Page 39 of Rim Job

The girls say hello to Rim’s mother while Isadora stares me down, waiting with a scowl to find out who I am.

“Mum, this is Christina Banks, my wife.” Rim wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me into his side. His heat engulfs me, making me light headed and my stomach swirl from his proximity.

“Your what?” Isadora shrieks. Her mouth does a fish out of water gasping thing, and her eyes widen.

“Howdy. I’m so glad to meet you.” I add a touch of fake southern twang as I shove my hand out to his mother.

She looks at it for a moment before shaking it with disbelief. “Nice to meet you as well, dear.”

I turn to bitch face then, laughing inside as her eyes blaze pure hatred. “Hi. I’m Christina, Rim’s wife.”

She shakes my hand, like a limp rag. Pathetic.

“Isadora.” She pushes the sound out between the clenched teeth of her fake smile. “So, Christina, how do you know my, er, um, our Rimmington?” she asks, wiping the hand she just used to shake mine off on the skirt of her dress.

“Oh, we got drunk and married in Las Vegas the other day. What a hoot, right?”

Rim laughs beside me before adding, “When you know, you just know.”

His mother purses her lips. “Well, um, welcome to the family. Rimmington, get the ladies settled. They must be exhausted from their trip. I’ll need to speak with you later, son. Alone.”

“Yes, Mum. Ladies, let’s get you to your rooms.”

Rim leads us out of the solarium. He pulls me into his side and brushes his lips to my ear. “You didn’t hold back at all, did you, wife?” His voice, a sensuous tone, pours over me, and shivers travel down my arm.

“Did you expect anything less?” I ask, and his grip tightens on me.

“From you, never.” He squeezes me again before turning me loose and taking my hand to lead us to our rooms.

Jen chuckles. “I thought that went well. Good first impression, Christina.“

“Thank you, Jen. I tried my best.”

We all laugh. I shouldn’t have said that to his mother. She handled it better than my parents would have. My parents would kill me if I brought a stranger home. I can see it now,“Mom, Dad meet my husband.”Insert hysterical parental hissy fit here. It’s like a band-aid, pull it off nice and quick.

I have to say, I am really great with first impressions.

19

CHRISTINA

“Here we are, my room, or well, I guess it’s our room, for now.” Rim pushes the door open and my jaw drops.

Light grays, creams, and regal reds greet me, mixed with an old world, tasteful antique décor. It’s elegant, sophisticated, comforting, and totally him. I inhale, and all things Rimmington Banks invade my senses. His scent fills the air, and I find myself unable to breathe in enough of it.

Damn it, why does he always smell good?

He smells like sex, lust, and bad intentions. All the things that landed me in this situation. I inhale one more nonchalant whiff, and I’m pretty sure my eyes roll back in my head before they land on the large four-poster bed.

Where the hell am I going to sleep while I’m here?

The couch is one of those stiff antique things, but I guess it’ll have to do. Maybe he has a roll away bed they can bring in?

Oh, shit. His family thinks we are married. I mean really married. Why wouldn’t we sleep together?

Shit.

I turn to face him. “Rim, how are we going to handle the sleeping arrangements?”

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