Page 61 of Her Fantasy Husband

Chapter Twelve

Josh woke slowly to a sense of well-being. This was the sixth morning he’d awoken in Lexi’s bed; it was starting to feel familiar and right. A little twinge of foreboding wormed its way into his mind. He ignored it, which was easy with Lexi curled up against him, all warm and soft. Her back was pressed to his front, his arm around her, one hand cupping her breast, his thigh thrown over hers.

He was already hard, and he eased back, reached behind him for a condom, rolled it on, and lifted her leg. Pausing, he nipped her neck with his teeth to wake her up—she wouldn’t want to miss this. She half-woke at that moment, and he squeezed her breast and then pushed inside her from behind. She was tight and wet and he filled her easily.

For a few seconds, he held himself deep inside her, savoring the feeling of rightness, and then he slowly withdrew. He slid his hand down over her stomach, through the soft curls that guarded her sex, and between her thighs to find the swollen nub.

She groaned as he stroked his finger lightly over her, then harder, keeping to the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out, slowly, no pressure, just the wonderful feel of her wrapped around him, the pleasure building, coalescing inside him. A shiver ran through her, her hips tensing, and then she came so sweetly for him, a sigh easing from her lips.

He released his control but kept his movements slow, letting the pleasure roll over him and drag him under.

Afterward he pulled her to him, curling her against him. They lay there for several minutes, until her breathing turned soft and slow.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He went still at the words, waiting for more, but she was already asleep. For a moment, something warm and tender twisted inside him. He shut the feeling down.

She’d been half asleep, not aware of what she was saying. Probably dreaming about some other, more suitable man. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even know him. Except he’d opened up to her more than he had to anyone else in his whole life. And his gut tightened at the thought.

This whole thing was fake. He couldn’t forget that. And in his saner moments—like when he dragged himself away from her so he could think with his head rather than with his cock—he knew he didn’t want more. He wasn’t capable of offering her more—he was damaged goods. The strange thing was, she knew that. He was pretty sure that’s where the attraction lay for her—she thought she was saving him.

Eventually, she’d realize there was nothing worth saving.

And where would he be then?

Exactly where he wanted to be, if he could only maintain his emotional distance. Forget all the “love” crap and in a few months he could walk away and get on with his life. Alone.

He shifted in the bed, unable to settle. He eased away from her, slid out from under the sheet, pulled on his jeans, grabbed a T-shirt, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. It was already 8:30, but they’d been awake half the night fulfilling fantasies. He’d added a few of his own to the mix.

He’d been neglecting work and needed to get into the office sometime today. Or maybe he needed to get away for a while. Get his head straight.

The kitchen was empty. Even Prudence was absent from her basket. He put on the coffee machine and sank into a seat at the kitchen table, wishing he had a cigarette. He hadn’t had one since he was ten years old and his mother had brought Evie back from the hospital. He’d made his mother give up smoking in the house as well, and she’d actually done the right thing for once.

I love you.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory of those traitorous words.

Lexi didn’t love him.

He wasn’t the sort of guy that women fell in love with. Hell, even his mother hadn’t loved him. Sometimes he’d been sure she hated him, had given Evie away because she knew it was the one thing that would hurt him the most.

Evie was the only person who had ever loved him, and she had no doubt forgotten him quickly. Children were like that. They gave their affection easily and forgot as fast. So Evie didn’t count.

Trouble was, Lexi was the sort of girl who couldn’t have sex without an emotional attachment. He’d known that from the start, which was why he’d fought this, tried to keep his distance.

Obviously not hard enough.

He scrubbed a hand over his hair, his fingers trembling. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t walk away and leave her in the lurch. And he didn’t think he could stick around and not have sex with her. Hell, he wanted her even now.

She’d been half asleep; she likely wouldn’t even remember what she’d said and would be horrified if he mentioned it. Maybe he should just pretend it never happened. But he could hear the soft words whispering in his ear.

Christ, just shut the fuck up.

If he stuck around, she would no doubt see him for what he was, a dead-end loser from a council estate in London, no education, no family…

God, he was a miserable bastard.

As he got up to pour a coffee, a car drew up outside the house, and he peered out the window. Lexi’s grandmother climbed out, and he swore under his breath. The doorbell rang a minute later. When no one else answered it, he went out himself, fixed a smile on his face, and opened the front door.

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