Page 86 of Arranged Addiction
“Huh? What?” She quickly looks away like she wasn’t ogling my dick.
“Why do you act like sharing a bed with me is a burden? When today you spent half the day on your knees with my shaft in your mouth.”
I love the way her cheeks turn pink when I talk dirty. “Can you be normal for a second, please?”
“Tell me I’m wrong.” I stand in front of her shirtless and wait.
She lets out a breath. “You’re not wrong, okay? Sex is one thing. But sharing a bed feels more intimate.”
“Explain to me how.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never slept over with a guy before.”
I pause, frowning, as I process. “Seriously?”
“You should know, asshole. You’re the reason I never have.”
Well, shit. She’s got a point. I let that settle for a moment and tilt my head to the side. I’ve been scaring off her boyfriends since she went to college, and back in high school, she clearly never had the chance to do a sleepover.
Which means I really am the first man to bring her into my bed.
And not just for one night.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not scared. I’m just not sure I want to take that step with you.”
“We’re married.”
“Reluctantly.”
“Do you have to make everything hard?”
She glares at me and gets to her feet. “Actually, yes, since you ruined my life.”
“I made your life as comfortable as possible.”
“And in your twisted little head, I bet that’s true.” She gathers up some clothes, storms into the bathroom, and slams the door behind her.
This fucking girl is going to be the end of me. I get into bed and try to calm myself down. I have to be up early tomorrow again and I need my rest if I’m going to be sharp, but now I’m pissed off.
When she was young, she wanted for nothing. If Sheila sent me an email requesting money for supplies, sports fees, anything at all, I immediately made the transfer, no questions asked. I know for a fact she got the best of everything. Casey was almost borderline spoiled. That’s on top of all the strings I pulled to get her into her top school and to ease her path to graduation.
So what if she hasn’t had a serious boyfriend?
If anything, I saved her from years of awkward fumbling from inexperienced, selfish college assholes.
I did her a damn favor.
Casey comes out a few minutes later wearing her little shorts and crop top ensemble. That’s her preferred nighttime outfit and it drives me fucking wild the way her nipples press against the light cotton fabric. She’s still glaring at me as she gets under the blankets, pulls them up over her shoulders, and turns her back to me.
I flip off the lights.
“This doesn’t have to be a fight,” I say into the darkness.
“Are you trying to convince yourself of that?”
“I’m hoping you’ll see reason.”
