Page 38 of Pretend Wife

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The warm water did nothing to ease the tension in my shoulders. You’d think having the wedding over would have offered me some kind of relief, but if anything, I felt more tightly wound than before. The wedding was the easy part. Now I had to survive months of actually being married to Danielle.

I pressed my forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall, letting my eyes fall shut.

My hand drifted down to strangle my cock while images of Danielle danced behind my lids. I picturedhow she’d looked the moment I pulled back from our kiss, the way her chest had heaved against the bodice of her wedding dress as she pulled air into her lungs. I could still feel her breath against my lips, could feel the way my heart pounded like it wanted out of its cage, like it was trying to get to the woman with flushed cheeks and wide eyes standing before me.

Only in my fantasy, I didn’t end it there.

I went back for more. My lips crashed against hers and I grabbed her waist, pulling her closer until her body was flush with mine.

She gasped into my mouth, and a groan rumbled deep in my throat.

I lowered one hand to the slit in her skirt and wrapped my fingers around her thigh. My hold was tight enough to leave a mark, and I liked that idea way more than I should have. I wanted to mark her, to prove that she was mine in case the giant fucking rock I’d given her wasn’t enough to get the message across.

My mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and then down her neck, nibbling and sucking at her skin. I was damn serious about marking her.

“Hayden,” she breathed. The sound of my name falling from her lips, all breathy, was too much. She was too fucking much.

I tightened my grip on her thigh and hiked up her leg, wrapping it around my waist and pressing into the extra space the new position created.

“Dani,” I groaned into her neck. “Fuck, baby, I need this dress off. Please.” I was fairly sure I’d never begged a woman for anything in my life—unless we were counting begging mymom for a puppy when I was seven—but I honestly felt like I might die if I didn’t get rid of the clothes between us.

“Damage the dress, and I’ll kill you,” Danielle said when I reached for the neckline.

For some reason, my body found the thought of her threatening murder incredibly hot, my cock swelling even more.

She reached behind her, and several agonizing seconds later, the material of her dress fell away, leaving her in nothing but a pair of white panties and those stick-on bra things women wore with fancy dresses.

I couldn’t look away from the expanse of smooth, tawny skin over her stomach. I wanted to drop to my knees, peel those silk panties off, and bury my face between her thighs. Would she taste as sweet as I imagined?

“Are you just going to stand there staring?”

I blinked. “Yes.”

She laughed softly, and God, I loved her laugh. “Doesn’t seem very fair to me.”

“What doesn’t, Sunday School?”

“You’re still wearing all your clothes.”

I smirked. “If you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask.”

She didn’t say a word as she closed the space between us, her delicate fingers reaching for my belt.

I couldn’t hold back my groan as she palmed my hard-on. “Dani.” I wasn’t sure if I was begging for her to stop or for more.

Her fingers curled around my dick, and she moved with tentative strokes. Her gaze flicked up to mine, and the trusting look in her eyes was my undoing.

The pressure at the base of my spine broke, andbursts of light exploded behind my lids. I threw my head back as I came.

As the high faded, I came back to reality. Water pounded against my back, I still had one arm pressed to the wall of the shower, and my breaths were coming out in soft pants.

Shit.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come so hard, especially while jerking off by myself. Actually, that was a lie. I knew exactly how long it had been. Eight fucking months. The same amount of time I’d gone without tasting Danielle’s lips.

Double shit.

I stayed in the shower for a ridiculous amount of time like the fucking coward I was. But eventually my growling stomach convinced me to get out. There was hiding and then there was staying away from your own kitchen because you were too chickenshit to see the girl you’d just fantasized about while rubbing one out.