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Still, it was a big score for me that he bumped me the point. I mentally puffed on my nails and shined them on my chest.

He got his head back together apparently, because he came back to face me again, standing close. “Okay, you want to get papers, work it out, I can be down with that. And I’m not looking for a payday out of this; I need you to know that. I take care of myself, and I take care of my own. I don’t want your money. But you need it. That’s what matters, and that’s what this is about. So. Ask. Me.”

“Will you marry me, Jack? For Peter? And just for six months?”

He flinched a little, but he didn’t get mad again, and he didn’t turn away. He held my eyes, and he said, “Yeah, Ellie. Let’s get married.”

Chapter 9

Jack

I dove in. I couldn’t help it.

I’d been thinking about her mouth and her lips and her taste almost non-stop ever since that night—it seemed so long ago—when she first moved in. Damn, that was the day we’d first met, too. It was actually only nine days ago. I had forced myself then to keep it light, to back off fast, since there was too much at stake to fuck it all up with sex right off the bat.

But hell, we’d just agreed to get married. I knew a shot when I saw one, and my patience was at an end where she was concerned. So what, if the marriage was only so she could get her money? I wanted her—badly—and I knew, from all of her many blushes and the way her body always seemed to lean into mine, that she wanted me, too. Why prolong agony? We could take what we wanted. No harm, no foul.

She didn’t resist. Not even a little bit. I swooped down on her, and she arched into me, and opened her mouth wider to accept my tongue. She tasted like honey beer and heaven, and her scent filled my nose, and it was like a drug I couldn’t get enough of.

Our tongues played together, getting to know one another and then pulling back and forth, acting out what out lower bodies were craving. There were grunts and moans. My hands started wandering over her body, finally able to be filled with all her curves and softness.

Fuck, but she was amazing. I needed more. I was hard as a rock, and I pressed into her belly so she could feel me, and know how badly I wanted her.

She gave right back, her arms clinging to me, her pelvis digging up, and I gave her a thigh to straddle, to help her along. Damn, she was hot. I could feel her damp heat already through two pair of jeans. Fuck. We needed to lose the clothes, ASAP.

I nudged her backward toward the couch and grabbed her tight in my arms, then lowered us both down to horizontal. She pushed my MC kutte off my shoulders and I shrugged it away. I stripped her top over her head and tossed it somewhere, then went right back in for more of her mouth.

Our teeth crashed and we both laughed, but we couldn’t stop or slow down. We were wildfire. I felt both high and more sober than I’d ever been, aware of her on every level, with every one of my senses tuned in.

Piece by piece, we managed to strip down to underwear—well, hers, really. I got rid of my boxers with my jeans. I didn’t see the point in doubling the effort. But I wanted to enjoy the reveal of her body.

She was gorgeous. Her breasts—what I could see of them—were just as amazing as I had imagined: full, round, and soft. Her belly was soft and curvy, her hips full, her thighs tapered, and her ass filled my hands phenomenally. I didn’t think I’d ever been this hard before in my life, and I was grateful to my core for finally getting the opportunity to be with her. I wanted to worship her with my body and mouth. And I was prepared to do just that.

I kissed my way from her neck down her chest, my hands playing with her breasts through her bra. It wasn’t a very sexy bra, but I didn’t care. She was a nursing mama, she wore what she needed to. I found the front latch and snapped it open, then peeled it off of her.

Her breasts were fucking beautiful, her nipples a deep pink and distended, hard, surrounded by pink areolas. I kissed them all over, as much as I could, and nipped her a few times in my excitement. I wasn’t sure how she would feel about me taking her nipples into my mouth, considering that’s how she fed her baby boy, and I wasn’t sure about whether or not it would be weird, but I couldn’t resist her, either. So when my mouth closed over a nipple and I gave her some flicks and rolls with my tongue, she moaned and strained against me. Seemed she liked it. I smiled and carried on.


Tags: Zoey Parker Romance