Page 93 of One Wealthy Wedding

“Don’t,” he groans.

I startle. Is he dreaming, or was he talking to me?

“Don’t stop.” The groan this time is obviously one of pleasure.

Oh my god. He’s having a dirty dream, and I’m just standing here. I have to wake him up.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Oh yeah—” His breath leaves his chest in a heavy sigh of pleasure. “Like that.” His voice swirls around me. Danger. Theo is danger. I’m so desperately, foolishly drawn to him. I was so close to agreeing to do every dirty thing on my list with him.

He would break my heart without even meaning to. I wouldn’t even realize until the trap closed around me.

Come on, Cat. I lay my hand on his shoulder. His bare shoulder. It’s round and firm. His skin is hot. Theo burns like a flame when he sleeps.

I give a little shake, and then his hand is around my wrist. I’m surprised and off-balance, and he pulls me just right. I tumble into Theo’s bed and sprawl awkwardly over him. His heavy arm lands at my back.

He’s naked.

Completely, gloriously, bare.

And pressed up against my leg is his thick erection, which I know is long and impressively hard from that time I saw him last week, but which I didn’t expect to feel like warm velvet against my bare skin.

“Fuck, Cat.” He sounds so pained and full of longing, and I’m frozen. Did he just say my name? Is Theo fantasizing about me? Something pinches low inside me. I like the thought of that way too much.

I should move. I shouldn’t just lie here and want him, even though my body disagrees. Especially if he’s asleep and doesn’t realize what’s going on.

“Theo. Wake up. Your mom is downstairs.”

“Cat?” His voice sharpens. He’s awake, then. “Come to test the goods, princess?”

“You pulled me into the bed.” I shift, and his arm tightens around my back.

“Don’t move. Or rather, please do move.”

I push at his chest, and he lets me go with a laugh. I roll to the side and flop onto the mattress next to him. I stare up at the shadowy forms of the four posters of his bed. It really is massive. Enough to sleep a few people comfortably. Though I guess the point is not sleeping. Theo’s steady breaths fill the silence.

“Did you tell your mom that you were married?” I ask.

“What?”

“Your mom. Did you tell her that you’re married? Because she’s here, and she wants to stay the weekend.”

“I’m sorry. My mom is here?”

“Yep. She’s downstairs with a cup of tea. And you should have told me that she knew. I felt like a fool down there.” I poke his arm. “So do we have to fake it or not?”

“Oh, we definitely have to fake it.”

I groan softly. “Why, Theo? Why does it matter if she knows?”

“I don’t want to talk about my mom with you.”

I’m silent for a second. Theo has always hated that his mom and I get along. “Fine. Keep your reasons to yourself, but if we need to sell this, I need you to muss my hair or something. Give me a hickey. But somewhere I can cover later.”

“A hickey?” He sounds dazed. I wonder if he’s still hard and all the blood has yet to rush back to his head.

“Yes. A hickey. Do you want me to walk you through it? First, you put your lips on my neck, but near my collarbone please—” My words cut off as Theo surges over me.

“I don’t need you to tell me how to give you a hickey, baby.” He’s pressing me into the mattress, and wow. His hips settle between my own. His erection shifts against my bare thigh. I want him higher, where my pulse beats between my legs. I force myself not to move.

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