Page 54 of The Marriage Mistake

“Why does it feel like you’re asking me to set a broken bone with zero anesthesia?” he asked, lips twitching.

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s for you to figure out on your own,” I said. “Now let’s get this over with. Kiss me.”

A noise escaped him, a low grunt that sounded like it came from deep in his throat. His fingers spasmed on my waist, clenching tight. Then, in a low murmur, he said, “Yes, ma’am,” and dipped his head toward me.

I knew he could feel me trembling. I could feel it in the way his hands stroked my sides, in the gentle, nibbling kisses he pressed against my pinched lips. His mouth curved against mine, and he said, “Relax, babe.”

“Have you already forgotten what I said about pet nam⁠—”

Jack interrupted me with a kiss. This one wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t nibbling. It was a full-on, open-mouthed deep kiss with lots of tongue. The kind of kiss I’d seen in the movies and never actually experienced. The kind of kiss that sent me reeling, that made me clutch his shoulders like they were the only thing keeping me upright.

Because it wasn’t just a kiss, was it? It was the way his arms tightened around me. How his fingers sank into the flesh over my hips and dipped under the hem of my sweater. How that low, rasping grunt escaped him and sent shivers spiraling through my core.

The full weight of his attention bore down on me. It swept me up and carried me right off my feet, like I was being hurled out into a raging, dark sea. His palms flattened against the bare skin of my lower back, fingers of one hand curling into the waistband of my skirt. Holding me against him, so I had no choice but to press myself up against his chest.

Against his erection.

It was heaven. It was hell. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. All of a sudden, my body was on fire, and I had no idea how to douse the flames. I wanted him to keep touching me forever, to let those big, warm hands stroke over every inch of my body. I wanted to tear his clothes off and lick the salt from his skin. I’d lost my damn mind.

Jack grunted, one hand curled into the waistband of my skirt, the other reaching down to hook my thigh over his hip. He pulled me tight to him, hiking my leg up so my skirt rode up to the crook of my hip. His big hand splayed over my flank, squeezing as he stroked the fabric of my tights.

“These skirts drive me insane,” he said against my lips, tightening his hold on the waistband of the garment.

“What?” I was dazed. I couldn’t think straight.

“Walking around my house with your ass looking like a dream,” he growled, then kissed the protests right off my tongue. “Making me imagine you bent over every surface for me to enjoy.”

I flushed from head to toe in an instant. I’d never—that wasn’t something that had ever crossed my mind. Jack wanting me. Really wanting me. Watching me and thinking about bending me over so he could use my body. Why did that make me so hot? It should’ve been a turn-off, but a pit opened up in my stomach and I wanted that. Wanted him desperate for me. Wanted him feral with his need to have me. To use me for his own pleasure.

It was too much. Too intense. Tearing myself away, I shoved at his chest with a palm and teetered as I landed on both feet again. His back knocked against the wall, and I felt the pounding of his heart beneath my hand.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said, my face hot with a deep blush. The space between my legs pulsed relentlessly. I couldn’t get a full breath in.

His hands dangled at his sides, and he reached one hand over to toy with the hem of my sweater. He tugged on it ever so gently: an invitation. I could still feel the imprint of his palms against my skin, the press of his fingers into my flesh. “Not what you meant?” he grated, chest heaving on a big inhale.

“We’re not going to be kissing like that in front of anyone.”

“We can if that’s what you’re into,” he said, and I jerked my head up to see a wicked smile curving his lips.

Hot embarrassment singed my chest. I huffed and grabbed the doorknob, wrenching the door open and staring at the hallway beyond. “Okay. Well. Goodnight.”

Jack didn’t move. “Ember.”

“We can talk about a public activity tomorrow. Anywhere else people go on dates around here? We should probably continue to be seen together every day.”

“Ember.”

“The more people see us together, the more convincing it’ll be that we’re actually into each other.”

This time, when I stopped talking, Jack was silent. Somehow, I found the courage to look him in the face. His eyes were dark, his lips pinched. His chest heaved, and from the corner of my eyes, I could see the bulge in the front of his pants. “Right,” he said. “I’ll think of something.”

“Great.” I gave him a big, fat, fake smile and swept my hand toward the door. The second he was out, I closed it behind him and let out a gusting breath. That had gotten out of hand.

I crossed the room and sat at the tiny desk shoved on the far side of the bed. The chair was too hard, its back too straight, but the discomfort soothed me. I opened my laptop and focused very hard on plugging it in and booting it up. Soon, my workstation was ready, and I had spreadsheets lighting up my screen.

I worked until the full moon shone through the window. Until my back was sore and there was no hint of the heat that had burned through me like a wildfire. Until I was quite sure that when I collapsed in my rickety bed, I wouldn’t be thinking about Jack Mars at all.

Then I got into bed and thought of him anyway. Twisted and turned until I gave up and slipped my hand between my legs. Imagined him pushing me down over the edge of the kitchen table so he could fuck me the way he wanted.