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A yawn slips out, so I kick off my flip-flops, remove my T-shirt, and climb onto the bed beside her. I remove the Glock from the back of my shorts and slide it under the pillow.
Closing my eyes, I mentally tell myself to wake up in four hours. It was a trick I learned in the Marines.
It works. Every single time.
So, it doesn’t surprise me when my eyes open and I lift my arm and see it’s five in the afternoon.
Whatdoessurprise me is the blonde hair draped over my chest and the arm tucked around me. And my own wrapped around Isabelle’s small, curvy hips.
My movement wakes her, and she lifts her face.
“Oh, shit,” she says, trying to roll away, but my arm around her blocks her. “Decker.”
I yawn. “Wish you’d stop throwing yourself at me.”
“I did not. You should have slept on the sofa,” she says, sitting and nudging my arm away.
I snort.
“Darlin’, I had my mouth on your pussy yesterday. I’m not sleeping on the sofa,” I growl playfully and pull her back down, leaning over her with my elbow on the pillow beside her face. “Anyway, you’re my wife, remember?”
“Pretend wife,” she snaps, even though the heat has gone from her fight.
Fuck, I want to kiss her.
“I should have got you a ring,” I say, and this tightness in my chest shocks me as I imagine slipping it on her finger and seeing her wearing it.
Marked as mine.
Isabelle blinks, suddenly serious, and I know I’ve triggered something.
Then, with another blink, it’s gone and the fervor in those baby blues is back. I feel my cock pressing into her hip as it hardens, and she licks those plump red lips.
God, she’s so warm and wanting that I’m pulled into the moment, and a bunch of words I never expected to say fall from my lips.
“I thought you were beautiful the first moment I saw you.”
I want to slap myself.
“Really?”
“You liked what you saw, too.”
“Confident much?” she replies, and I watch her fight a smile as my heart thunders away.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but this woman is a surprise. Suddenly, I wish we were in a different place at a different time, and I could spend all day and night pleasuring her.
“Confident enough to know you want me to make you scream. With my cock.” I rasp.
Then that fucking blink happens again, and she pushes at my chest.
I move, but I want to know what’s going on.
“No,” she says. “We can’t. I told you that.”
With your words. Not your eyes.
I flop back on the bed and tuck one arm under my head. “Fine. No sex. But you need to stop eye-fucking me constantly. I’m a man. Having a hard-on constantly is distracting.”
