Page 48 of His Weekend Wife

He lifted her hand, running his tongue over the tips of her short nails. “Tell me about the last five years, bella.”

She knew what he was asking. “Difficult.”

“You could have come to me.”

“No, I couldn’t. I had to stay on my own two feet. I had to make it on my own. Angelina paying for school had helped. That was enough.”

“You mean it’s easier to be alone so you don’t have to worry.”

She stiffened. “What do you mean?”

He rolled her nipples between his fingers, giving her instant satisfaction, she almost forgot her train of thought until he answered. “You were always afraid I’d leave you.” His soft voice tickled her ears. “So, you found differences between us that weren’t exactly differences that couldn’t be solved.”

Swallowing, she tried sending the message from her brain to her tongue. It wasn’t easy not when she was unraveling under his touch. “You would have left. Or kicked me out, just as you had.”

“We argued. I did tell you to leave, but honestly, I wasn’t talking forever.” He exhaled, nuzzling her neck. “For days after you left, I waited, then I came home one evening to find all of your things gone.”

“I couldn’t…”

“What, bella? Couldn’t what?” he urged.

“See you.” She stared at the stucco ceiling.

There was a long silence until he said, “We have twenty-nine days together. I suggest we do what we agreed, but also enjoy this time with no promises, no guarantees. You’re my wife and I will treat you as you are without prejudice to the fact that you left me. I suggest we fuck, laugh, seduce each other every chance we get.”

His raw words slid through her like a candy-coated jackhammer. She should be disgusted at his suggestion, but instead she saw the advantages to his offer. Truth was, she liked being here, enjoyed his touch and how he made her feel. Liked hearing him call her his ‘wife’, although she was certain he used the term loosely. She’d expected him to be spiteful, maybe even revengeful, toward her, but he was anything but implacable. In fact, he was the opposite. He’d been attentive, charming and amazingly giving. “So what’s the catch?” she asked without thinking ahead of the consequences of such a question.

“There is no catch, sweetheart. You’ll be granted your wish at the end of the month. A divorce.” There was a slight hiccup to his voice, but she didn’t have time to examine the reason. “Let’s get out of here before we’re both prunes.”

She stood, reached for the towel, but he was quicker. He had it in his hand and was helping her from the tub. He wrapped the terry cloth around her breasts and tucked it so that it would stay. She looked at him, drawn in by the clarity of his beautiful eyes. His jaw was tight.

“You’re still kind hearted, Declan. I wonder how many people get a glimpse at just how so.”

His nostrils flared. “Not many and I like it that way.”

“Being kind doesn’t make you weak. No matter what your father instilled in you and your brothers.”

He scrubbed his jaw, the scruff sounded like sandpaper. “Now let’s not go ruining a good thing by talking about my father.”

“Then what shall we discuss?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her in closer, pressing her body against his still nude and damp masculine lines. “I vote we forget talking and just move straight into the seduction.” He wagged his brows and one corner of his mouth lifted.

She lifted her arms and swung them over his shoulders, caressing the back of his neck with her fingers. “I think we skipped the red lights and did that hours ago.”

He crushed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue between her lips and she opened for him. His arms were around her tight and she could feel his erection pressing her stomach. This feeling of being held by him made her overlook the desperation in his kiss. Oh, how she’d wanted this, needed this, many times over the last five years. There were just times when a woman needed to be held and cherished, appreciated. He’d always been those things to her, until she walked away. The longer she was here, near him, the more faded the reason why she left became.

In the back of her mind there was a blinking warning sign, reminding her this wouldn’t last forever. In this moment she soaked up his scent, his feel, and allow him to ease the ache in her heart—and in her groin. Then when the month was over she’d walk away.

Her throat constricted and a sad moan spiraled up her throat.

He pulled back and the towel loosened, falling at her feet. He groaned and his eyes were wild silver pools. His mouth came to hers again, this time with more aggression. His hands were on her bare back, his fingers digging into her skin, full of desperation and yet gentleness. The draw between them had become as intense as a tornado, and they stood in the eye.

She backed up until she’d reached the sink and now their naked bodies were pressed together—his brawny chest, his six-pack abs, and his raging cock. And she had an urge that she wasn’t about to ignore.

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