Page 91 of The Proposal
“Stop it.”
His chuckle grows louder.
“Looks like I can’t go home now,” I say, shrugging. “I’m just going to have to stay here and avoid the humiliation.”
“Hey.” He moves so he can look me in the eye. “There’s not a damn thing for you to be humiliated about. You are every man’s dream.”
“I wish.” I press my cheek against him again. “I’m resolved to having fake marriages and negotiating pregnancies like it’s currency.”
He pulls me to him. “Stop it.”
I blow out an exasperated breath. “I don’t want to go home, Renn. Don’t make me.”
“I’m not making you. I’ll stay here with you. We can just become beach bums. You might have to go pro with your surfing to feed us.”
“Or we can video ourselves having sex and sell it online.”
“Excuse me? No one is seeing you naked besides me.Ever. Got it?”
I still at the insinuation.No one is seeing me naked besides him. Ever. That would mean…
“I don’t think I can promise you that,” I say carefully. “Four months from now when I’m replaying this afternoon, I might need to find someone to give me a hand.”
“Call me.”
I tuck my chin so he can’t feel me grin. “Oh, you’ll be busy, I’m sure. I don’t want to be needy.”
“You don’t want to be needy now?” He tickles me until I sit up. “You were awfully damn needy today, begging me to fuck you harder. And the night before when you told me exactly how you wanted my cock.”
I laugh, straddling him. His cock twitches beneath the blankets.
He takes my hands and laces his fingers through mine. He’s so handsome propped up against a set of white pillows with a sleepy smile.
“Well, if that’s needy, I’m needy then,” I say. “I have a lot more ideas on how I want your cock.”
He smirks. “I think I need to add an addendum to our agreement.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I get the first call you make when you want fucked for the rest of your life.”
I gasp. “What if I’m married to someone else?”
“I suppose I’ll have to be good enough, so you won’t want to marry anyone else.”
He squeezes my hands.
The energy between us changes—softens. He plays with my fingers, twirling my ring around my finger.
An elephant sits next to the llama in the corner, and neither of us knows how to address it.
“We go home tomorrow,” I say simply. “Back to real life.”
“Does this mean our honeymoon is over?”
I laugh. “Technically, yeah. I guess it does.”
“So I guess there are paparazzi camped out across the street from your house. Foxx told me today. We need to figure out how to get your stuff from your place to mine.”
