Page 47 of Dream Girl Drama

Sig didn’t respond. Couldn’t. He was too busy wanting to cover her eyes so she couldn’t see anything else. The wires hanging down from his flat screen. The old rug under his coffee table. The dining room table full of memorabilia.God, especially that.

He was so busy cataloging everything in his apartment he didn’t want Chloe to see that he didn’t catch her staring at the two bottles of beer. Not until she said, very quietly, “Are you expecting someone?” Some of the color left her face. “Should I go?”

Holy shit.

Did she think he had a woman coming over?

“That’s fine, though.” She nervously flipped her hair back over her shoulder and it finally dawned on him that she was wearing her lucky blouse. The one he’d driven to Darien and collected. “I mean, we talked about this last night. You’re free to date—”

“No,wedidn’t talk about it. You talked—and I agreed to nothing.”

“I think your agreement was implied.”

“The fuck it was, Chloe.” Frustrated, he snatched up his beer and drained half of it, before firmly setting it back down. Taking a breath. “When you buzzed, I thought you were Mailer dropping something off. That’s why I opened a second beer. Keep talking about dating other people and I’m going to need both of them, plus an additional five.”

“Youaregetting ready to be named one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors.” Her smile was the fakest one she’d ever given him. “Your social calendar is going to be full very soon.”

“Social calendar? There’s the country club girl I know and love.” He made note of the high color in her cheeks, the rapid way she was blinking. “Tell the truth. This whole eligible bachelor list is the reason you gave me that separate romantic lives speech last night, isn’t it?” Slowly, Sig exited the kitchen, sauntering in Chloe’s direction, studying her guarded expression extra closely for confirmation of his growing theory. “You heard I was going to be on some ridiculous list and freaked out?”

Chloe let out a high-pitched laugh, pressed a dainty hand to her cheek. “What are you carrying on about? I’mthrilledyou’ve made that idiotic list.”

“Are you lying, though?”

“Am I—” She rolled her beautiful eyes. “Of course, I’m not lying.”

“You sure about that?” He stopped in front of her, making note of the pulse racing at the base of her neck. “Because if you were going to be put on an eligible bachelorette list, Chloe Clifford, I would tear the fucking city down.”

Her eyes closed, as if those words were washing over her face like warm water. Not kissing her in that moment was painful. Even more painful than usual and that was sayinga lot. “Sig, you’re going to be my stepbrother,” she whispered.

A notch formed in his throat, his hand moving on its own to tuck some strands of loose hair behind her ear, his fingertips tracing the perfect curve of her jaw. “I haven’t been a bachelor since I heard your voice for the first time. I was yours before I even turned around and you know it.”

“You can’t keep saying—”

“Chloe.”

“Yes?”

He’d pushed far enough. Time to distract her before she made another attempt to create distance between them. “Don’t you think it’s time we talked about the dog?”

It took her several seconds to get on the same page, because she was staring at his mouth. “Oh. Um... I’m surprised youmade it this long without asking about my pup. It’s almost like you’ve gotten used to my mischief.” Eventually, Chloe tore her attention off his mouth and looked down at the canine. “His name is Pierre. A very chic and Parisian name for an English bulldog with breath that could kill a horse.” She crouched down to scratch the bulldog’s chin, a smile spreading from cheek to cheek. “Pierre slobbered all over my favorite pants. Which was fine. I can live with slobber. But then I took him for a walk and he was just digging, digging anywhere he could get his little sausage paws. Then he jumped on me. Thank goodness he didn’t soil the blouse. Oh! The blouse!” She shot back to her feet, dropped the leash, and wrapped both arms around his neck. Squeezing, while he died and went to heaven. “Sig, did you really drive all the way to Darien for ashirt?”

Chloe’s calming balm spread all over his frayed nerves. “You wanted it, so you got it.”

She hummed into his neck, the vibration drawing his attention to her body, curved so perfectly against him. Tits, belly, thighs.Fuck.If only they didn’t have the doom of their eventual relationship hanging over their heads, he’d slide his hands into the back of her panties and take a tight grip of those ass cheeks. Toss her a foot off the ground so she could hook her pretty thighs around his hips. Push down the waistband of his sweatpants and fuck her with those little ankle boots still on. He’d slide her up and down on his cock, make her play with her clit until she went limp with satisfaction. Then he’d look right into her eyes, get balls deep, and come, as far inside of her as possible, sending the message that had been etched into his bones since the night they met.

You are mine.

Chloe shifted against him, started to pull away... but hesitated while chewing her lip and Christ, she went back in for another too long, too intimate hug, as if she couldn’t help touching him. And that proof that her addiction mirrored his caused him to slip. Again. Even after the last twenty-four hours of panic that he’d pushed too much and lost her, the words tumbled out of him, because he was a total and complete mess for this person.

“You could wrap your legs around me for a little while, if you want,” he whispered against her temple, his palm roaming down her spine and pressing her into him, letting her feel what she was doing to his cock. “I’ll just hold you like that. It won’t go any further.”

Her open mouth found the underside of his chin, letting out a stuttered exhale. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Lust and frustration warred in his gut. “Chloe—”

The dog barked.

He’d forgotten about the dog.

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