Page 130 of The Wrong Husband
He instantly presses his chest into mine, and it’s like a living blanket of heat is wrapped around me.
"Wow." That feels very inadequate to express what I experienced. But given my brain is mush, it’s the best I can manage. Plus, I'm not ready to utter the words that beg to emerge:I love you.
One side of his mouth kicks up. He lowers his chin and kisses me tenderly. My lips cling to his, and when he slips his tongue inside my mouth to softly couple with mine, I sigh.
He reaches up to undo the knots around my wrists, and suddenly, I’m free. I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. He deepens the kiss, enveloping me in his arms.
I’ll never get used to the taste of my cum on his tongue.Never.He tilts his head, and the kiss catches fire. My heart thrums in my chest, my pulse bangs against my wrists and my ankles, and my ears buzz. The buzzing sound increases in intensity until a shadow falls over us.
We pull apart and look up to find a sea plane come in for a landing.
"What the hell?" He rises to his feet, then bends and frees my legs. He snatches up his trunks. I jump up to my feet, pull on my bikini, then the sarong I placed nearby, and tie it halter-style around my neck so it covers me.
"Who’s that?" I shade my eyes so I can follow the seaplane as it comes to a stop in the strip of water between the yacht and the shore. Whoever’s navigating it must be extremely skilled to make the landing. Even before the propellors have come to a stop, the door opens, and a figure of a man waves at us.
"I’ll be damned." Connor rubs at his temple.
Then, the figure turns and fiddles around, reaching for something I can now see is attached to the pontoon of the seaplane.
"What’s he doing?" I wonder aloud.
As if in answer, he tugs free something like a Jet Ski, which he lowers into the water.
"It’s a pod, which he’s going to use to get to us." He sighs aloud. "That’s my brother Brody, by the way."
"Why is he here?" I ask the obvious question as he jets over. In seconds, he’s reached us and anchored his nifty gizmo to the side of the boat. Then, he grabs hold of the ladder set into the side of the craft and pulls himself aboard.
He walks toward me, arms outstretched. "Congratulations."
Before I can take his hand, possessive Connor makes a warning noise at the back of his throat. Then, he steps in front of me. "She’s my wife."
Brody seems taken aback. "I’m aware," he drawls.
"Connor," I hiss, embarrassed by his show of possessiveness. I step around him.
"Mrs. Connor Davenport." Brody inclines his head. "You two sure took all of us by surprise. Not that I blame you for eloping. It’s the best way to avoid the circus that is a Davenport wedding."
"What are you doing here?" Connor interjects, sounding pissed.
Brody’s expression grows even more serious. "Gramps asked me to come to you."
"I know you prefer to keep your truce with the old man, but seriously. Tracking us down on our honeymoon is going a bit too far, don’t you think?” Connor scoffs.
Brody’s features lose all humor. His expression grows serious. "The old man isn’t well."
"He isn’t?" Connor scowls.
"Is Arthur okay?" I ask at the same time. Sure, he seemed fine the last time I saw him, but I also know that Connor’s grandfather is nearly eighty-three. The kind of age where even small health issues need to be taken seriously.
"He suffered from a bout of food poisoning. He’s stable, but insistent that the entire family get together."
Connor firms his lips. "You sure he isn’t faking, just so he has an excuse to intrude on everyone’s lives and be the center of attention?"
"Connor." I turn on him shocked. "How could you say that?"
"Because, sadly, Arthur isn’t above that." Connor rubs the back of his neck.
"I was the one who called the ambulance. I can vouch it was real.” Brody widens his stance. "I thought you’d want to know.”
