“See, that wasn’t so hard. I can easily cover that.” The old rent was fifteen hundred between Oaklee & I, so it won’t be much of an increase.
Sebastian grips the armrests, his jaw set tightly, and his eyes flicking to the flight attendant who is now going through the first-class cabin pouring wine. He must really be a nervous flyer by the way he keeps tensing and glaring at the flight attendant. I know he has a monster of a hangover like me.
“You know I’ve heard that sometimes if you drink a little in the morning, it can cure a hangover,” I say.
“I’m good,” he practically growls at me.
Okay—I won’t make the mistake of trying to be nice again.
He runs his hand through his unruly hair and then looks at me as he lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“A nervous flyer? A crabby hungover monster? Or just naturally a jerk?”
He smiles. “Hungover. Do you want some wine?”
I shake my head.
“More coffee?”
I nod.
We wait until we get more coffee in our systems before we finish our conversation.
“So we agreed to six months and that we will live at my place, what else do we need to discuss?” he asks after he drinks half of his new cup of coffee.
“Sex,” I blurt out without thinking. The older woman sitting next to us gives me a scowl around her husband, who is smiling at me.
Sebastian grins. “My favorite conversation.”
I roll my eyes. “I just meant that you need to know I won’t be fucking you just because we are staying married. Nothing has changed.”
“I think everything’s changed. But I will definitely fuck you again before our time is over. Not because we are married but because I have every intention of winning our little wager.” He leans in again, in what is quickly becoming his signature move. He likes watching me squirm. He knows how badly my body craves his. If I let my guard down for a single second, I’ll be fucking him, which is a horrible idea.
Why is it a bad idea again?
It just is, I tell my inner conscious. It just is, for so many reasons.
“I’ll fuck you, because you want me to. You can fight it. Actually, I prefer it that way. I always enjoy a good chase. But no matter how much you tell yourself that we shouldn’t, in the end, it will happen because it’s the best damn idea either of us have ever had.”
My entire body flushes, not just my cheeks. My nipples pebble. My panties flood. My breath catches. My heart races.
Damn him. He knows exactly how to push my buttons. He thinks he’s going to win, and maybe he’s right. But if he wants a chase, a chase he’ll get. He’ll be begging for me long before I’m begging for him.
I purse my lips and let out a long slow breath to try and calm my raging hormones. And then I throw it back at him.
I lean over in his seat, pushing him back with the air between us. Neither of us touches each other, but it doesn’t matter. We know the game we’re playing. The first to beg, the first to touch, loses.
I run my tongue over my bottom lip and watch his eyes watch my lips. I let my thumb pull down on my bottom lip and then let it fall down my body, my neck, stopping just above the curve of my breasts.
He’s practically panting as he watches me.
“Game on, Mr. King.”
When I say his name, I know I just won this battle. The large bulge in his pants confirms it.
I laugh and fall back into my seat.
“I’m going to enjoy being married to you, Mrs. King,” he finally says, when he’s caught his breath again.