Page 86 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
The truth in his voice broke something in me. My nails dragged down his back, my body moving with his. I hated how good it felt, how much I wanted him to keep going, keep saying those things that made it impossible to think.
My breath hitched, pleasure cresting too fast. He caught my face in his hands, holding my gaze as he pushed me over the edge. “That’s it,” he said softly. “I want to feel you all around me. I need you like this.”
I shattered, clinging to him through every wave, my head a tangle of guilt and craving. My body spasmed and my hands clawed at his flesh, begging for more. And Harrison kept going.
He drove into me again, deeper, his voice rough. “You have no idea how badly I want to stay here forever. How much I want to keep you like this.”
His words sank straight into my bones, stealing what was left of my breath. I couldn’t think—only feel him, all of him, his body straining against mine.
“Don’t let go of me,” he rasped, his pace turning urgent. “I need all of you.”
I held on, and a moment later he buried himself fully, groaning my name as he spilled into me, his body shuddering with the release. He stayed there, forehead against mine, breathing hard, as if letting me go wasn’t an option.
When he pulled out, I lay curled against his side, his arm heavy and warm around me. His breathing had evened out, and I thought he might be asleep until his fingers began brushing over my hip bone possessively.
"No regrets?" he murmured into my hair.
But I did have regrets. I regretted letting my emotions get involved in this because I knew it was just sex and what Harrison wanted wasn't a life with me. He wanted to save his daughter's school, and I was just compassionate—and maybe foolish—enough to want to help him. He wasn't unkind or inconsiderate, and if I'd have said no to sex tonight he'd have respected me.
But a man has needs, and I was, after all, his wife. It was only right that I should take care of his needs, right? And it was only fair that he would meet my needs—well, at least some of them. even if my emotional needs went unmet because I had some ridiculously unrealistic fairy tale expectations for this thing to work out as a happily ever after and not an "arrangement" that ended in five years.
"No regrets," I whispered back.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, and I felt myself beginning to drift toward sleep. But then Mom's harsh, rattling cough echoed through the thin walls, and reality crashed back in.
I went rigid in Harrison's arms. He felt the change immediately.
"What is it?"
How could I explain? How could I tell him that when he kissed me, I'd forgotten for a moment about Mom's diagnosis,about the five-year limit on our marriage, about all the ways this could end badly?
I was in love with a man who would walk away from me in five years. Assuming he didn't decide before then that the complications weren't worth it. Assuming Mom didn't get worse. Assuming I wasn't already carrying his child.
The thought sent ice through my veins. We hadn't used protection. In the heat of the moment, neither of us had thought about consequences at all except for once.
What if I was pregnant? What would that mean for our arrangement? What would it mean for the five years we'd agreed to?
I was in too deep now. There was no going back to the careful distance we'd maintained before. I'd crossed a line in my own heart tonight that I could never uncross, and I had no idea where it would lead us.
23
HARRISON
The boardroom felt heavy with judgment. I sat at one end of the polished table with Theodore Blackwood beside me, his briefcase open and documents arranged in neat stacks. Across from us, Dr. Caldwell presided over the meeting with his jaw locked and a stern expression on his face.
"We've called this meeting to address allegations regarding your conduct," Caldwell began, his fingers steepled. "Specifically, rumors of inappropriate relationships with staff members."
My jaw tightened. "I assume you have evidence to support these accusations."
Dr. Sterling leaned forward, her silver hair pulled back severely. "Multiple sources have reported concerns about your relationship with a female colleague. The timeline of your marriage, so soon after your father's death, raises questions about the nature of your arrangement."
I kept my voice level despite the anger simmering in my chest. "My marriage is legal and legitimate. Any suggestion otherwise is speculation." We'd get more educating done if theyjust came off this and let me live my life, but here we were, circling the proverbial mountain again.
David Henley shuffled through papers. "The concern isn't legality, Harrison. It's propriety. Your father built this institution on a foundation of moral excellence. These rumors undermine that legacy."
Blackwood cleared his throat. "Without concrete evidence of wrongdoing, these remain unsubstantiated claims. My client has provided all documentation regarding his marriage, including the marriage certificate and witness statements." I could tell he was getting annoyed with the entire situation too. My father probably lobbed this bomb at me to get back at me for having a mind of my own for twenty years.
"We're not questioning the paperwork," Dr. Thornfield interjected. "We're questioning the legitimacy."
