Page 104 of Hot Puck
“I slept with my husband.”
Even referring to Chase as my husband doesn’t make what we did feel any better.
I thought I was dreaming. Thought I was having another of the vivid dreams I’ve been plagued with since my libido decided Chase Hawkins was worth jumping.
What he thinks is anyone’s guess because we haven’t talked about it.
And the only reason I know it wasn’t a dream, and we really did have sex is because I woke in bed beside him, the sticky evidence of our union between my legs, spread all over my thighs.
I can say with one hundred percent certainty I have never flown out of bed faster.
The shock of waking with come dripping from my pussy only outdone by the man lying beside me. Sound asleep.
Staring down at Chase, I’d debated what to do. Wake him? Get out of the room and pretend it never happened?
The latter seemed the best option.
At least until he wakes up and remembers.
Or doesn’t.
Other than being in bed naked, there’s no signs he’s had sex. Men are lucky like that. No come-soaked panties to deal with all day after the deed.
I’ve shut myself in the main bathroom on the other side of the suite from where Chase still sleeps.
It’s been twenty minutes since I leaped out of bed and scrambled for clothes.
Twenty minutes of going over and over what happened. And I still can’t get my head around it.
I slept with a twenty-one-year-old!
I’m his wife, yes, but having sex isn’t part of our deal.
Then again, neither is falling in love and as much as I want to deny it, I can’t. I love Chase Hawkins just as much as I love his sisters.
Only I don’t want to jump them.
I never,never, had this problem the last time I married a man for convenience.
But then Johnathon Whitman never had my heart squeezing with concern or joy or lust. He was a man five years my senior, the son of one of my grandfather’sfriendswho I knew would be an acceptable choice and give me access to money that was mine.
Money that would set me free.
Marrying Johnathon broke the first chains on my inheritance, unlocked the resources I needed to break free of my grandfather’s rule.
I’d never regret doing it. Even now, with Johnathon continuing to plague my life, I’d do it again.
But marrying Chase? Yeah, not about freedom.
And if I’m honest—and I need to be after last night—marrying Chase was a selfish act. Yes, I wanted to help him with his sister. Help the girls. Help keep their fractured family together.
But mostly I wanted the connection having the girls in my life would give me. The family I always wanted and didn’t believe I’d get.
“Fuck!” Head tipped back, I stare at the ceiling and mutter, “What have I done?”
I choke back a laugh.
I fucked my husband, that’s what I’ve done.
