Page 63 of The Proposal Pact
The look of pure horror on Sophie’s face when she was talking about the coral color after I just shared a piece of information I never allow to see the light of day made me lose it.
I was a hair-length from falling into that dark ocean, because that’s what happens every time I bring them up. I was ready for it. I braced for it when she comes out with “My favorite is orange but not coral” and goes on and on about it.
God, where did this girl come from?
When was the last time I laughed like this? I honestly can’t remember. It must be years—many, many years. But just like that, with one simple sentence, she snaps me back into the realm of living.
And I have a feeling this little menace knew exactly what she was doing. I saw it in her eyes, she felt what I felt. Somehow, she knew I wasn’t willing to go there and didn’t push me. Hell, I’m surprised I said as much as I did, but for some reason I wanted her to know.
Or rather, Itrustedher to know, and she not only kept that trust, she gave me more. My fake wife doesn’t even realize what she just did.
“Callum Clover Lovinski! Are you laughing at me?” Sophie asks with those comically wide eyes.
I rub a hand over my face, trying to calm myself from this laughing fit and barely manage it.
“Where is all this hate for coral color coming from? I think it’s a perfectly nice one,” I tell her, rolling my lips to help with the expression, but when her jaw drops theatrically, I lose the battle and another burst of laughter escapes me.
“Take that back!” she hisses, narrowing her eyes at me.
“No—ouch,” I yelp when she smacks me with a pillow. “Coral did nothing wrong to me—ouch!”
Sophie smacks me again, and I can’t stop laughing.
“It offended your wife in another life. So now, it’s your enemy number one as well.” She keeps plowing me with that pillow with every word, and I’m at a point of wheezing as my body slides off the couch and to the floor.
Sophie doesn’t waste a second, climbing on top of me until her all-too-serious face is right in front of mine. “Say it,” she demands, her short hair falling over as like a curtain.
I’m about to burst into another fit of laughs when the little menace pinches and twists my nipple through my shirt, making me nearly jump off the floor.
“Dear God!” I squeal. “Sophie!”
“Say. It.”
“Fine, fine.” I lift up both my hands. “Coral is the worst color out there. We hate coral. There will be no coral in this household.”
She releases my poor nipple with a satisfied smile on her little, evil face. “That’s a good boy.” She shifts in her spot with satisfaction, and both of us freeze, just now clueing in to the position we’re in.The one where her pussy is directly on top of my quickly hardening dick.
Sophie’s gaze glides over me, then over her hands that are pressed against my chest, and those dusty-pink lips part.
My eyes flicker over to her parted lips for a fraction of a second, but that fraction is enough to send a jolt through my cock, and almost immediately—instinctively—her pussy grinds over it.
Sophie’s eyes widen at what just happened, locking with mine.
Fuckkk…I felt her. Through jeans and sweatpants, the heat of her pussy is unmistakable.Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Theè mou,” she yelps, her body moving along mine, and I almost let free the groan I’ve been biting back because she once against shifts over me.
My hands reach out, gripping her hips. “Sophie?”
“Yeah?” she squeaks out, those brown eyes traveling to where my hands are clasped over her upper thighs, halting her.
“Got any other questions?” My voice sounds almost strangled, and the little menace bites her lip as the corners of her mouth tilt up in a smile that only translates enjoyment. She’s enjoying my tortured state right now.
“Yes, a ton, but now I’m also hungry.” She jumps off me.
Dear Lord, me too, I think when she strides over to the kitchen. Those baggy clothes doing nothing to calm my ragging cock.
Calm down, asshole, you’re not getting any today, tomorrow, or the next year for that matter.
