. “Well, I’m not taking one until you promise me I’m not going to leave here in a gurney.”
“See?” I passed the cone back to him. “Can you think of a better cream?”
“Yeah, the one in my pants after seeing this,” he grumbled, putting his lips to the ice cream.
“Oh, shit.” He frowned at the cone and went in for a bigger lick. “This is actually super good.”
He got a few more licks in before he found it. The plastic card I’d hidden inside.
He stopped, yanked it out between sticky fingers, and frowned at it. “What the hell is this?”
“Oh, yeah. I was wondering when we would start those.”
“Sorry, what I meant to say is—yes, I am free, and no, I cannot wait. As you probably gathered, I am dead serious about our fake wedding.”
So, what? I owed him one time, anyway.
He angled the cone toward me. I licked it. He dipped his head, his tongue chasing mine over the ice cream. It was hot against the cold and tasted sweet.
“Hmm. So fucking sweet. Anyway.”
“As I said, I have an idea.”
“I want to do the dance, too.”
“Yes. ‘Love is an Open Door.’ It has choreography. Why settle for just the song? Let’s do the dance, too.”
Oliver decided to scoop some ice cream out of the cone with his index finger and dip the white cream into my mouth.
I opened up for him without a question, staring helplessly at him.
“F...
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sleepy as he traced my lips with the same finger...
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“You are going to drink every drop of my cum when I finally fu...
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“Wanting to fuck you has never been an issue, Oliver. I’m attracted to you. It’s your personality I cannot stand.”
“Big words from someone who is about to marry me.”
I always knew I was a horny bastard, but getting turned on by one’s ability to breathe was a new one for me.
Oh, and yes, I was willing to marry Briar if it meant keeping her.
“I’ve been known to buy less-than-orthodox things in my lifetime.”
Like everything.
The only thing I had worth keeping—Briar herself—I’d lost. And I carried that knowledge, that failure, with me everywhere I went.
I was stupid for this woman. A perfect dumbass. Not a pretend one, this time. For real.
Silly Cuddlebug, I wanted to laugh. You can never embarrass me.
“Light of my life.”
Still determined to hate me, I see.
“I believe you meant we are going to New York,”
“No way am I leaving my gorgeous fiancée to fall prey to city fuckboys unattended.”
“No reason for us to continue this charade when people aren’t looking, just to piss each other off.”
“I’m not doing this to piss you off.” I frowned, starting the car. “It’s just a really nice bonus.”
“Joke’s on you. I just did from watching you merely breathe.”
“Romantic.”
“My driver will take you,” I bargained without really answering her question.
No way would I not check in on her. The woman just woke up from a coma.
“Did I ever tell you that you look pretty today?”
“Fucking fabulous.”
Yup. I’d booked us a two-grand-an-hour table at the seven-star hotel, taking full advantage of my fake fiancé’s facilities.
You can’t even control your hormones around this man, and you want to control him?
He sauntered behind me, clasped my shoulders, and dropped a kiss to the crown of my head.
“Darling,”
dripping patronizing charm and seduction. “...
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“No need to be surprised. Every employee of the Grand Regent Group has strict orders to let me know if they see you on the premises, so I can court you.”
“Yes, all 184,000 of them, worldwide.”
“Roma...
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“Missed you too much to stay away.” He slid into the chair next to me. “Hope you don’t mind.”
