Page 42 of The Pucking Wrong Date

I didn’t say anything in return.

And he didn’t try and ask me anything else.

Not when he pulled out slowly and walked to the bathroom. Or when he came back with a warm cloth that he used to clean up my arousal that had dripped down my thighs.

And not when he pulled me into his arms, fussing with me until he had me exactly where he wanted.

It wasn’t until I was fading into sleep that I thought I heard him ask something.

But by then I was too far into unconsciousness to hear what it was.

Walker

I watched her sleep, my heart in my throat, a mix of awe and fear churning inside me after the best fucking sex I’d ever had in my life.

Violet lay there, peaceful and vulnerable, her chest rising and falling slowly. She looked ethereal, like she couldn’t possibly be real, like she was too beautiful to belong to this world.

As my gaze lingered on her, I noticed something out of place—was that a glint of red? Leaning forward, my fingers lightly brushed her hair as I tried to figure out what I was seeing.

My jaw dropped when I realized she was wearing a wig.

A blonde fucking wig.

That was a plot twist I hadn’t seen coming.

Underneath the blonde was a rich and vibrant auburn. Absolutely fucking stunning. I was suddenly desperate to see those golden eyes of hers with that color hair. I’d thought she was gorgeous before, but this was on a whole other level.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched her, my dick hardening again as I took in her perfect face.

Would she care if I just slipped inside her again while she was sleeping? Fuck. That would probably be weird for a stranger to do.

I’d do that eventually. When she was mine.

My gaze drifted to her flat stomach. There’d been quite a bit of cum leaking out of the condom I’d fucked up. She hadn’t seemed to notice since she’d been fucking soaked with her own arousal.

I winced, adjusting myself, because just thinking of it made me want to die a little bit.

So fucking hot.

I had a million questions for my golden-gazed girl, but I didn’t wake her up. She’d probably run away the second I did.

Her clutch caught my attention, sitting innocently on the nightstand, next to the bed.

Maybe just a peek…

Taking one more glance at Violet to make sure she was still sleeping deeply, I slipped off the bed and grabbed the small bag. I didn’t make a habit of going through my date’s purses, but the situation called for it.

Besides, I wasn’t going through just my “date’s” purse, I was going through my futurewife’s.

I’d heard that sharing was caring when it came to successful marriages. We were just starting that early on in the process.

There wasn’t anything inside that revealed any secrets to the universe—a lip gloss, a few crumpled ten-dollar bills, anda credit card that read "Lucky Pic, LLC." Intriguing, but hardly enough to uncover the enigma of my angel girl.

I set the purse back where I’d gotten it and then pulled out my phone, carefully taking a picture of her perfect face, okay…a few pictures.

I didn’t think it was possible to forget what she looked like, but the picture could help me if she really did wake up and decide one night was all she wanted.

And I had to go hunting for her.

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