by JB Heller
There’s only one way to prove him wrong, and that’s to agree to his ridiculous plan. But, with some modifications.
Clearing my throat, I sit back and stare at his irritatingly handsome face. He has this whole Ben Barnes thing going on that’s really, really hard to resist. Guess that’s why I stopped resisting a few years back.
“Okay. But I have some amendments to make to your proposition.”
His grey eyes light with hope and his palm skates up my spine until he’s gripping the back of my neck. “Done,” he murmurs, tugging my face to his and claiming my lips in a possessive kiss.
My hands glide over his chest and around his throat, up into his hair at his nape, fisting it in my fingers as I moan into his mouth. His kisses are desperate and drugging, spinning my head with lust.
He releases my neck only to grip my hips and lift me. I know what he wants without needing instruction. I shift my body and spread my thighs to straddle him. His fingers dig into my fleshy hips and he drags me forward until we’re chest to chest and I can feel his erection between my legs.
I grind against it, loving how hard I make him. Loving his touch as he gathers the miles of fabric around my legs and tugging it out of his way. Thank God for the splits in this skirt or I’d be cursing someone right now.
The touch of his rough palms against my inner thighs sends a bolt of lightning to my core. His talented hands glide over my flesh, causing goosebumps to break out in their wake. When he reaches my underwear, he curls his hand in the fabric as he breaks his kiss, murmuring, “I hope you don’t like these.” Then he tears them from my body.
Oh, dear God, yes! And please.
Before I can utter a single word, he slides two fingers inside me, and I throw my head back, crying out in relief as he strokes. He kisses a path up my throat while gripping the back of my neck with his free hand. “Ride my fingers, Addy,” he instructs in a low growl that makes my insides quiver.
I whimper and do as I’m told, rolling my hips, taking what I need.
“Good girl,” Dax breathes before sinking his teeth into the soft spot below my ear, his praise sending me higher and tipping me over the edge.
“Oh, God,” I cry as wave after wave of ecstasy sweeps through me.
“Yesss, just like that, baby. Come on my fingers.” He groans into my skin, and only when I slump forward against his chest does he stop moving his fingers. His lips curve into a smile against my throat as he says, “The first one is always the fastest.”
I grin. “Now you’re going to have to work harder if you want another one.”
“You know I’m good for it,” he says, stroking the hand that was around my neck up and down my spine once more.
He stands, keeping me secured to him with an arm under my ass as he strides over to his bed in the far corner of the open space. Dax lays me down with more care than I’ve come to expect from our sexual encounters, and I don’t know what to do with it. For some fucked up reason that I’m not willing to look into, I like it when he’s rough and commanding.
But I don’t hate this either.
I watch his every move as he releases me and moves to stand at the side of his bed. He unfastens each button of his vest, one at a time, keeping his gaze locked on me as he does. Then he starts on the buttons of his shirt, and once they’re all free, he rolls his broad shoulders back, letting the fabric slip to the floor.
Dax has a glorious body. Not too muscular, but toned enough to have definition. He doesn’t need showy bulk to prove his strength, and I love that about him.
When his hands dip to his belt buckle, my eyes follow. He takes his time unfastening the leather then pulling it from the loops of his pants and dropping it to the floor. I’m transfixed on his fingers as he flicks the button through the hole then lowers his zipper, revealing his trademark black boxer briefs beneath.
With a little shove, his pants fall to the floor, his erection jutting toward me with a shiny pearl of precome glistening at the tip. I lick my lips and sit up, then launch myself at him.
He catches me, as I knew he would, but I wriggle free of his strong arms. He smirks as he loosens his grip, allowing me to slide down his body to the floor between his spread legs. I help him kick his shoes off, then his trousers, followed by his socks. I will not do the horizontal tango with a man wearing socks.
Once he’s completely bared to me, I let myself admire every inch of his exposed flesh. His long, lean build stands proud before me, and I salivate at the sight. “So pretty,” I murmur.
