Page 67 of Bad Run

Temporary?

Something tells me I’m not going to like any of Gwen’s little rules. Instead of answering, I nod, curious at what she has to say.

“Good. Rule two: No sex.”

Fuck that.

Her aqua eyes pin me like two ocean-colored flames, daring me to challenge her. No use in fighting her now. I’ve gotta get my ring on her finger first.

Then I’ll work on her stupid rules.

I nod again, and she scribbles No sex on the paper, underlining sex three times.

Interesting.

“No kissing,” she says next.

“Disagree,” I answer too quickly, making Gwen frown. “We will need to provide a certain amount of PDA in front of others to sell the story.”

“Fine. But let’s limit it to hugging, hand-holding, and quick pecks. No tongue.”

The mention of tongue has me adjusting my pants. A memory of me tonguing her pussy, as she sucked my cock like a damn lollipop, pops into my head.

With a quick jerk, I nod and watch her write rule three: Limited PDA.

“My turn.”

“Okay. What would you like to add?” She twirls the pen between her fingers.

“You have to move in with me.”

The pen slips from her fingers and flies across the table with a clatter.

“What?” she asks with a gasp. Her eyes are practically popping out of her head, like a cartoon meme.

I reach for the pen and place it on the table. “We can’t live in separate homes.”

“But—”

I cut her off. “Married couples live together, Gwen. Besides, my house is new and has state-of-the-art security, so you’ll be safe while I’m on the road.”

The lie slips with ease, and I make a note to call Cam and take him up on his offer to get my place secure. Don’t know why, but I like the idea of her living in my home while I’m away.

“Fine, but I want my own bedroom,” she demands, recovering from her shock.

That’s the thing I like about Gwen: She’s tough as nails and says what she wants. But so do I, and separate bedrooms won’t work for me.

First, I have to get her through the door.

“As you wish,” I agree, then I hit her with my final requisite, and it’s a whopper. “Last rule: We get married tonight.”

She shakes her head. “There’s no way we can pull off a wedding on such short notice. There are dresses, and invites, and venues …”

“Breathe, Gwen.”

“Breathe,” she repeats and takes a deep, calming breath.

I reach across the table and place my hands on top of her shaking ones. Her skin is silky-soft, and like the first time I held her hand, tiny prickles of energy vibrate between us.