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I let out a moan of pain and pleasure, writhing against his naked body until I remembered what the fuck I was talking about again.
“We seem to be living under the same roof, married, and having sex for the foreseeable future,” I said, trying to sound sensible. “But that isnotthe same thing as married people who live together and fuck.”
Kip’s hand trailed from one breast to the other.
“Mm-hmm,” he hummed.
“Kip,” I snapped.
Blue eyes found mine.
“This could get really fucking messy if we let it. We’re best friends with two people who are going to be together forever, and I’m not planning on leaving this place once I do get my Green Card. We both know this marriage is not forever.”
Kip’s face turned slightly more serious.
“But,” I continued, “we’re both sensible people who don’t seem to be romantics. Therefore, we can be married—on paper—and live together and fuck without it turning into some fucking Hallmark movie with an unfortunate ending that they never actually show. So, we’re going to fuck because it turns out you’re pretty good at it—”
“Pretty good?” he interrupted, his hand now going downward, spreading my legs, and pushing his finger inside, to where I was already wet for him.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. I was already sensitive there, since his cock was fucking big and he knew how to use it.
“Passable,” I moaned.
He grinned at me when he removed his finger and put it in his mouth.
“You’re pretty passable too.”
I smirked right back at him. “I know I’m more than passable, honey,” I drawled. “Therefore, I know my pussy might have some kind of magic to make you think there could be something more here. That you could love me or something like that. That’s when it gets messy.”
All teasing left Kip’s eyes, and his mouth was a thin line. “I’m not gonna fall in love with you.”
I flinched at the chill in his voice, not expecting it.
Something inside me flinched, too, for some other reason. Some kind of hurt I had no right to feel. I was the one bringing up this conversation, who wanted to make sure this was only sex. But his words were so harsh, they cut me, nonetheless.
“Okay, good,” I said, forcing my voice to be bright. “Then we’re not going to have a problem. We’ll fuck without strings, we’ll play nice for the audience, and once the time is right, we’ll have a clean divorce and go back to our respective lives.”
Kip nodded once. “But we’re not divorced yet.”
Then he rolled me onto my back, deftly slipping his hard cock inside me, showing me the benefits of having a husband who was more than passable at sex.
* * *
Whistles sounded as I strutted through the building site.
I grinned, not as bothered as I would normally be with the catcalling. Especially since I had a sense about what was coming next.
“Hey!” a familiar voice boomed. “Next person to whistle at my fucking wife is out of a job and a tongue.”
“I can’t help that I look this good, but you can control those mouths. Come on, boys,” I called out, turning my attention to where Kip’s voice came from.
He was shaking his head at me when he emerged from the depths of the house, wearing his cap, a dirty tee, and the faded jeans that did all the right things for him.
“You here to cause trouble?” he asked when he made it to me, holding on to the belt loop in my jeans and yanking me toward him. I was wearing a white tank with a lace bra that did not mask my nipples hardening with his nearness.
“Me? Cause trouble?” I said innocently. “Never. I just came to bring my husband his lunch.” I held up the basket I’d been carrying.
He looked from me to the basket. “Did you make it?” he asked dubiously.