Dax scoffs. “Not the word I would have gone with.”
I chuckle as I wrap one fist around his length and peer up at him. “Oh, but it’s not about you,” I taunt, then swipe my tongue along the velvety flesh.
He lets out a groan of pleasure, and I curve my free hand around the back of his thigh, digging my nails into the muscle as I swallow him down. I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of him against my tongue.
“Stop,” he demands before I can get into it. “Get up and get naked. I’m not coming down your throat tonight, wife.”
That word sends ice through my veins, but I obey nonetheless, too turned on to defy him. Once my dress is pooling around my ankles, I arch a brow at him. “What now?”
Heat and promise fill his gaze as it rakes over my body. “Now, we seal the deal.”
He closes the small distance between us, digging his hands into my thighs and lifting me. I wrap my legs around his waist as he takes the two steps to reach the bed at my back. He drops us onto the plush comforter, me beneath his solid weight, and it feels so good. I close my eyes as he rolls his hips, the tip of his cock sliding between my folds.
“Condom,” I whisper, incapable of anything more.
He reaches under the pillow, producing a shiny, gold, foil wrapper with a grin on his face. I don’t even get out a witty retort before he’s tearing it open and sheathing himself.
I glide my palms up his strong forearms, over his shoulders and into his hair again. “You have three months,” I tell him.
His eyes narrow, the tip of his dick sitting right at my entrance, making me squirm. I want him inside of me. Now.
“Deal,” he says, then slams forward, burying himself to the hilt before drawing back and driving in again.
No more words are spoken.
No more words are needed.
I have three months to break his heart.
And mine too.
Last night went way better than I expected. For one, she agreed to my plan. And two, I got to wake up with her in my arms this morning. I’m going to go ahead and say we’re off to a good start.
She might have thought she was winning by altering the timeline to three months, but that was all part of my masterful plan. I knew there was no way on God’s green earth she’d agree to a whole year up front. So, I went in high, knowing she’d barter me down. I just didn’t expect it to go so smoothly. Not that I’m complaining. Sealing the deal was the perfect way to end the night and ring in the new day.
Adley murmurs something unintelligible in her sleep and wriggles deeper into my embrace. I curve my arm around her more securely, holding her tight as I brush my lips against the top of her head.
“Sleeping,” she grumbles.
She is the complete opposite of a morning person, and I am the epitome of one. But I don’t even care that she’s cranky and moody first thing when we wake because I also get to watch her sleep.
That might sound creepy, but I swear it’s not. I just enjoy the look of peace that blankets her features when she’s sleeping. It’s the one time she has no walls or defenses erected against me and the rest of the world. And it’s a beautiful thing to behold.
“Stop staring at me, weirdo” she groans, somehow burrowing deeper into the crook of my shoulder.
I roll my eyes. “Fine, I’ll make coffee then.” She nods and rolls over without another word, so I slide out of bed, snagging my boxers off the floor and tugging them on.
In the kitchen, I f
lick on the coffee pot then grab the creamer, sugar, and a couple of mugs from the cupboard. Placing them all on the counter, I duck into the bathroom, relieve myself then brush my teeth. By the time I’m done, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air of my small apartment.
I fix us both a cup, then return to the bed where Adley is, unsurprisingly, sound asleep again. I set the mugs on my side table and climb in behind her, dragging her body back into mine. “Wake up, baby. I have caffeine, and we have more to talk about.”
“Ugh,” she groans, burying her head under a pillow.
“I made it just the way you like it,” I taunt. “Even got that hazelnut creamer you love so much.”
She lifts the pillow and peeks one eye open, then frowns. “Well, where is it?” She makes grabby hands at me as I turn over to retrieve her mug before handing it to her. She shuffles until she’s sitting up, careful not to spill a drop as she does.
