Page 72 of The Almost Romantic


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I’m going to have to be seriously careful because I could fall for my wife. When we break the kiss, she looks up at me with heat in her eyes, and something more.

Something like gratitude.

Like safety.

Like…calm in the midst of chaos.

Then she whispers, “Thank you,” and I can hear how much this means to her. But there was never any question for me.

After we sign the marriage license and return our clothes, Maven says she sent the pictures over via email. We thank her, then leave the chapel. Elodie nods toward the casino, promising hours of entertainment. “Our flight doesn’t leave till two. Want to play the slots?”

I shake my head then haul her against me in the middle of the hallway outside the Vegas wedding chapel. “I have another idea.”

She shudders, her voice trembling as she asks, “What is it?”

I press a possessive kiss to her lips. Passionate, and a promise too. This is not a fake engagement anymore. This is a marriage, and I want something badly.

Deeply.

So much I can feel it in my marrow.

I pull back. “I want to fuck my wife.”

29

TAKE ME

Gage

Thank fuck the hotel isn’t sold out today. But if it were, I’d have marched to every hotel on the Strip to find some privacy for even fifteen minutes with this woman.

When we reach the door to our room, she smiles coyly. “You and me and hotels. This is becoming a habit.”

“Hotel sex should be a regular one.” I stop for a second. “No—sex should be a habit,” I quickly revise…because seriously. There’s no point playing the virtue card any longer. Hell, we’ve barely been playing it so far. I move behind her, sweep her hair off her neck, and dust a kiss there as I swipe the key over the pad. “Can this be one of the perks of our temporary marriage?”

She murmurs as I kiss her. “Let’s see how good you are at convincing me of the marital benefits.”

I growl against her skin as I turn the handle. “I’m very persuasive…Mrs. Archer,” I tease, even though she didn’t take my name.

A laugh comes from her as she steps inside. “Or maybe it’s Mr. Starling.”

The second the door shuts, I haul her against me, her chest flush to mine. “Call me whatever you want…when you’re coming undone.”

“Deal,” she says, and then I start making good on my part of the bargain. I back her up to the wall, hold her face, and crush my mouth to hers.

Like I wanted to do in the chapel. At the front desk. In the hallway.

Finally.

It’s such a relief to kiss her behind closed doors. To kiss her without worrying about who’s out there in the store, or in the restaurant, or in the bar.

I kiss her deeply, thoroughly, like I plan to take her apart, orgasm by orgasm, here in this hotel room high up above the city of sin.

I devour those sweet lips, kissing off her lipstick as she ropes her arms around my neck, warm and pliant, tipping her head back.

A sign.

Letting me know how she wants to be kissed.

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