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“Because I won’t fall for your BS? So sorry…” Her voice drips sarcasm.
I love Sloan’s backbone. But right now, it’s frustrating the hell out of me. “We need to talk about this for us.”
“Us? You married me for a business deal. You fooled me, I admit. For a whole night, I really believed you might not be like every other man in my life, twisting me up and sweet-talking until you got what you wanted, then inevitably proving that I never meant a damn thing to you.”
I wince. “I’m nothing like Darren your ex or Bruce Rawson. And I wasn’t lying. Corporate games aside, I love you.”
“We can’t put the corporate games aside. You schemed and plotted, telling me exactly what you thought I wanted to hear. You married me to get your hands on Reservoir for your boy, Evan. And you had sex with me to keep my brains scrambled. You’re good; I’ll give you that. It almost worked.”
“That isn’t the only reason I married you. And it damn sure isn’t why I took you to bed.”
Sloan rolls her eyes. “Stop. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
“Baby, I can’t fake this.” I take a huge fucking gamble and wrap my fingers around her wrist, tugging her closer and settling her palm over the steely erection that sprang to life as she opened the door.
She gasps, her fingers slowly curling around my length, almost as if she can’t bring herself to let me go. Her startled gaze bounces up to me. Electricity arcs between us.
Now is my moment.
Tangling my free hand in her fiery hair, I tilt her head exactly where I want her. “And I sure as fuck can’t fake this, either.”
A heartbeat later, I cover her lips with mine, licking at her pouty bottom curve before nudging them apart. She opens to me, and the instant her honey-cinnamon flavor hits my senses, something feral unfurls inside me.
Groaning, I tug on her hair and release her wrist to palm her ass in the skintight yoga pants, then press myself against her, greedily grabbing a handful of her backside while consuming every delectable inch of her mouth. But my wife is stiff, not moving, not breathing, not touching me in return.
Fuck. I need to downshift. She’s saying no without saying anything. Even if it kills me to let go now, I need to respect her boundaries. Then I need to find another way to prove how I feel.
Why the fuck didn’t I anticipate the Becca question causing a problem between us?
I wrench away from Sloan, breathing hard, my heart like a battering ram inside my chest. I stare into her eyes, which have gone a dark, seductive blue.
My hope sparks. “Baby?”
She scowls. “Don’t tell me you love me. Just take off your fucking clothes.”
Her words have barely registered when she fuses her lips to mine and attacks the buttons of my dress shirt.
I should insist we talk first…but thrill spikes through my bloodstream, searing my veins. I grab the pert curves of her ass with both hands again and haul her against my cock with a groan, grinding into my wife with an insistence that soon has her tossing back her head with a throaty curse of need.
I drop my lips to her exposed shoulder—undisturbed by a bra strap—nipping and tonguing it before working my way up her neck to bite at her lobe. She may not want to hear that I love her, but she didn’t say anything about desire. “For days, I’ve thought of nothing but how good you feel when I’m inside you. Give me your nipples, baby. I want my mouth on them.”
She whimpers, finally freeing the last buttons of my shirt, then dropping her hands to my fly. “Shut up and get naked faster.”
“You, too.” I tear the sweater over her head.
Sloan grunts in frustration that I force her hands to leave my zipper as she starts to work it down, but the second her sweater hits the floor, she reaches for me again, yanking my fly wide open as I lift one of her breasts to my waiting mouth.
With a groan, I take my first pull on the bullet-hard nipple. My groan deepens when she wraps her hot hand around my erection and squeezes. We both shudder, breaths hard and melding in the scant space between us.
If I don’t get inside her in the next two minutes, I’m going to lose my mind.
A voice in the back of my head screams that we need to talk more than we need to fuck…but with Sloan stroking me and the scent of both strawberries and her feminine arousal filling my head, I can’t remember why.
Instead, I push her pants down her hips at the same time she shoves my shirt off my shoulders. I press my bare chest to hers, hissing at the sizzle of skin on skin. She gives me a throaty little whine at the contact before sinking her teeth into my shoulder and brushing her thumb across the head of my cock.
Holy shit. “I need to be inside you.”
“Then shut up.” She licks her way across my skin. “And do it.”
