Page 38 of The Pucking Fake Marriage

Fuck it, I want him. No amount of polite conversation is going to make me forget it.

Ken most likely thinks the same because he’s fallensilent. His muscles are tensing again, and this time, it’s not from pain. He’s…anticipating? Wanting to see how far I’ll go.

As discreetly as I can, I brush a thumb over one of his nipples. It hardens into a bud.

Ken inhales sharply.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m weak at the knees, and there’s heat between my thighs. For once, I’m completely clear-headed on my next move.

Moving back again, I start to massage his shoulders. My movement flows naturally. But I’m aware that there’s a new sensuality to it, a nuance that wasn’t there before.

I let my fingers trail to his neck, dwelling on the soft skin there. Ken groans, reminding me of how he sounded when he first pushed himself into me in Las Vegas.

Okay. Now I’m on fire.

I run my hand down the side of his neck. Another low groan. Suddenly, he’s shifting. My heart catches in my throat. I recall what he did when we first met at the club andback at the gym. Ken Edwards is not a man of subtlety, and I half expect him to pull me down on his thighs and…

He jerks to his feet and turns around. I take a step back, unsure of what to expect.

Then I see it.He’s completely hard. Completely obviousunderneath his shorts, in his full glory.

Saliva dries in my mouth and throat. In one short second, I’m filled with the pressing need to get on my knees in worship of him. To take him in my mouth and suck until he comes.Multipletimes.

He’s that glorious.

“Thanks for the massage,” he grinds out.

His teeth will shatter if he grits them any harder.

Confusion seeps into my very core. I gaze up at him,feeling myself deflate. Is he going to keep pretending that thisisn’t inevitable? I mean, he’s harder than a rock.

Ken stares back at me, then takes a deep breath, an easy grin spreading over his face. “I’d love to continue, but I did promise you that I wasn’t going to touch you while you lived in my house, and you’re making it harder to keep that commitment by the second.”

Okay, so heisacknowledging the elephant in the room. But whyhe sounds this casual, this calm,with none of the passion I’ve seen him display over the past few weeks, is beyond me.

Ken is silent, waiting for an answer.

And then it hits me.

He’s not going to do anything becauseI made him promise. He’s going to keep backing away and putting this wall between us until I tell him the truth.

That I want it to happen.Usto happen.

A ball forms in my throat. I swallow hard, not wanting to imagine what it’d be like asking Ken to screw me again.

No, I’d rather die than do that.

Or would I?

He lifts his arms up his own body, spreading the oil more evenly from his shoulders down to his chest and abs. Slowly, expertly, he works until he’s half coated his torso in the light liquid that makes him shimmer like gold.

Damn. Damn it to hell.

My knees feel weaker than ever, and I need to do something to stop myself from falling on them. Particularly since he’s still erect and ready to fuck from the looks of it.

I’mthisclose to spilling my guts to him.

“Really, you were born to be a masseuse,” he carries on easily, like we’re nothing but old friends. “I didn’t feel evenan ounce of pain. Meanwhile, the ones back at the Philly Titans attack like starving sharks.”

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