I’m a smart man, so I prop myself against the headboard as I wait for her to consume a decent amount of her morning brew before I speak. “I was thinking I’d move into your place since it’s bigger than mine,” I tell her, then wait for her reaction. When she remains silent for what could be a full minute, I try again. “Or, I mean, you can move in here. I just thought you’d prefer to be in your own space. But I’m cool with whatever you want.”
Only after she’s drained the last drop from her mug does she answer me. “My place. And you’re not terminating your lease here. When this three months is over, you’ll be moving back.”
“So pessimistic, but okay. I’ll keep my lease. But just so you know, you’re wrong about this. At the end, you’re going to love me as much as I love you and the very thought of being separated from me is going to drive you mad.” I grin.
She snorts. Like, actually snorts, like a little pig.
I have never, in all the years I’ve known Adley, heard her snort before. So I gape, and she simply rolls her eyes before sliding off the edge of the bed to get herself a refill.
“If anything was going to drive me mad, it would be the way you hog the blankets, or the way you never replace the cap on your toothpaste.” She strolls back over to me and sits on the side of the bed. “I didn’t agree to this so you can prove your point to me, Dax. I agreed so I can prove my point to you.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “And what point would that be?”
“That I’m no good for you. Or anyone for that matter. Love and I are not compatible. You’re just too stubborn to see it right now.”
She has to be kidding with this shit. “Is that fucking right?”
“Afraid so, and you’ll see it, too, soon enough.”
“Who fucked you up so badly that you can’t accept the most pure and natural thing in the world? Hmm? Who hurt you, Adley?”
Her jaw tenses, and she turns away, her knuckles whitening as she clutches the mug and stares off at nothing.
Sighing, I return my coffee to my nightstand and shift behind her. Wrapping my arms around her middle, I rest my chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it now. But one day, Ads, you’re going to have to tell someone.”
She relaxes slightly and takes a long sip of her drink. “We’ll see.”
By the end of the weekend, I’ve moved what I’ll need for the next few months into Adley’s one-bedroom apartment. She’s super private about her personal space that it took a year of us sleeping together before she even let me come here.
Now look at us. This is what I call progress.
“Don’t kill any of my plants or I’ll smother you in your sleep,” she warns as I drop a box next to one of her many, many potted plants.
I honestly thought she was screwing with me the first time I came here. I was sure this couldn’t possibly be her apartment. What, with all the plants and books and shit. It just wasn’t the Adley I knew. Turns out, that was because I didn’t know the real her back then.
Her apartment is her zen zone. It’s all green, airy, and light; everything Ads is not. Well, to the outside world that is. She puts on this tough, badass exterior that pushes people away, and it works like a freaking charm. But that’s not who she is inside.
I only get to see glimpses of that person on occasion, and when I’m here, in her space. I wish she could let go of whatever is holding her back and let the world see the incredible woman she is. But until she’s ready for that, I’d settle for her opening up to just me.
In the meantime though, I’ll work with what I’ve got.
“I don’t know why you brought so much stuff. You’ll just have to cart it all back home when this is done,” she says, kicking one of the boxes I’ve piled up next to one of her bookshelves.
I shrug, giving her nothing and refusing to have the same pointless argument with her again. Instead, I change the subject completely. “What do you want for dinner? I’m starving.”
She’s sitting in her high-backed, floral-printed velvet armchair—that looks very throne like—with a book in her hands. Not bothering to lift her focus from the page, she says, “You choose. I’ve gotta go into work in a couple of hours, so I’ll probably just grab something there.”
This is news to me. “Ah, you do realize part of this whole living together as man and wife thing requires a little more communication than we generally maintain, right? As in, I’m going to want to share meals with you and have actual conversations while we eat together. That kind of thing.”
Her gaze lifts just enough to glance at me over the top of her book. “I must have missed that in the fine print.”
I cock a brow then close the space between us, coming to a stop when my feet meet hers. I pluck her precious book from her hands, place it gently on the brass coffee table beside her throne, then lean down, gripping the arms of the chair as I get in her face.
