Page 109 of The Wife Situation

“I’ll accept it,” he says. “No questions asked. And you?”

“Same.” I suck in a deep breath, open it, and see a ONE. My heart drops, and then I see the ZERO next to it. “Asshole.”

He opens mine and sees the same.A ten. “You are too.”

I roll over onto my side so I’m facing him. His strong arm wraps around me, and we lie there as he holds me against his chest. The scents of cinnamon on our breath and campfire on our skin fill the tent.

“What does this mean for us?” I ask.

“It means we’re rule breakers. But most importantly, we’refucked.”

I close my eyes, unable to look at him, feeling my temperature rise as the electricity pulls us together.

“Easton,” I whisper.

“Lexi,” he says, moving closer—honestly, I didn’t know it was possible.

His lips are mere inches from mine, and I want to feel his mouth again. I hang by a thread, waiting, wanting, wishing, and needing to know if anything has changed between us from the first night until now.

He feels it too. I know he does.

“Once lines are crossed …” he whispers. “We can’t undo it.”

“I know,” I barely say, swallowing hard.

His nose brushes against mine, and butterflies flutter.

Is the risk worth the reward?

I inch forward, making the first move. Not giving a fuck anymore.

His soft lips and tongue capture mine as he runs his fingers through my hair, tugging. The kiss deepens, and I’m desperate for more of him. I know this man will be the one to burn me to the ground.

He growls against me, and his other hand rests on the small of my back, pushing me against him as I run my fingers through his messy hair.

“Fuck,” he hisses, tugging my bottom lip into his mouth, shaking his head.

I’m lost in his need for more, feeling how hard he is against me.

Whatever is going on between us is mutual. Right now, we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.

“Mmm,” I whimper, knowing I’m losing control, but it’s all happening too fast.

My eyes flutter open, and so do his.

“We shouldn’t,” he mutters, his lips brushing across mine like butterfly wings. Fierce desperation is written on his face, the same expression I’m wearing.

“I know,” I say.

“Are yousureyou’re anti-love?”

I search his eyes, falling deep into his blues. “I’ll give you my official answer on day fifteen.”

He smirks.“I’ll be waiting. I’m sorry. This should be done with a clear conscience, so there are no regrets,” he says.

He softly kisses me, and I breathe out, knowing he’s right as he stole my breath away.

“I hate it when you’re right,” I say, his nose rubbing against mine.

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