Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Great. More Dante’s and Vik’s,” she mutters without any heat in her tone. She taps the pen against her lips. “Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”
“Still married to you,” I state, my voice dropping into a lower, deeper tone. “Living in Medina, hopefully retired enough to take you around the world whenever or wherever you want to go.”
“And kids?” she asks, then stops, looking down at the pad before glancing back up. “Do you want kids? Wait a minute—that’s a dumb question, isn’t it? Your goal since Vegas has clearly been to take me bare and knock me up.”
“I won’t deny I like the thought of you carrying my child, Alexandria.” A chuckle rumbles out of my chest. I rest my elbows on my knees, lean forward, and lock my eyes on hers. “I like it a fuck of a lot. And to answer your question properly, yes, I want a family, two or three little chaotic harrumphs running around our home driving us crazy. And if that means throwing out your birth control, of any kind of form, so be it.”
“I know that all too well,” she counters, pointing the end of her pen at me. She shakes her head at me as she continues, “Favorite food?”
“Steak. Rare.” My stomach lets out a growl, making me realize it’s been hours since I’ve had a bite to eat.
“Coffee order?”
“Black. The stronger the better.” I already know she prefers hers more on the blonde side after seeing her cup on the corner of her desk this morning.
“Allergies?” Alexandria isn’t missing a beat.
“None. I’d like to think I’m indestructible.” She harrumphs at my response.
“Pets?” I notice the only other living entity beside her is a few plants she has scattered throughout her home.
“Had a German Shepherd and a couple of fish. I’d eventually like to have another dog when I’m in Medina more than three nights a week.” I watch as her breathing hitches.
“Do you snore?”
“You’ve slept with me last night and in Vegas, Alexandria. You tell me, do I snore?” Her cheeks flush, and my memory flashes back to the night after we were married. When I had to leave and got to see her sleeping peacefully without a stitch of clothing, wrapped in nothing but a sheet.
“That’s irrelevant. Next question, what’s your biggest fear?” One of these days, it’s going to be her in the hot seat, answering all of these questions. Only it’ll be with her naked, legs spread, me on my knees, and she’ll have to pay attention while I devour her whole.
“Losing control and losing you now that I’ve had a taste of what life looks like with you in it.” The room goes completely still as the sarcastic, guarded edge in her eyes melts and is replaced with softness. She lowers her notepad, her fingers relaxing around her pen.
I take advantage of the pause to lean forward more, planting my forearms on my thighs, eyes sweeping over her—taking in the loose gray sweatpants hanging low on her hips, wondering what she’s wearing beneath. The thin fabric of her top shows the outline of her pebbled nipples, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from going after her.
“Are you done, wife?” My voice drops to a quiet growl that vibrates through the space. Alexandria swallows hard, and now I’ve got a vision of having one hand wrapped around her neck while she takes my cock to the back of her throat, much like she did in the hotel shower on our wedding night.
“I think that covers the preliminary cross-examination. For now.” She sets the notepad and paper down on the coffee table.
“Good,” I rasp, my restraint on the verge of breaking. “I’ve got a list of questions of my own. But they can wait.”
“They can?” she whispers.
“Yeah, they can.” I stand up slowly, my frame filling the space, and watch as her eyes zero in on the hard bulge in my slacks. I move around the coffee table, clearing the distance between us. “It’s been far too long since I’ve been inside you, and I’m running out of fucking patience.” I brace myself, waiting for her to retreat, for the panic to set in, for her to build another damn wall around herself.
She doesn’t run.
She stands and steps into my space, reaching up and placing her hands against my chest. It makes every muscle in my chest lock up tightly.
“If we’re doing this, Dante,”—she looks up at me, voice steady and resolute— “I need you to understand something right now.”
“I’m listening,” I grunt. My hands settle gently on the sides of her curvy waist.
“I can’t lose me. I am not quitting my job. I am not giving up my career to become barefoot and pregnant in your Medina mansion. And I am definitely not working for you, so don’t even think about doing anything underhanded like that. I keep my life, my identity, and my work. Deal?” A wave of pride crashes over me. I don’t want a trophy wife who nods to my every command. I want her. I want the brilliant, fiery, stubborn woman who stands her ground against me even when her body is trembling with desire.