Page 57 of Not Mine to Keep

“I’m fine. Sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have come over.” His brow tightened, and there was clearly more he wanted to say, but I doubted he’d open up more.

“And I’m sorry you had to kill people for me.” My shoulders fell, and I faced the mirror as he came up behind me. Since he was a head taller than me, he didn’t need to sidestep me to catch my reflection.

“Maybe we should get you out of this dress?”

I arched a brow, and he closed one eye, as if regretting his choice of words.

“You know what I mean.”

“Not sure if I do. You’ve yet to tell me how we’re faking it, so the men outside believe we’re doing as Armani asked,” I reminded him, growing even more tense. I was a married woman now, and that was just ... When his hand went to my shoulder, I spied the wedding ring there, and whispered, “That band must feel like handcuffs to you.”

“It’s ... fine.” The grit to his tone suggested otherwise, but we were in this together whether we wanted to be or not.

If he could suck it up, I could, too. He was saving my life and my aunt’s, after all. Tonight, of all nights, he didn’t deserve my sassy mouth, even if Izzy thought he was a “fan” of it.Not a chance.“Should we get this over with, then?” I hiked a thumb over my shoulder. “Unbutton me, please?”

One palm skated over the pearl buttons that were in line with my spine, and he began undoing them with only one hand, the other resting on my shoulder.

Impressive.“So how are we convincing the men in the hall we’re doing it?”

His hand went still as he met my eyes in the mirror. “Given the fact he had you checked the other day, I have concerns he’s sick enough to—”

“Same,” I cut him off, the idea terrifying.

“I won’t let that happen. I promise.” Without answering my “how” to the faking-it question, he finished the job of unbuttoning me. I let the bodice fall forward and collapse at the waist, showing him what I had on beneath it, which wasn’t much.

A fairly see-through lace teddy. I studied myself in the mirror. Nipples hard and visible through the transparent fabric. He’d already seen my breasts twice now, and we were technically married, so what was the point in hiding?

But when I looked up at him in the reflection, he had a hand stroking his chiseled jawline, and his attention was sharp and focused on my tits.

“What’s the plan?” I whispered, hating the heat in my belly traveling south between my thighs with his eyes on me. “How are we faking it?”

“I’m going to ask you to do something that’s going to have you wanting to smack me.”

“Didn’t expect your wantingmeto dominateyouto be a kink of yours.” There went my mouth. I couldn’t seem to help it sometimes. I told myself it had nothing to do with the fact I was half DiMaggio.

His dark brows rose, and he spun me around to face him, then set his hands on the counter, trapping me against him. My body responded as if it were a place I needed to be—at his mercy. “I have no kinks of any kind, especially involving violence. Not in the bedroom, at least.”

So you get off on hurting people outside the bedroom, huh? I should be scared. Yet, I’m not budging. Something is wrong with me, too.“So you haven’t thought about taking a belt to my ass for my runaway mouth?” I asked, testing the waters. Seeing if he was bullshitting me about his no-kinks thing. Also, proving my point about my mouth.

“I would never hurt a woman.” Gray eyes journeyed to my breasts again before landing on my lips, and I couldn’t help but remember that kiss. It’d been more than an expert tongue schooling me on how a real man kissed a woman. “Butmaybe I wouldn’t be opposed to swatting a woman’s ass if she really needed it.Ifshe’d been bad enough to deserve it.”

Oh, fuck me.Why was that so hot? And how wet could this man possibly make me? “You’re not seriously telling me you’ve never spanked a woman before?”

He cocked his head, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, and maybe he was mirroring my own look. “I can take a man’s life, yes. But I’ve never set a hand on a woman in or out of the bedroom, no.”

Why was that such an oddly sweet thing for him to say?Sure, I’m a killer, but I draw the line at spanking.“And yet you wouldn’t mind making an exception for me, would you? Swatting yourwife’sass?” I couldn’t bite my tongue, not right now. Not with how he was peering at me like he wanted to bend me over and—

“You may be bad enough to need my handprint on your ass cheek,” he said huskily, his tone a match to the bold, dark look in his eyes. Before I could summon any type of response as I contemplated if I wanted to be his bad girl, he continued, “But Callie, I need you to remember I don’t feel anything. Ever.” Lines cut across his forehead as he studied me, as if worried we were on different pages in totally different genres of books. “Sex is just tension relief for me. It will never be more.”

“And why does it seem like you’re warning me, like you did about my heart last night? Warning me not to tempt you because I’ll get hurt?” Our faking-it conversation had been derailed, and we were goingin quite a different direction. Murky waters and dangerous territory. “You keep trying to save me from you, and maybe it’syouwho will need saving from me.”

A cocky grin slipped across his lips, and I hated how much I wanted to kiss the edges of his mouth and taste him. Hated how much he was right—that my temptation was real, as was the fact he’d break my heart if I actually did give in to the desire I couldn’t pretend not to feel for this man.

“Tell me why I’d want to smack you.” I had to get back on track. Remind myself there were two men in the hall waiting for us to have sex, and it had to be fake, and I was pretty sure we were on the verge of it being real if we kept this hot back-and-forth going.

“I need you to get yourself off. I need you to come for me, Callie.” At his erotic words, he pushed away from the counter, allowing me the space I needed to set my hand on my breastbone without hitting him with my elbow in the process.

“Why?” I closed my eyes, drawing up an answer on my own. “Because my father’s men are pigs, and the smell of sex will help sell the idea.” And it wasn’t like semen really had a smell, so it’d be up to my body to do it. “I don’t want to smack you.” Opening my eyes, I shared, “Just everyone forcing us to do this.”

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