Page 31 of Playboy Billionaire's Fake Marriage

“The normal kind I imagine.” He chuckles. “Is there any kind you don’t like?”

I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Threesomes.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Anything else?”

“Anal.”

His face falls. “Really?”

Oh wow. He likes anal. “I’ve not let anyone do it to me before, so it’s a no.”

“Can I touch you there though?”

My face heats, and I hate my sudden indrawn breath. Calm down. You’re Stella, you can talk about sex with a guy. Or so I thought. Ryan on the other hand, looks like he’s discussing one of his ships.

I hazard a look at his pants. Yep, no boner. “I guess?” I finally reply.

“Okay. Any other restrictions I should know about?”

“Like what?”

“Like light bondage, spanking, toys… just anything you consider off-limits?”

I clear my parched throat. “Um, no, not really. What about you?”

“I’m pretty good with everything–”

“I bet–” I snort.

“–except I can’t fuck in a bed.”

“What? You can’t have sex lying down?” Is there any end to this guy’s ability to shock me?

“Any surface, horizontal or vertical is fine, just not in a bed.” Ryan clarifies.

I’m just wrapping that around in my head when he delivers another shock.

“And another thing. I don’t kiss.”

“You don’t kiss,” I repeat inanely, too surprised to say anything else.

He simply shakes his head.

“What’s wrong with kissing?”

Ryan shrugs, “I just don’t do it. Not unless I’m pissing drunk.”

“On the mouth?” My eyes train on his lips. They’re well-defined, and his top lip curves gracefully, softening his otherwise rugged features. His bottom lip is full, almost pouty. It’s too bad, he appears to have a mouth made for that sport.

“Not anywhere.” He clarifies.

“You don’t know how to?” I smirk, remembering how he teased me about not wanting to dance six months ago. “It’s not rocket science you know, all you need to do is to relax, look pretty, open your mouth slightly, and let me—”

“No.” He interjects, as though he can’t stand the thought of what I’m describing.

“Well, you were sober when you kissed my shoulder.” I challenge, unsure how I managed to remember that detail.

“When?”

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