Page 37 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
I don't think she forgot, but she likely needs conversation to shake off the memory of what's just happened and start functioning as a normal human again.
"What, did you forget already?" I ask, entering into the conversation and picking an argument just to ensure I fully feelthat normality again. "And here I thought you were always so meticulous."
"I am," she shoots back. "I'm just clarifying."
"Yes. In fact, I anticipate everything being over before then, but the contract's for six months."
She nods.
"Oh yes—there's one important detail we can't forget. Might as well start right now."
"What? What do you mean?"
I pull out the polished walnut-and-ebony box I had carefully stored in my pocket earlier. I flip open the gold clasp, pluck out the ring resting on its white silk cushion, and, taking her right hand, I quickly slide the jewel onto her ring finger.. The single solitaire diamond glints and flashes in the light. It looks exactly perfect on her delicate finger.
Our eyes meet, and something indescribable passes between us. She tears her gaze away before it can sink in.
We step into my main living space, and her eyes glaze over.
"Wow." She takes in the floor-to-ceiling windows and the minimalist white walls that suit the building so well, drawing the eye past the natural wood and clean Swedish-style furniture across the polished herringbone floor to the magnificent view of Central Park below.
"Like what you see?" I ask smugly. Now this is style.
She shakes her head, and the look in her eyes isn't awe—it's horror. "This is terrible."
"What?"
She shakes her head again. "Where's your bathroom?"
I give her directions to the guest bath, and she makes a beeline for it. Meanwhile, I stand staring at her retreat in confusion. What was with that reaction? I didn't expect her to be so disappointed in my home. If anything, I thought she'dbe impressed, maybe even overwhelmed. She reacted in the opposite way.
Intriguing.
I didn't even get to show her the spread of food I had delivered for us. My phone rings. Distractedly, I take it out of my pocket, expecting work. Instead, it's a woman I haven't heard from in ages—someone I never thought would call me again.
Marina.
CHAPTER 11
Jenna
Istare at myself in the bathroom mirror, and I don't recognize the person staring back at me.
Her eyes are wild, hair disheveled. Her lips are swollen and bruised from hard, intense kissing, and several hickeys trail down her neck. Clothes are rumpled and a button is done up wrong, her skin is red and blotchy… All of it is a reminder of what happened in that elevator. What I became the moment he stepped into my space and kissed me.
In that moment, all of my walls had fallen away like they were never there in the first place.
It's almost hilarious. The guy irritated me the entire day, to the point where I wanted to strangle him. Then, just one kiss and I forgot about all of that.
One kiss and I was writhing in his lap, begging for more.
One kiss and he had me screaming around his cock, wanting something that only he could give me.
My head drops forward, eyes squeezed shut.
Three feet away at all times? Ha… what a joke!
"I'm the problem."
