Page 33 of My Orc Contract Husband
Chapter Eight
Sami
Holy moly,I wasmarried.
After everything I’d done to avoid marriage to Pierce, it felt bonkers to me to actually be married, and to a guy I only just met.
No, that’s not true.
I’d known Tarkhan for a while, and Itrustedhim, which was a big deal. I knew he might be a flirt and a charmer, but he was a good male, an honest and decent one. Sure, he might have secrets, but I was confident he was still a good guy.
That’s why I’d chosen him.
But now we weremarried, much to my Aunt Sharon’s confusion, and tonight was our weddingnight. The small reception at Pastabilities had gone by in a blink, and now…
I left Tarkhan in the living room, telling him to make himself at home, and I went to change out of the pretty green dress I’d chosen with Riven when we’d gone to the mainland yesterday.
Make yourself at home. Yikes. I guess this was Tarkhan’s home now, huh? At least until he got approved for a mortgage and started building his dream home. But until then, he’d live here. With me. He’d sit at my kitchen table, and he’d sleep in my bed.
I stared, wide-eyed, at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Sleepin mybed. Withhim. Myhusband.
I knew I was panicking because I was thinking in italics.
You know, sooner or later, you’re going to have to go in there and talk to him. Figure out what the plan is. You can’t ask him to sleep on the couch.
And if he slept in the bed, was he going to expect…you know? Sex.
Would you mind?
I took a deep breath and admitted the truth:Not even a little bit.
I might be a virgin, but I knew what I liked. I liked my vibrator, I liked my ridged dildo. And I liked Tarkhan—I liked imagining him touching me. That quick kiss we’d shared at the altar, the briefest peck on the lips? That hadn’t beennearlyenough.
So you’re going to do it? You’re going to fuck Tarkhan?
I mean…no, I wasn’tthatbrave. But if he wanted to fuck me, I would be pretty darn enthusiastic, let me tell you.
So, before I lost my resolve, I grabbed my favorite sleep shirt, tugged it over my shorts, and yanked open the bedroom door.
“What’s that smell?” I blurted. It was…warm. Comforting.
I followed it into the kitchen, where I found Tarkhan—his jacket missing, his shirt unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up—smiling over his shoulder at me as he stood at the stove. “Hello. I noticed you didn’t eat much at dinner, so I’m making you a grilled cheese sandwich. Hope that’s okay—youdidsay to make yourself at home.”
Amazed, I inched closer. “You’re makingme…?” I trailed off. Sure enough, there was a stack of delicious-smelling sandwiches at his elbow.
“Are you hungry?” he asked gently, but I could only gape.
He’d…noticed? He’d noticed that I’d been too nervous to eat at the reception, and now he was making me a snack? When was the last time someone had paid that much attention to me? Well, Aunt Sharon did, but I’d never met a male whocaredenough to notice something like that.
Wow.
Tarkhan was looking at me expectantly, and my brain kicked me in my tongue. “Not really!” My response tohis question about being hungry burst out. When his expression drooped a little, I hurried to explain. “I mean, I probably will be later. I just…I guess I’m nervous. Too awkward to eat?”
Understanding dawned on his face, and he slid the last sandwich from the pan, turned off the burner, and wiped his hands on a dishrag before crossing to me. Before I could ask what he was doing, Tarkhan wrapped his arms around me.
He was…hugging me?
