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Her body… motherfuck. Her body is my living fantasy. Long lines and gorgeous curves in all the right places have my hands and mouth desperate to feel and taste them.
She sets the dress over a chair, and then, still in her heels, with her red hair flowing all around her and her green eyes deadly and locked on me, she saunters in my direction. Her full breasts overflow the confines of her minimal white lace bra, bouncing and enticing, fucking mouthwatering as she reaches the space between my legs.
Using her heeled foot, she kicks them wider and inserts herself between them.
“Help me out of these?” she whispers, hiking up one foot and planting it on the bench seat beside me, her knee spread wide, putting her pussy right fucking here in front of me.
Fucking temptress.
I take her foot in my hand, and with my eyes on hers, I unhook the clasp on her shoe, removing the heel and setting it aside. She switches feet, and I repeat the motion. And once she’s barefoot, so small and delicate, my hands run up the backs of her legs, and I watch as goosebumps erupt across her skin.
“You can keep going. You can go all the way.”
Was she ever this bold before? Yes, she was. Just in a different way. A more timid way. A way that was asking instead of taking but offering all the same.
I shake my head at her, and she smiles, her fingers running through my hair, her nails scraping my scalp, and I hum from the pleasure of it. She’s not the only one who hasn’t had sex in a while. When you don’t talk a lot or trust people, or hell, even like people all that much, and live on the fringes of right versus wrong, sex is dangerous.
I think the last time I fucked someone was in the club Zax is still a member of because Aurelia likes to go there and play with him sometimes. But it was masked and anonymous, and this is not that. This is Georgia, and I need to say no.
But I want her too fucking badly. Even if it’s just for tonight.
“No.” I shake my head. “No, Georgia, we can’t.”
“Are you hard for me, Lenox?” she asks as she slips herself onto my lap and sets her pussy in her sheer thong straight over my throbbing cock. “Mmmm. Feels like you are.” She rocks forward, pressing against me, and I die right here with her in my lap. Her body shifts around on me until her tits are right up against my chin, her head angled playfully, and her cherry lips smiling, because I’m not just hard for her, I’m fucking stone, and she likes it.
I reach up and cup her tits, lifting their swell and dipping my mouth down to them. “Was this your plan all along?”
She emits a breathy laugh as I sink my teeth into her lace-covered nipples, my hands sliding to her hips, holding her steady so she can’t grind on my cock the way she’s trying to.
“Not even close. Tell me you don’t want it though.”
I can’t. I’ve wanted her every minute of every day for the last eight years. Even after I walked away from her, I wanted her. But that doesn’t make it right, and it certainly doesn’t mean I’m entitled to it after what I did to her.
“We shouldn’t.”
“It’s just this one time,” she whispers breathily, her head falling back and her hands going to my shoulders as I nip and lick and eat at her tits still partially kept from me in her bra. “Just to make the marriage official.”
God. I can’t say no. Not with her like this.
I grasp her wrists and yank them behind her back, thrusting her tits toward my face. “Did you forget how I do this?”
She shakes her head, her red tresses falling over her shoulders and framing her face, making her look like an angel ready to sin. “It’s exactly what I want. Can you give me this, Lenox? Can you fuck me like a bride and a whore all at once?”
Christ. I’m so fucked now.
Chapter Ten
It’s been the most ridiculous day. A day that started out with a long-ass flight and a panic attack and now has me sitting astride my fake husband’s lap asking him to fuck me. After I took care of the winnings—also freaking crazy—and was waiting on dinner, I called my mother and told her about Lenox.
She wasn’t happy I married him, but after I told her what Ezra had been up to, she relented. Some. I told her it was fake. I told her being married to him meant nothing because he doesn’t have a heart, and I won’t ever give him a shot at mine again. I won’t say that being married to Lenox doesn’t present its numerous challenges, but the relief coursing through me is too sweet to deny.
I know better than to believe Ezra and Alfie are done after the first round of strikes.
Only while I was speaking to her, I was struck with the anger of it all. With the manipulation of men. With them believing I’m some weak being here for their pilfering. My father was included in that. Who puts a stipulation in a will that their daughter has to be married in order to inherit?
Fuck. That.
So I flipped the tables on them. I took matters into my own hands, and now I control the narrative of my life and choices. And that’s what led me here.
