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“Yeah?”
“It’s been peaceful.”
“Not at first.”
“That was more your fault than the location,” I remind him.
“True.” At least he doesn’t deny it.
I glance over at him, taking in the outline of his face. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You should be thanking my brother.”
“I don’t think you want me to thank him like I want to thank you,” I say lightly.
Perry literally growls, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me to him so I have no choice but to let him wrap me up in his strong arms. As if he’s never going to let me go. He readjusts us so my back is to his front, my ass nudging his cock and he rests his chin on my shoulder, his mouth so close to my ear his lips tickle me when he speaks.
“I don’t hate you anymore, wife.”
I bend my head, shivering when he kisses my neck. “Are you so sure about that?”
His hands begin to wander, touching all of his favorite spots on my body. My breasts. My hips. My stomach. When he rests his hand on my pussy, I part my legs, allowing him entry, desperate for his fingers to work their magic.
“I’m positive,” he whispers as he begins to slowly stroke me. “I told myself I wouldn’t do this. That I was too tired. But I can’t resist you.”
When he rolls me over onto my back, I realize I can’t resist him either.
He kisses me, and the foreign emotions rising within me are terrifying. Yet I chase after them anyway, seeking the high that only Perry can give me.
Chapter Eighteen
Perry
Winston calls meinto his office within ten minutes of my arrival at Halcyon. The moment I walk in, he’s gesturing for me to close the door and I do so, falling into one of the chairs that’s in front of his massive desk.
“How was the honeymoon?” he asks.
“Good.” I don’t need to go into detail. It’s none of his damn business anyway, what happened between me and Charlotte.
“Just good? That’s all you have to say?”
“You want me to tell you everything we did?” I raise my brows.
He seems amused. “If you’re willing to do so. Go for it.”
Irritation makes my blood hot. I’m still regretting we came home a day early, and I have no one to blame but myself.
“I’m not,” I snap. “What did you want to talk about?”
Winston chuckles. “So sensitive.”
I stare at him, annoyed.
“Let’s talk about Seamus McTiernan.” Winston reaches into his desk drawer and drops a thin file folder on top of his desk. “I have some information for you to read when you get a chance.”
I stare at the folder, almost not wanting to open it. “We’re going old school, huh? They can’t send us the updates via email or text?”
“I put a guy on his tail that used to work for Dad.” Winston’s expression flashes with pain for the briefest moment. “He’s got one of the best noses in the business.”
