Page 33 of Never Say Yes To Your Fake Husband

“Exhausted, but only because the last two nights have been sleepless, and the night before that wasn’t the best sleep either. And before that…uh, okay, that’s a long-winded answer. I am very ready for bed, and I don’t care how grandpa that sounds.”

“I’m tired too.” That’s a lie. Sort of. I am tired because I haven’t slept well either, but I’m also one hundred million percent fully awake.

Sterling has his things back from the hotel room. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom first while I get the bedroom ready, adjusting the blinds and the lighting. I think we’re still planning on putting on a performance, and I get all shivery just thinking about it.

“I’m done now. You can have the bathroom,” Sterling says from behind me.

He waits in the hallway while I quickly brush my teeth. Then, I do a sniff test on my pits and apply the smallest amount of my natural deodorant. Nothing like smelling like unnatural tacos when a hot guy rips off my shirt. That’s not the first impression I want to make when Sterling sees me partially naked, which is going to happen. Because we at least have to pretend to undress. I’ve already decided he can strip me down to my bra and panties, and since I’m wearing boy shorts and a sports bra, it won’t be that weird. I won’t be any less clothed than when I wear a bikini, I guess.

Jesus, it’s not the same at all. Not one bit.

That’s why my heart is racing hard enough to knock me over backward when I get out of the bathroom. And it picks up as we walk to the bedroom together.

When we enter the bedroom, we stand by the bed for one awkward second.

“Are we doing this?” I whisper yelp. I shut my eyes. I can’t look at him. I feel like I’m going to break a rib with my crazy, erratic heartbeat.

“If you’re still okay with it.”

“I am,” I murmur.

“How should we start? I don’t want to do something you aren’t comfortable with.”

I’m half pleased that he’s the world’s most perfect gentleman and half-starved to have his hands on me. He’s hot and sexy. And he’s my husband. We already agreed we’d try this. I’ve been awake for basically three days straight, thinking about this moment. How far? I don’t think I’ll want him to stop. That’s how far. How far? I’d like his hands all over me, his mouth and his tongue and—

“I’m okay. I’m comfortable if you take off my shirt and pants. I prepared ahead of time with appropriate underwear.”

“Ahh, good. That’s good.”

“How far should I take things for you?” I ask.

“Underwear sounds good.”

“But we should like…kiss, right? As we undress each other?” Please, god, let this man kiss me. I’m dying here. It’s crazy, but I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Never mind the cousins. I just want todo this.My frozen bits need warming up as the AC is still blasting in the bedroom. It’s going to be nice to get under those covers and have someone else keep me warm.

Being held tight and pressed up against the full hard length of a man who is sexy enough to make my legs jiggly jelly. I nearly start to hyperventilate.

Thank god that’s when Sterling steps into my space, puts his strong hands on my shoulders, and hauls me against his wall of epic muscle. His hands slide down my arms and grasp mine. I can’t feel any bulge in his jeans, so maybe he’s not as turned on as I am. Maybe he’s too cold, and it’s hiding, or he’s just not into this. Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive, and he’s just taking one for the team, or because he has to when we agreed we weredoing this. Or it could be that it’s never going to be real for him. Maybe—

There. His eyes go dark, his pupils widening. I still don’t feel anything jutting into my belly or pulsing or hard cock action, but his eyes are dark. There is something there. And when I glance at his throat, I see him swallow hard. I see his pulse leaping as fast as mine is. I hear the stutter in his breath.

He lowers his face, and I tilt mine up, but he doesn’t go for the lip smash, the mouth crush, or the teeth and tongue tangler. Instead, his lips whisper over the side of my neck. They’re like velvet. And then,ohgod,histongue. His tongue makes contact with my skin, tasting me, and he hums low in his throat like I’m even better than those seven or more tacos he ate at dinner.

To eat seven tacos, one really has to enjoy them.

I do the only thing I can do and wrap my arms around his neck, press myself so hard against him that there isn’t space for one of those taco farts I was thinking about earlier, and then pull his face down to mine. I don’t go for bumper car lip action either. I just very lightly press my lips to his, almost hesitating, almost as if I’m asking a question.

It’s like someone did a number on the AC, and it shut itself off. Because the room suddenly erupts in fire. I taste the mint on his lips, the goodness, and the man beneath the freshly brushed teeth, and there’s no stopping the spread of that wildfire. There’s no stopping me.

Chapter seventeen

Sterling

There’s no stopping what Weland has awoken with that kiss.

And I’m not talking about the monster in my pants. I’m talking about the monster inside me. The good monster that feels just lovely and peachy because it’s lovely and peachy and wonderful to be kissed like this. Her hands at the nape of my neck feel wonderful. Her body pressing against mine ignites a fire that spreads through my bloodstream and goes straight to my cock, but to be fair, it also goes to my brain. Also, to be fair, it nearly shuts my brain completely off.

Her soft, flowy floral blouse is no match for me, buttons and all. My fingers make quick work of it, and she gasps when I send the silky fabric gliding down her shoulders and then her arms. I replace the fabric with my fingers, running them down her arms, and then I switch, feeling the soft, silky curve of her hip, then her belly, and then the top of her jeans.

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