Page 7 of His Infatuated Wife

I want her like I've never wanted any other woman.

And right now, I want her more than ever.

I see her long, dark hair all wet and shiny, and I want to grip it in my fist.

I see the creamy swell of her plump breasts, and I want to see if they would fit my palms.

I see the shapely curve of her legs, and all I can think about is the sweet junction between her thighs.

I want to know if she's feeling hot and wet.

I want to know if she's as turned on as I am.

And when I hear her whisper my name---

Jacques.

Desire rages in me in a way that it's never done before, and I find myself playing the bastard because it's all I can do to resist the urge to haul her close.

"That's Mr. Carpentier for you."

I glare at her as I snap the words out.

"And will you cover yourself?"

The cruelty and rudeness are deliberate.

I want her to hate me.

Need it actually, since I've finally accepted that there is no way for me to hate her.

But instead of making her back away, she actually takes a step towards me.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She takes another step, and I'm forced to take a step back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I can barely breathe when the distance between us narrows down into mere inches.

What the hell is she thinking?

But then she walks past me---

Is she leaving?

I'm already turning around at the thought, and that's when I see her lock the door.

Damm her.

She turns to me again, and the gleam of mischief in her eyes makes me want to kiss and spank her bottom at the same time.

Damn her.

I can't believe this is the same girl I once thought was fucking nondescript.

And when I see her bite her lip hard, I know she's trying to keep herself from smiling.

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