Page 66 of Scandalous Games

It should be scary, the ease with which he basically conveyed he wants to have his cake and eat it too. Apparently, his possessiveness and domineering attitude knows no bounds. And I invited it with welcoming and open arms.

I’m stuck on the rumors he mentioned when he returns a few minutes later with his suit jacket and vest gone. His forearms flex as he rolls the sleeves and my mouth drools at the veins in his arms and the light dusting of hair. Though he appears relaxed, his hard edge cannot be tamed.

Intense and broody might as well be his middle name. Surprisingly enough, I’ve only seen him smirk or be mischievous with me. Otherwise, he has his carefully practiced cold mask in place.

I don’t want to admit how it makes me feel.

The green flecks in his eyes lighten as they land on mine and he nods toward the drawing room. “Let’s talk.”

Hmm, I might have to do something about his bossy orders if we’re going to be in a pretend marriage. No matter how my pussy betrays me by finding it a turn-on, I won’t put up with it.

Making my way over to the couch where he’s already lounging, I walk past him to sit as far away from him as possible, only to go tumbling down on his lap as he tugs on my arm without any warning.

Circling my waist, he shifts me until I’m sitting with my bent legs on either side of his hips and my hands resting on the couch behind him. The same male satisfaction flitters across his face every time he has his way with me and ends up winning.

I swear my protests have no effect on him whatsoever.

They might as well be invisible.

“You seriously need to stop manhandling me, Dash.” I glare down at him, irritated only half-heartedly with him. Not that I’ll admit it.

His brow arches mockingly as he teases, “Is that any way to talk to your fiancé, kitten?”

“I’m not wearing your ring yet,” I retort, waving my left hand in front of his face.

He catches it in his big one and traces my ring finger, his pupils becoming heated as they travel back to mine. “I’m well aware and I’ll rectify that soon.”

“Wait… you’re not actually going to buy me a ring, are you?” He stares back as if it should be obvious. He can’t be serious about spending money on an engagement for a fake marriage. Knowing him, the expense wouldn’t be cheap. I try pulling back but his hold tightens, so I shake my head. “Uh-uh. No way. I’ll just wear one from my collection.”

“No.”

“You’ll be wasting money.”

“I’m a billionaire, in case you don’t read the newspaper,” he replies with a smug grin. When I open my mouth to argue, he cuts me off. “I’m buying you a diamond ring and it’s final, kitten. If I have to force you to wear it and glue it to your finger, I’ll do it.”

“You’re insane.”

“Only when it comes to you.” As if reading my regretful thoughts he adds, “And too bad you’re stuck with me.” Still holding my hand, he switches the topic. “So how do you want to proceed with the plan? Should I expect a court marriage or a big wedding? When do we announce it? Though I should warn you, it won’t be long before the media catches wind of us.”

I catch only half of what he says, because all I can feel are his muscles flexing beneath me. Hard as steel yet warm and comfortable. They are so fucking distracting and it doesn’t take long for flashbacks to visit me.

I don’t stand a chance of a serious conversation if we stay pressed like this.

“Do I really need to be on your lap while we discuss this?” I complain.

“How else are you going to get used to my touch?”

“I’m plenty familiar with yourtouch.” My tone is annoyed, to which his grin widens. “More than it’s required in front of my parents, unless you plan to manhandle me in front of them.”

“If the situation calls for it, I might,” he says, making my eyes widen.

“Be serious, Dash.”

He relaxes his back against the plush couch, his fingers gripping the tops of my thighs as he shrugs his big shoulders and confesses, “I like having you close, kitten. Get used to it because it will be happening a lot.”

I cross my arms and lift my chin as I match his bossy tone. “Well, in that case, we need to set some ground rules.”

“Afraid I’m all about breaking rules.” He smirks, his tongue running between his teeth as his predatory gaze lowers to my chest.

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