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I lean into her space, inches from her lips. “You going to tell the judge how you were so wet for me?”
She swallows, her eyes wide. “That’s not fair.”
I never agreed to play fair, so I keep going, “You going to tell him how you rode against my cock?”
“I..umm,” she breathes out.
“Are you going to tell the courtroom how I had you moaning my name? How you were practically begging for it?”
Her eyes are on fire. “You’re an asshole.”
“An asshole you’re going to marry.” And then I do something I don’t plan. I grab her around the waist and press my lips against hers. Hard.
I can’t stop kissing her, and she doesn’t push me away. Instead, she pulls me closer, dancing her tongue along mine. I can’t get enough of her, and I press my growing hard-on against her. The moment she feels it, she backs away, breaking the kiss.
“The wedding is off,” she breathes out.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” I swipe my thumb against my bottom lip. “This wedding is very much on.”
Without another word, she walks away.
Before she can get very far, I call out to her, “I’ve set up a meeting with you and a wedding planner on Monday.” I can’t hide the amusement in my voice.
“I’m not going.” She stops walking and turns around, crossing her arms, and I wish I could kiss the stubborn out of her.
“Yes, you are.”
“Will you be there?”
I smirk. “I won’t pretend I know anything about planning a wedding. And I know my presence at that meeting would only hinder your decisions, delaying the whole process.” I step back. “So, I think it’s best you handle the wedding preparations yourself.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
She crosses her arms against her chest. “No, we’re in this together, buddy.”
“Buddy?”
“Yes, you and me. Husband and wife. Bride and Groom. This is a joint effort.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can’t I just promise you your dream wedding and call it a day.”
“No. And if you don’t accompany me, I’ll make this the wedding of your nightmares.”
“Fine, I’ll text you the details. Monday at three.”
“I’ll be there,” she says, walking back across the grass. “Be ready to pick flowers and all that fun stuff.” Now she’s the one unable to hide her amusement.
I shamelessly watch each step she takes back toward the house. There’s no way I’m letting her go with some silly breach of contract. My phone rings just as she steps inside.
“What’s up?” I answer it.
“Sir,” Stefan says, “there’s a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“It’s your brother.”
