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Dead like my business. Dead like my future. Dead like my love life, which came to a screeching halt six months ago when my boyfriend Ben suddenly declared it was over between us. Then he blocked my number as if I were a bill collector he was trying to avoid.
I could point to a gigantic asteroid entering the atmosphere directly over our heads that was about to obliterate all life on the planet, and she’d say something chipper about how at least there are no income taxes or internet trolls in the afterlife.
😂
Ten o’clock is much too early to drink. I’ll wait until noon to really get started.
He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. The cloud of testosterone surrounding him is probably visible from space.
My vagina wakes up from her six-month nap and screams at me that though this man looks like the emotionally unavailable type with major control issues, she would very much like to be wrecked by him.
“What do you mean? Why would you want to marry me? And how could you possibly keep my store open?” “I have the means to make it happen. As for why I want to marry you…” A wolflike hunger flickers in his gaze. “Let’s just say I find you interesting.” If my vagina could detach from my body and fling itself right onto his face, it would.
It’s impossible. I might have multiple orgasms just sitting next to him. His sexual magnetism is astonishing. Holding my gaze, he says, “Why are you looking at me like that?” I’d rather die than admit my panties are on fire, so I deflect. “It’s just that you have something between your front teeth. It’s green. Could be spinach.” “You’re funny. How unexpected.”
Whew. If I’m going to have to beat my vagina into submission every time this man says something sexy and commanding, my arms will fall off.
Don’t change the subject.” His intensity is alarming. It’s also arousing. I don’t believe I’ve ever been looked at with such perfect focus in my life. My voice faint, I say, “What was the subject again?” “You said my brains equal my beauty.” Honestly, at this point he could tell me I said I’d like to throw a saddle on him and go for a ride, and I’d believe it. “Yes. I suppose I did.” “So you think I’m beautiful.” Put off that he’s hunting for more compliments, I scrunch up my nose. “I take it back. Narcissism is never pretty.”
“I’m many things, but a narcissist isn’t one of them.” “Which is exactly what a narcissist would say.”
“Wow. So on top of being a super successful family man, he’s also super vindictive.” “Yes. When he dies, we’ll need an entire cemetery to bury him along with all his grudges.
After a moment of silence, he says, “Is that pause an invitation for me to speak, or should I wait until the end of these interesting little observations of yours?” “You should wait till the end. And don’t be sarcastic. There’s only room for one smartass at this table, and it’s me.”
His tone gently mocking, he says, “I’ve been obsessed with you for years. I’ve watched you from afar, planning, scheming, waiting for exactly the right moment to make you mine. Now all my planning has paid off, and the moment is here.” His mysterious smile grows wider. “Hello, little lamb. Welcome to the lion’s den.”
“Your sense of humor is as bad as your money management skills.”
I’d better get him talking about something else other than his appetite or my vagina will seize control of the rest of my body and stage a coup.
“Telling a woman not to overthink something is as dangerous as telling her to calm down when she’s angry.”
“Your permission,” I repeat, my tone dry. “What a relief.” Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and touches the fork next to his plate. He strokes the tip of his finger slowly down the handle. Then, because he clearly wants me to faint, he moistens his lips again.
He strokes his finger back up the handle of the fork, caressing it like a lover’s skin. Never before in all my life have I been jealous of a piece of silverware. What the hell is he doing to me?
😂😂😂☠️
“What an interesting friend you have,” says Callum, his mild tone underscored with amusement. “Yeah, she’s a keeper. I wonder if your police chief buddy can get me off on felony charges?” “Why’s that?” “Because I’m going to kill her later.”
Without waiting for his answer, I grab the other wineglass from the table and lift it to my lips. Then I swallow a mouthful of something so rich, delicious, and decadent, my eyes widen. “Holy shit,” I breathe, astonished. “What is this?” “Chateau d’Yquem,” comes the amused reply. “It’s a French white. Do you like it?” I laugh. “Like it? I want to have its babies! This stuff is incredible!” Just to make sure, I drink more, then nod. “Yep, it’s the best thing I’ve ever put into my mouth.” When I realize how that sounded, heat rises in my cheeks. The heat grows hotter when Callum murmurs, “I’m
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😂😂☠️☠️☠️ and thennnnn she DIED
“It’s a chicken salad, not a declaration of undying love.” “It might as well be! He fed you, Em. Even after you rejected him. And we both know where food sits in your hierarchy of needs. If you say ‘I’m hungry,’ there’s about twenty minutes before you turn into something that should be chained in a basement when the moon is full.” “Have I told you lately that I hate you?” “Shut up. You love me. Now tell me why you said no.”
“Did you hire an attorney?” “And pay him with what? Tears?”
she gazes out from the photo with a serene smile, radiating the kind of tranquil confidence that comes from sleeping on piles of money every night.
