Page 10 of The Revenge Bride

“Good idea,” she says blowing my mind. “We don’t want our kiss at the ceremony to look like we’ve never shared one before.” She bites her lower lip.

The move fascinates me. “Right. We want to look authentic.” I’m trying not to sound too eager.

“Exactly.” Her tongue touches her lip.

My cock feels like it’s the size of a baseball bat. Ready and eager. Play fucking ball. “Then in the spirit of keeping up the ruse, we should.”

“We should,” she repeats tipping her chin and rising onto her tiptoes to adjust to my height.

I pick her up and set her on the desk, scattering what might be bills or who gives a fuck what onto the floor.

I was in control. Doing fine. But then Lucy opens her legs and hooks her fingers into the waistband of my jeans, pulling me to her.

I’m not in control. I’m not doing fine. I’m going to kiss the woman I can’t stop thinking about. The one who’s going to be my fake wife. The one my body feels anything but fakeness for.

Leaning in, I bracket her body, resting my hands palms down on the desk.

Her eyes darken and she focuses on my lips.

Her nipples pebble through her shirt.

She follows the line of my eyes and crosses her arms. “I don’t know why I’m having a reaction.”

“I’ll show you why.”

Chapter 4

Lucy

I want Rhett to kiss me. Those are thoughts I never dreamed would cross my mind. That I want to know what he tastes like is shocking to me. But that doesn’t stop my body from leaning forward into enemy territory.

My nipples bump against the rock of his chest and I’m straining, trying to arch enough to touch my lips to his.

But Rhett stays out of reach.

“I thought you were going to show me something. Were you playing?”

“I’m not playing. And Iamgoing to show you something. But I want to go slow because I suspect you’re not familiar with foreplay.”

His suspicions would be correct. Unless me telling my vibrator to just give me one orgasm and I could die happy counts.

Rhett moves closer and brushes his tongue along the shell of my ear. He lightly nips it.

Goosebumps dot my arms.

He kisses one side of my neck, then the other before trailing his lips to my collarbone.

Heat pools between my legs and I feel empty there.

By the time he kisses the line of my jaw, I’m ready to grab his shirt and yank him to me.

He shifts closer. The front of his jeans push against my center and the bulge of his cock has me opening wider to accommodate him. He presses harder. Pulls back. Presses again.

A whimper of need mixed with frustration escapes me.

He moves his hands to my waist. “These curves are perfect. See how well my hands fit here? Hmm?”

I nod because I’m too focused on remembering to breathe to do more than that.

---