Page 17 of Baby Proposal
The smallest smile stretches Mrs Blake’s mouth and her eyes twinkle. “You’ve made such a palaver now, better finish the show.”
And that’s it, we’re dismissed.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” Adi whispers as I lead her to the little platform in the gazebo where the officiant is waiting, bemused and doing a decent job of hiding it. “She’s so much more rational than when I last saw her. Maybe she just had a temporary lapse. I had no idea she’d grill you.”
“If I were twenty years younger…” Mrs Blake’s voice rings out behind us, and I catch Adi’s eye as we both splutter with laughter.
“Don’t be.” I take Adi’s hands in mine. “I like her. She loves you and wants to protect you.” We have that in common. “I think we’ll get on just fine.”
The officiant coughs subtly and the urge to kiss Adi’s nerves away is almost irresistible. But I haven’t got where I am by being anything less than patient.
“I’m going to marry you now.” I lean forward to breathe into her ear. “And later, I will push that white silk up your thighs and eat my wife’s pussy.”
She lets out a tiny whimper, but as I straighten to my full height, Adi nods, eyes sparkling.
6
ADI
I am fake married to my billionaire boss.
Well, the relationship is fake, not the marriage, that’s real. I have witnesses and a certificate and everything. The boss bit isn’t false.
Gah.
I’m losing track of what’s real and what’s a charade and what is just my wishful thinking.
As I work at my desk, a week later, blurred memories of our wedding day pop into my mind occasionally, like a half-remembered dream. The way he cupped my head and looked into my eyes when the officiant said, “You may kiss the bride”. The sweep of his palm over my cheek and the tender warmth of his lips. How he stayed by my side for the rest of the afternoon. The way the day stretched out, and a band appeared from nowhere. Granny flirted outrageously with Rhys, who smiled and winked back.
He is an outstanding actor, my husband. So charming when he wants to be, my grumpy boss.
As I work on a financial statement, I remember our wedding day turning from white-gold to pink to purple, then the moon came out and just a few stalwarts—including a suave gentleman with a crooked bow tie drinking champagne with one of Rhys’ bodyguards.
Rhys was as good as his word. Or threat. My terror of the helicopter on the second occasion was only three-quarters real, but Rhys’ protectiveness was too delicious to be stoic about my fear. Even though it was late by the time we arrived home—I mean back to his place—Rhys pushed me against that exposed brick wall and ordered me to lift my skirts in a low growl that shot arousal right to my core. Then he ate my pussy like he’d been thinking of nothing else all day. He even caught me when my knees gave way as I came, sweeping me into his arms and carrying me to my bedroom, before leaving me… Alone.
And that’s been the pattern for the last week.
It’s the reverse of the previous six months. Instead of piling work on me at ten to five, he has been finding excuses to leave the office earlier and earlier. If I didn’t know what an astounding liar he is—London Maths Syndicate indeed—I’d think he was looking forward to getting me half naked and fully boneless every afternoon.
I guess it’s only been a week. He takes responsibilities seriously, that’s all. I’m certain I’m going to break him down and he’ll let me touch him. But so far—nada.
Not no erection. He’s hard so often I’m slightly concerned about his blood pressure. Wouldn’t look good to marry a billionaire and then have him die of an arousal-induced heart attack shortly afterwards. Wouldn’t go down well with the police.
Yeah, that’s the reason I’m obsessed with touching his cock and making him come for me. Absolutely. Only that. Don’t want to be arrested.
And I think the tension is getting to him too. Today he’s been more fractious than usual. He snapped at the HR team and has been massaging his forehead since we arrived in the office at eight. I’m going to have to relieve hisstress. I know he said he needed to uh, be pent up, but I’m sure—
“Adi.” I look up to find Rhys braced over my desk. I was so lost in my little plan I failed to notice him slip through the open doors into my sub-office in the vestibule. That or my six-foot-three boss was hiding behind a pot plant.
“I’m just—”
He puffs out a breath but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. “There’s an event I’d like you to accompany me to this evening.”
“In public?” I squeak.
“Yes. The London Maths Syndicate.” His face shutters just as my tummy bounces. “Is that a problem?”
We’ll be pretending to be a real couple again. We haven’t done that since the wedding and… Yeah it might be an issue because how am I going to stop? Who is protecting my heart here? Not me and my clever decisions, that’s for sure. And how on earth can I naturally touch this man like I’m truly his wife, allow him to make me come on the sofa when we get home, then go off to my own bed thinking about how all that hardness isn’t being… Shall we say utilised?
