Page 47 of A Package Deal

Em shifted at some point as we lay there. My eyes flew open, remembering I’d kept her arms tied up and she was probably highly uncomfortable. I pulled out of her, gritting my teeth against the heightened sensation and hurried to untie her wrists. I massaged her arms, planting kisses along her skin. When I was satisfied she wasn’t in any pain, I got off the bed.

“Stay there.” I slid my pants on and headed for the hallway to find a washcloth in the shared bathroom. After taking care of the condom, I got the water warm and wrung the towel out before coming back.

I pulled on one of her knees and her eyes popped open. “What are you…?”

I climbed between her legs again, gently swiping up her inner thigh. She flinched but then relaxed and let me finish. “Taking care of you, Slaywright.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what kind of lovers you’ve had, but I’m the type of man who takes care of his woman, before, during, and after sex.”

Em curled into my side when I was done. I tossed the washcloth onto the floor and held her tight, stroking her hair. We didn’t talk further as our heart rates came down, which was just as well. I didn’t actually think I could handle details about her past lovers. I waited until her breathing had evened out before speaking again.

“Thank you, Em. Your trust means everything,” I whispered into her hair.

She said nothing but eventually fell asleep in my arms, another sign of that trust. Normally sex made me sleepy, but not tonight. My brain was whirling with all the ways things had gotten mixed up. Married, then sex, then actually falling for my fake wife. I rolled my eyes at myself, making another vow.

I was going to date my wife and get her to fall for me.

Because I was pretty sure I’d found the only woman in the world who was right for me.

When I woke up the next morning, Em wasn’t in my bed. I could hear her and Georgia somewhere in the house. Damn, I’d slept solid last night. I scrubbed a hand over my face and grabbed my phone. There was a text from Em.

Em: I’ll take Georgia to school this morning. Thanks for last night.

I frowned. Em wasn’t one to text something flirty, but something about that text sounded lukewarm. And that just wouldn’t do. Now that I knew Em ran as hot as a metal slide on the playground in the summer sunshine, I didn’t want lukewarm.

Punching in the numbers for the new lawyer I’d hired for Em’s case, I requested a detective be hired to watch her ex for a few days. I wanted answers. Now.

I needed this thing cleared up with her ex before I could move forward with Em like I wanted. Sex was fucking amazing, but I was planning for so much more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Emmerleigh

“Savannah!” I hollered into the backyard where the woman was supposed to be cutting a full-sized sheet of drywall to the exact specs I gave her. “Hang on a sec!"

I’d missed the fact that we also needed a cutout for an electrical outlet, a rookie error that wouldn’t have happened if I had my brain focused on work and not on every little detail of what Warrick had done to my body. Hopefully I’d caught her before she started hauling the huge sheet back to the house. She came jogging back over, not at all irritated like I was. I showed her the plans and the freaking electrical outlet cutout. She nodded and walked outside, whistling a tune I didn’t recognize.

Pip stood up from where she’d been crouched, screwing in a piece of drywall on the far wall of the bedroom addition. “Got the big man on the brain, boss?” She waggled her eyebrows, revving the drill bit and pulsing it in the air in a lewd way.

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

Her cackle of laughter told me she didn’t believe me for one second. Speaking of the devil, Warrick stuck his head in the door and his gaze found me instantly. My cheeks warmed along with his eyes as they took in the full length of me. I’m sure I was a sight, covered in construction dust and sweat dotting my forehead.

“Time for lunch, Slaywright.”

God, just his low-pitched drawl was enough to make my insides wobble. I kept replaying all the dirty things he’d whispered to me last night in that voice. The man had perfected dirty talking to that of an art form. Prior encounters of the bedroom variety had been mostly quiet affairs for me, punctuated by an occasional grunt or two before Cayden started snoring.

“No time to waste right now,” I said, careful to keep my voice even. Pip was watching our exchange with an avid smile on her face. “Gotta finish this bedroom.”

Warrick stepped into the room, a challenge in his eyes that meant we were probably going to fight about something. I opened my mouth to beat him to it—after all, this was a work-related thing and he had promised not to interfere—but he lunged for me and the words died in my throat. He ducked at the last minute and suddenly I was being lifted in the air. The world tilted and Warrick’s shoulder knocked the wind right out of my lungs as he bodily carried me out of the room. My tools, the ones hanging from my waist, whacked him in the chest and I didn’t feel sorry for him at all. He deserved it for manhandling me.

Pip cheered, even as I kicked my feet. “We got it from here, boss! You enjoy the wiener schnitzel!”

My jaw dropped open and the rest of me froze with embarrassment. Sadly, that gave Warrick a window to clamp his hand down on my ankles to restrain the kicking. I was left with beating my fists on his gorgeous ass, or remain still and unleash hell when he finally set me down. I chose to bottle up my ire after the first punch to his backside ended with my hand opening against my will and smoothing along his ass cheek, like some kind of lust-addled woman who couldn’t keep her hands to herself.

Warrick chuckled as he marched us through the house and out the front door. “Already grabbing my ass, wife? Wait until we get to the barn at least before you grope me.”

I growled my displeasure at his teasing and he howled with laughter. He finally stopped and put me back on my feet, his hands staying on my hips. “Have lunch with me. Please?”

Well, crap. I couldn’t yell at him now, not when he used please. When I’d said the word last night, he hadn’t messed around. He’d given me exactly what I’d asked for, and I owed him the same level of respect.

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