There are so many ways to describe it. I bet that’s Perry. All the women he’s been with are probably just thrilled with the fact that they’re withhim.Too dazzled by his good looks and his easygoing charm to worry too much about their own needs.
Pleasing him is enough to them.
“You don’t know me,” I say, hating how shaky my voice is. “Or what I like.”
“I’m supposed to find out though, right?” He takes a couple of steps forward, reaching for me, his fingers settling for the briefest moment on my cheek before his hand falls away. My face tingles where he touched me, causing a ripple effect throughout my entire body and settling right between my legs. “After all, in a few weeks, I’ll be your husband.”
I stare up at him, a familiar scent hitting my nose. “You’ve been drinking.”
His smile is far too big. “So smart, wife.”
Irritated, I push at his chest, but he doesn’t stumble or even take a step backward. He’s firmly in place, which makes me wonder if this is some sort of metaphor for my future.
As in, this man isn’t going anywhere.
And I’m going to have to learn how to make the best of it.
Chapter Fifteen
Perry
I’m in amood.
Arguing with Charlotte feels like foreplay. Or maybe I’m just horny. Doesn’t help that I’m drunk. I stayed after hours with Winston, and we shared a few glasses of whiskey before I came home.
I might’ve guzzled down two or three.
Three. Though that last one was more like half a glass. Winston took it away from me about twenty minutes before I left, telling me I needed to sober up. I was too far gone for that, and he knew it, so he walked me down to his own personal car and told the driver to take me straight to purgatory, AKA my new home with ol’ wifey-to-be here.
The beautiful woman who is currently glaring holes into my head.
She’s so damn confusing. Sending mixed messages all the time. One minute she hates me, the next she’s thanking me for saving her. I know she’s unhappy. I know her father treats her like garbage, and for some reason, knowing all of that makes me feel protective towards her.
I shouldn’t give a shit. She’s nothing to me. Just a fake future wife. But the way she’s staring at me right now, her expression all wide-eyed vulnerability, it does something to me.
Twists up my insides.
Makes my heart beat harder.
Makes my dick hard too.
“Are you drunk?”
I wince, scratching the side of my head. Damn her voice is loud.
She’s cute though, clad in the plain black T-shirt and high-waisted jeans, a simple yet stylish outfit. Mom jeans is what Tins calls them. Charlotte’s blonde hair is in a high ponytail and I’m half tempted to give it a solid yank, wrap those silky strands around my fist.
So that’s exactly what I do.
“Ow!” Charlotte whips around, backing toward that wall of windows behind her. “What the hell, Perry?”
“Pretty sure that’s the first time you ever called me by my name.” I stalk toward her, my steps careful. Slow. She backs up for every forward step I take until she has nowhere to go, her butt bumping against the window, her blue eyes wide and unblinking.
“Go away,” she says, yet somehow it sounds more like “come closer” to me.
Or maybe that’s my drunk ass misinterpreting it.
Like a complete dick, I crowd her, bracing my hands on the glass on either side of her head, staring her down. She glares up at me, her jaw working, those blue eyes now blazing with unmistakable anger.