Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“You’re already miserable? From what everyone says, that’s the sign of a real marriage.”
“That’s not what I meant. But…we’re clearly sexually attracted to each other. I don’t think I’ll get the sound of you begging me to make you come out of my head for a long time.”
I covered his face with my hand. Elliott laughed and licked it. “I didn’t beg.” I asked politely.
“Yes, you did, beautiful, and damned if I don’t want to make you do it again.” His voice dropped an octave, and it was already low and sexy. My stupid dick twitched between us.
“I’m tired. Can you finish making your point?”
“We’ll be together for months, we’re attracted to each other, we have a good time together—and don’t try to pretend we don’t. It’s because we enjoy each other so much and somehow manage to let go when we’re together that we’re in this position in the first place. I have to admit, something about you has its hooks in me… I’ve been obsessed with you since that first night in the bar.”
“Should I be worried you’re stalking me?”
“Yes,” he deadpanned. “Really, you intrigue me, and I think that’s mutual. And I date. It’s not like I don’t. Emotional intimacy interests me, maybe because I’ve never had it, and I’m curious if I could feel those things…”
“So this is an experiment?”
He groaned, clearly exhausted by me. “I want to date you, gorgeous. I want to learn more about you. I want to find all the ways I can to make you come and to make you laugh. It makes me feel…fuck, I don’t know…powerful, yeah, but also important, like I’m doing something good. Even more than that, because making you laugh makes me feel good. It’s weird as fuck.”
My pulse throbbed against my skin, the beat of my heart echoing through my ears. That was both really self-important and…sweet. Ugh. Why was Elliott Delgado Weaver so sweet?
He continued, “All I’m saying is, let’s enjoy this. Let’s just…let go and have fun and see what happens. Why shouldn’t we have a good time while we’re in this marriage? Have some orgasms and go on some dates and have a good time? That’s a better option than suffering through it. I’ve been trying to get you to date me for a damn year. You’re my husband. Can’t I get you to give it a try now?”
“You’ve been trying to get me to have sex with you for a year.” I had to admit, though, what he’d said sounded strikingly similar to what I’d thought myself at his parents’ house tonight—wanting to let go, make the best of this, just enjoy it. Maybe going into it knowing the rules would keep my heart from getting involved. I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t expect the man who liked being single and wasn’t looking to settle down to fall for me. I would have to make sure I didn’t fall for him, while also having really hot sex and spending time with someone who was annoyingly entertaining to be with.
“Yes and no,” Elliott replied. “I can’t pretend I don’t want to fuck you, but like I said, you intrigue me too. If not, I would have lost interest a long time ago.”
And if he didn’t intrigue me, I would have told him to stop and leave me alone a long time ago, but I never did, even though Elliott had said that was all I had to do.
“We’ll go into this with the caveat that we’re one hundred percent honest with each other. If we don’t want to date anymore, or if one of us starts to feel something more, we talk about it. We’re adults. We can handle that.”
“Funny how only one of us acts like an adult,” I teased.
“Thank you.” He grinned.
“Not you!” I laughed. Why, why, why could he make me laugh so easily? “I need to think about this. I’m not making a decision with post-orgasm syndrome.”
Elliott chuckled. “Deal.” He reached up and cupped my face. “Why do I enjoy you so much?” he asked softly, as if to himself.
“I’d say it’s my ass, but you haven’t had that yet.”
“Yet! You said yet!”
“Argh!” I groaned, covering my face this time, and damned if my hand didn’t smell like cum…which was hot. “I really do hate you. Now let me up. I need to go to bed. I’ll think about your weird-ass idea.” He moved, and I sat up.
Elliott said, “I wonder where you’ll take me for our first date…”
I noticed how I was the one taking him on this fake date. “I’m ignoring you.” And I was also trying not to look at him because then I might jump him again.
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean up our clothes,” he said as I walked naked toward the stairs.
“That’s what husbands are for,” I teased, hurried to my room, and fell against the closed door.