Page 76 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

That’s if he even agrees to another week. Maybe he’ll write no and this will be over just like that. I get the feeling he’s not writing no today, though. If I write yes and so does he, then I could have another week. Another week in agony where every second is a stolen moment.

I think that would be a mistake.

I know what I have to do. It’s not like he’s going to write yes, anyway. That’s just wishful—lustful thinking.

I continue to debate furiously with myself for the next fifteen minutes while Ronan dozes.

Eventually, he pulls me closer, finally rousing and searching under the covers for sensitive places. Breasts, pussy. All of them are ready and aching for his touch. His hand sneaks beneath my defenses and the soft kisses he trails up the back of my neck are the decoy.

When he rocks his hips and grinds his thick erection against my butt, I squirm out of his arms. I can’t do this right now. Not when I’m feeling so torn about my decision. I can hardly think beyond the drugging effect he has on me.

“Best get the day started,” I say brightly and stumble out of bed. I brush the unruly mop of hair from my face and try to smile. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Dodging Ronan’s puzzled frown, I snatch my clothes and scurry to the kitchen trying to compose myself. Ronan wanders in while I’m scrounging the kitchen for breakfast materials. He’s wearing nothing at all!

Oh, why is the universe set on trying me today?

I avert my eyes resolutely from his cock dangling against his thick thigh and the way his taut belly tapers into narrow hips with an inguinal crease that looks as if it’s been carved by a Renaissance sculptor.

He turns to fetch some mugs from a high cabinet and I can’t help staring at his ass.

Oh, God.

Why does it have to be so firm and delicious?

When he turns back, he catches me standing there slack-jawed. “Like something you see, Traffic Lights?”

I swallow. “Just thirsty...for coffee. Thirsty for a coffee and some breakfast.”

He chuckles and sets the mugs down on the counter by the percolator. When I can’t find the coffee, he reaches above me to get it, pressing his warm, rigid muscles all up my back as he does. His hot breath on my neck has me flustered.

I dart away from more kisses, hurriedly looking into the fridge, as if that contains the answers I’m looking for.

Stark, empty shelves stare back at me. “You have no food.”

“We’ll pick something up on the way. Don’t worry. Come here.” He reaches for me.

I scurry to the other side of the kitchen. “Right. Well I’ll just freshen up. Nothing like a walk of shame in last night’s clothes, but I guess that can’t be helped.”

Ronan frowns. “You can borrow something of mine. A shirt might fit you as a dress. But what’s the rush?”

I shrug, trying to keep my tone lighthearted. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint anyone. I’m sure they’re waiting for our call.”

Ronan looks a bit put out, but instead of arguing, he finishes making coffee and lets me slip away to the bathroom.

In the bathroom, I message Amy.

Justine: ready for today’s filming in half an hour. Sorry about last night. I think it’s under control

Just as I’m slipping the phone into the pocket of my dress, Ronan comes in carrying his mug. “Is there something wrong?”

I laugh awkwardly. “Yeah. I’m not used to the whole naked thing. Housemate, you know?”

I should talk to him about what I’m thinking. I just can’t seem to bring myself. If he questions me at all, I’ll lose my resolve. And I need it steely firm to get me through this decision or I’ll crack. Just looking at his sardonic smile is wearing down my defenses.

Ronan takes a long swig of coffee and sets down the mug. “I’m distracting you, aren’t I, Traffic Lights? That’s OK. You can say if you like looking at my cock. But let me get dressed so we can get underway. Will that make you feel better?”

Throat dry, I can only nod.

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