Tilting my head, I rake my gaze over her deer-caught-in-headlights expression. “Okay, let’s cover it all now then, shall we? We’ll be eating together at least once a day. I know your job is going to be an issue with dinners, so we can make it lunches or breakfasts. Whichever suits you better,” I tell her with a shrug.
“But make no mistake, I’m going to date the shit out of you, Adley. In, wait for it… public! Scandalous I know, but it’s a legitimate thing couples do. You know what else? We’re going to watch movies and snuggle on the couch with popcorn and snacks and make out like horny teenagers whenever the mood strikes.”
She opens then closes her mouth, repeatedly, like a starving goldfish, and I can’t help but grin like a lovesick devil.
Oh shit. What have I done?
I thought agreeing to let him move in for a few months would be enough to satisfy this insane notion that we’re meant to be. But what the shit am I supposed to do with all this other stuff?
I’ll cave, I know it. It’s going to be hard enough to resist him while he’s in my space, but I was prepared to do it to prove my point. But this… dates and meals and freaking snuggling. Oh hell no. Nope. No woman on Earth could keep her walls intact with all that going on.
Words. I need to find words and make them come out of my mouth. Taking a deep breath—big mistake, he smells so good—I squeeze my eyes closed and attempt to get my bearings.
God damnit. This was the stupidest idea ever.
Shaking my head, I steel my spine, and when I open my eyes, I nail him with a glare that could melt the skin off a polar bear. “I didn’t agree to any of that. You’re changing the rules when the game’s already begun. And I don’t play with cheaters.”
He scoffs and brings his face even closer to mine, his breath skating over my parched lips as he says, “Oh, baby girl, I’m playing to win and there is no backing out now.” Then he captures my bottom lip between his teeth and sucks on it as one hand curls around the back of my neck, holding me in place.
It takes everything I have not to turn to putty in his hands. With inner strength I didn’t know I had until this moment, I place both my palms on his chest and shove him away. Hi
s wide-eyed shock is quite rewarding, but I’m not done yet. I scowl up at him. “It’s cute that you think I’ll just roll over and do anything you say. It’s like you don’t know me at all.”
The bastard just smirks, bringing my irritation to a whole new level. Then he has the gall to wink and say, “I know you, Ads, better than you think I do. And I’m not pulling any punches this time around.” He turns around, scoops up his duffle bag of clothes from by the front door, and carries it to my bedroom.
Well shit.
Looks like I’m well and truly fucked.
It’s official, Dax is trying to kill me.
Eight days. That’s how long we’ve been cohabiting, and how did I not know the man sleeps naked, like every-single-night, until now? I always assumed he slept naked when we had sleepovers because, well, easy access? I don’t know. But, apparently, it’s just one of the things I didn’t know about prior to this new arrangement. Another would be his vast collection of grey sweatpants, the ones he puts on pretty much as soon as he walks in the door from work every afternoon. Oh, and underwear, pfft who needs it. Evidently not Dax.
Maybe I should turn the heat down? That’d force him to cover up all that god gave him. But do I really want that? Probably not. He’s just so pretty to look at… Damn him.
I can’t even get pissed with him for his bathroom habits, which in itself is really freaking annoying. I want to have an excuse for my irrational anger, but he’s giving me nothing. He puts the toilet seat down when he’s done. He closes the door when he’s… you know… doing his thing in there. He even wipes the damn vanity over after he brushes his teeth.
He has, however, taken to calling me wifey. Which I hate. So, there’s that. But I mean, really, he could give me something better to work with than that. It’s not enough. I need more, damn it.
I glance at the massive clock I have up on the wall. It’s almost six. He’ll be home any minute. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I look around the apartment in the desperate hope I’ll find something to complain about. And then it hits me like an anvil. I let his comment last week about dating me in public, slide. At the time I was more about getting my shit together and not spontaneously combusting over him being a bossy bastard. But now, now I can pull that shit out and smoosh it in his smug face.