Page 45 of Play the Game

“Like this?” I ask, voice husky.

“Yeah.” She’s breathless. Her ribcage expands in my grip, and a fire sparks to life in my lower stomach.

It’s been months since I’ve taken a woman to bed, and my body is making that very clear at the moment. My jaw locks when Scottie grabs my ring finger and starts to wiggle the ring past my knuckle. “Do the same to my finger, and act like you’re putting my ring on again. We’re going to do it at the same time and take a series of photos.”

I swallow and do as she says.

The camera clicks, and at the exact same time, like we’re synced, we slowly push the rings onto each other’s fingers.

My pulse is flying. I look down at her neck and see the little thump beneath her smooth skin, matching the speed of mine.

We’re too close, and there isn’t a flicker of angry tension between us at the moment.

There are no teasing remarks threatening to come from my mouth, and the air of attitude she usually carries is long gone.

I’m not sure I like this.

Scottie’s pinned-back hair rubs against the front of my suit, and our eyes catch.

“Are we done?” The hope in my tone is obvious.

Scottie’s lip is trapped beneath her teeth, and she shakes her head.

“Now I need you to act like you’re going to kiss me, because two photos of us placing rings on each other’s fingers isn’t going to be enough if we want the world to believe that this is a real marriage.”

My jaw clicks.

With her in my arms, looking up at me with her sparkling blue eyes, it feels awfully fucking real.

Twenty-One

SCOTTIE

I can’t catchmy breath.

My legs feel weak, and I know I’ve made the right decision not to wear shoes under my thrifted wedding dress, because I would have broken my ankle by now.

Emory makes me nervous but not in the way that I’m used to. Instead of a knot in my stomach, I’m jittery with anxious thoughts and excitement, which is conflicting.

The suit he’s wearing was obviously tailored to fit his body and his body alone. The sleeves hug his large biceps, and the crisp white collar hits right below the roll of his Adam's apple each time he forces a slow swallow down.

“You want me to act like I’m kissing you?”

My heart races with the rasp in his tone. His perfect peach-colored lips have me in some type of fog, and I can’t look away from them.

A single, quick nod is the only response I give my new husband.

Emory’s hand falls to my waist, and the only thing separating his palm and my skin is the silk of my wedding dress. I gulp when his eyes bounce back and forth between mine.

“Why not an actual kiss?” he asks, pulling me in closer.

A rushed breath flies from my lips when I gasp.

Emory’s jaw flickers on the side, and I’m at a loss for words. He leans in closer, and our noses are almost touching.

I angle my chin, and he slowly grins. “Too afraid you’ll like my mouth on yours, Rogue?”

The first click of the camera echoes around the tense room, and my heart jumps. Emory’s fingers dig into my back, and I stare at his mouth before trailing up his smooth face and locking eyes with him again.

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