Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“What does it look like?” I smile down at her. “Allow me the honor, Mrs. Grace.”
She taps the card against the sensor, and I open the door and carry her inside.
“Oh wow.” The suite is massive—and romantic, meant for people in love. The huge four-poster bed is littered with pink rose petals. Champagne chills in a bucket alongside a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries.
“Meems booked this for us,” I explain as I set her on her feet.
“Of course she did.” She turns to me, eyes full of emotion. “We made her so happy today.”
“We did,” I agree.
Her eyes move over me. “We’re really married.”
I tuck a hand in my pocket. “We are.”
She nods once. “We should do shots.”
My stomach sinks. I don’t know what I expected. “Reality finally setting in?”
“Pretty much.” She crosses over to the wet bar and lines up four shot glasses.
I shrug out of my suit jacket while she pours vodka into each glass, adding a dash of simple syrup and lemon. She passes me a glass and takes one for herself.
“To making the people we love happy and keeping them close.” She clinks her glass against mine and downs the shot.
I do the same.
She passes me the second one, and we shoot again.
“Feel better?” I don’t know what to do or say. She’s stuck with me for the foreseeable future. I’m definitely the winner in this arrangement.
“A little.” She leans against the bar, eyes glassy.
“I have something for you.” I slide my hand into the breast pocket of my tux. I’ve been carrying it with me all day, waiting for the right time to give it to her. I pull the small, wrapped box out and pass it to her.
“You already got me a wedding gift.” She holds up her arm and jingles the bracelet. “Now there’s another?”
“Sort of.”
She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“You are the gift, Mildred.”
She makes a sound and carefully unwraps the box. Inside is a piece of paper folded into the shape of a house. “What is this?”
“Unfold it and find out.”
She sets the box aside and unfolds the piece of paper. She pushes her glasses up her nose, brow furrowing as she reads it, then lifts her eyes to mine. “These are ownership papers.”
“I was able to finalize everything yesterday. The apartment is yours. You can rent it out, if you want. You can keep it as it is. If you need space, you have a place to go that belongs to you.” I rub the back of my neck. “I want you to feel like you have agency and choices. You’re my wife, and I’m your husband, but I don’t ever want you to feel trapped in this with me.”
She throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you.”
I gently embrace her. “You don’t have to thank me. I told you I would take care of it. The timing just happened to work out in my favor.”
She cups my face in her palms. “Just say you’re welcome, Connor.”
“You’re welcome.”
She smiles.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” I ask.
She turns her back and bows her head. “I need you to help me out of this dress.”
“Hmm... So you do.” I steady my hands and begin unfastening the many, many buttons one at a time. Her skin is soft and warm, and she smells like strawberries and vanilla. All I want is to kiss a path up to her neck, but we’re not here because we’re in love.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says.
“You make that sound dangerous, darling.”
She glances over her shoulder, smile coy. “It’s our wedding night.”
“Yes, it is.” I continue unfastening buttons, her white lace bra appearing.
“And you’ve mentioned on more than one occasion that we could make an amendment to our contract.”
“I have done that, haven’t I?”
“Very cheekily, I might add.”
“I do have a tendency to be cheeky, don’t I?”
“Mmm... Exceedingly cheeky,” she agrees.
“Last button,” I say.
She turns, holding the bodice of her dress in place. “What if we made a verbal amendment to our contract?”
“What kind of verbal amendment?”
She releases the bodice, and her dress slides down. She tugs it over her hips and lets it fall to the floor. Stepping out of the puddle of satin, she moves closer, dressed in nothing but her bra and panties. She’s perfectly curvy and soft in all the right places.
“You look hungry, husband.” She reaches behind her, eyes on mine as she unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor.
“And you look like everything I want, but don’t deserve.”
“What about what I deserve?” She hooks her thumbs into her lace and satin panties.
My mouth goes dry and my body heats as she pushes them over her hips and steps out of them, bringing her close enough to touch.
“You deserve better than me.”
“What if I don’t want better? What if I like what I have?” Her eyes are slightly unfocused, but hot with desire.