I study her. Her eyes are glazed and her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. She looks wiped out. In a daze.
All thanks to me.
“I’d like to know what the fuck you’re doing to me.” I lean in and drop a kiss on her lips, lingering there. And I’m not talking just sexually either.
What exactly is going on between us? This isn’t like the business deal we first started with, that’s for damn sure. What is she doing when I’m not around? If she’s playing my ass, I’m going to feel like the biggest fool out there. I don’t think I could survive the humiliation.
My family alone will make me feel like a giant loser. I don’t need the rest of the world chiming in with their opinions about my marriage to Charlotte Lancaster.
“I used to read witchcraft books,” she tells me, a new tidbit she’s never shared before. “Maybe I cast a spell on you.”
“I think it worked.” I kiss her again before she can tell me more. “I think I like you, wife.”
“I know I like you,” she admits, biting her lower lip. I must give her a questioning look because she continues on. “What? I do.”
“You’re loyal to me? To the Constantines?” I lift a brow, waiting for her answer. Hating how heavy my chest suddenly feels.
“What else do I need to do.” She leans in closer to me, her face practically in mine. “To prove that I would never want to hurt you?”
I stare into her blue eyes, pleased by her words, and the meaning behind them. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”
Her smile is faint. “Good. We’re on the same page, then.”
“Let’s go to a diner for dinner.” My stomach hurts, I’m so hungry. And she doesn’t even bat an eyelash at my change of subject.
“What? And eat greasy hamburgers and French fries coated in salt?” Her brows lift.
Nodding, I kiss her again. Like I can’t get enough. “Sounds fucking delicious.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
“And after we eat, I’ll take you somewhere with a nice view and fuck you nice and slow in the back seat of the car?”
“I’d rather fuck you in the front seat, with it pushed all the way back,” she suggests softly.
I smile.
“Deal.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Charlotte
It feels likePerry and I are on a real date, which is kind of funny because it means we’ve been doing this relationship thing completely backwards. Not that I mind.
Well, I did mind, but I learned how to work with it and now I actually like Perry.
I especially like Perry when he drives fast, with that easy confidence behind the wheel, despite how much it scared me. He looked so relaxed, his body slouched, one hand on the wheel, the wind blowing through his hair after he rolled the window down.
And I really like it when he reaches over and slips his fingers between my thighs. That was all sorts of hot. I didn’t mean to come so fast but I wasn’t lying when I told him I missed him.
That I was horny for him.
All damn day.
We’re at a diner I found thanks to me searching on Google. It had good reviews and it looked crowded when we pulled into the parking lot—all good signs. The moment we got seated, we both ordered cheeseburgers and fries plus two milkshakes. I got strawberry and he got chocolate.
“What made you get the Chevelle out?” I ask him after our milkshakes are delivered and we’re spooning up ice cream and shoveling it into our mouths like a couple of little kids.