“They’re all beautiful. It’s unnatural. I bet they made a pact with the devil. Pass me the Parmesan.”
“Please tell your wife she’s hallucinating.” Feeding Mia a bite of pasta, he says, “I would, but she’s within swinging distance.”
I look at Ryan again. “Remind me why I like your wife?” He smiles at her. “Because she’s beautiful and funny.” “No, that’s why you like her. I think she’s about as funny as a suspicious rash.”
“Or the time the security guard at the mall wished you a Merry Christmas and you politely answered ‘No, thank you.’ And the time our neighbor Jenny put her baby in your hands and you said the same thing and set the baby on the ground.”
On the GROUND 😂😂😂😂☠️
Why does he have to be so handsome? And smell so good? God, he’s awful.
“You’re something much better than beautiful. And when we’re married, I’ll tell you what it is.”
“Remind me never to mix red wine and fireball shots.” I snort. “And remind me never to go drinking with three amateurs.”
His beard is perfectly trimmed.
A BEARD you say?
If the sound of ovaries screaming was audible, we’d all be deafened.
Satisfied he’s seared her frontal cortex so badly, she’ll never be able to produce more than grunts ever again, Callum turns his attention to me.
😂☠️
I say louder, “And inflexible. Plus, he always thinks he’s right!” “Duh,” says Taylor, laughing. “He’s a man. He’s still a fine piece of ass, though.”
I’m disturbed by the thought of being emotionally attached to Callum. That would be like being in love with some exotic zoo animal that was always trying to escape from its cage and eat me.
Contracts are supposed to provide for all the contingencies, not pretend they don’t exist.”
“Don’t get sassy. I’ve got that covered for both of us.
I can tell when he thinks I’m being ridiculous just by the tone of his exhalation. It’s like we’re married already.
In a hot, dark voice, he says, “Because my wife asked me to. And I’ll give her anything she wants.”
Personally, victimized by the fact that this man is not MY husband… How rude of him not to exist
“Are you still there?” “Most of me. My brain went on vacation.”
“Gee, I don’t know. All the handsome rich guys who propose marriage to me over oysters say the same thing.” His tone sharpens. “Handsome?” “Oh God. Here we go again.” “Don’t sound so disgusted.” “Why must you always be hunting for compliments from me? Isn’t having every other woman in the world constantly slobbering over you enough?”
“No. I don’t care what other women think of me. Because they’re not you.”
Atta boy …say it again
“Emery.” “Yes, Callum?” “Do you want to have sex with me?” I groan and slump over on the desk, pressing my forehead to the wood. “That’s not an answer.” “No, that was the sum of my feelings about the question.”
😂🤭🤭🤭
Because if I were to marry you, I’d need massive therapy on an ongoing basis to deal with the strain of being married to such a pain in the ass.” He chuckles. “That’s another thing we have in common.”
“All right, I’ll be serious. Are you listening?” I mutter, “Unfortunately, yes.” “There’s nothing in the contract about divorce because if you agree to marry me, you also agree to never leave me.” “I want to leave every time I spend more than ten minutes with you. How am I supposed to promise I’ll stay with you forever?”
“Wow, that was cutthroat, billionaire. I see you’ve been sharpening your knives.”
What would he be like as a lover? Rough? Tender? Dirty? Sweet? Probably all of the above, if my surging estrogen levels are any indicator. His gaze sharpens. In a husky voice, he says, “What are you thinking right now?” I clear my throat and attempt a disinterested expression. “Nothing.” Head cocked and eyes fierce, Callum moves slowly toward me. “Do I need to put a section in the contract about lying, Emery? Because I don’t like it when you lie to me.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” I say nervously. “And go stand over there. You’re crowding me.”
This has me absolutely cracked up
Flattening myself against it, I watch in panic as Callum advances on me like the Roman army. When he’s inches away, gazing down into my eyes with the heat of his body warming mine, he murmurs, “I said ‘sleeping in my bed,’ and you melted.” “I’m not butter. I don’t melt.”
I almost drop my hands right then and use them to tear all my hair out. Instead, I slide them up his chest on impulse and wrap them around his neck. His big, warm, strong, stupid neck. Gritting my teeth and staring into his eyes, I say, “I don’t care how many people you can summon at midnight on Christmas Eve to do your bidding, demon spawn, I’m not one of them. And if you don’t move away right now, we’ll see exactly how weak I am, because I’m gonna start squeezing. I won’t stop until you’re passed out on the floor.” Into his eyes comes a look of such hot excitement and pure animal savagery, I
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SCREAMING
“Here’s where I remind you that you said you’d give me anything I wanted. Remember that?” Still staring hungrily at my mouth, he growls, “I remember.” “Good. Because what I want right now is for you to step back.” His hot gaze flashes up to mine. “You scared of me, little lamb?” “Call me a farm animal one more time, and your testicles pay the price. Step back.”
