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17
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CONNOR
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The last of the boxesare taken upstairs, and I leave Mack to see the movers out. Since leaving the marines, I haven’t shared a living space, so it will take some adjusting having Mia in my home.
The novelty of having her sexy body to fuck whenever I want will soon wear out. Not that it’s why I’ve agreed to marry Mia Mancini, I remind myself.
I’m playing two fake roles here.
The first as her fiancé, as far as the world and her family are concerned. The second as a billionaire who wants a woman to fuck while benefiting from the trust she’ll get paid once we marry.
Jesus, she must think I’m an asshole.
I walk upstairs and find Mia in the guest room, going through a box. She’s in a pair of light sweatpants and a tight sleeveless sports top.
“You can store things you don’t need in here, but you will sleep in my bedroom,” I say, sticking with the role I’ve adopted.
I’m mildly concerned about the nightmares, but she’ll hear them if she’s in my bedroom or the guest room, so I’ll deal with it when it happens.
Mia turns her head.
“I know,” she replies with a sigh. “Do you really want me sleeping in your bed? Why don’t I sleep in here, and we can...you know...then go our separate ways.”
I almost smile.
Instead, I crouch and make her look at me. “And when your family visits and sees your bedroom? What then?”
She lets out a groan.
“I’m not fucking with the mafia and doing this halfheartedly. If I’m going to lie to Joe Mancini, we do it my way, or not at all.”
She turns back to her box and mutters something aboutI could say you snore.
“Mia...”
She climbs to her feet in a rush as I stand. We collide. I grab her arms and fight the urge to slam my mouth down on hers.
“What?” she asks breathlessly, just as affected by our closeness.
Which is not the plan.
I’ll fuck her and enjoy it, but I don’t want to desire her this much. This powerfully. Not like this. Not like I need her lips on mine in the next sixty seconds.
Then, I remember. I’m not a gentleman, and I’ve told her I will take what I want from her, so I pull her tightly against my chest and lean down so our eyes meet, our mouths inches apart.
“Kiss me,” I demand.
Her pupils turn dark, the mist of that blue ice sparkling as she fights her desire. Then her lips part, and as I start to close the gap, Mia’s meeting me with the same passion we had the first night.
Our lips crush.
