Chapter Nine
Leah stood beneath the hot water of the hotel shower, letting the jets massage the ache from her scalp.
How a somewhat impromptu fake-ish wedding had turned into such an affair, she had no idea. Well, that wasn’t totally true. She was now married to a billionaire. Who was friends with billionaires. Who liked to party like billionaires. Whereas she would have done a quick courthouse wedding and a nice dinner at a Sizzler somewhere, they’d paid a fortune for the nicest restaurant in town, dropped enough on dinner to pay her rent for several months, and still felt like they’d gotten off cheap.
She wasn’t complaining. The night had been memorably beautiful, and fake or not, she appreciated having a nice wedding. Hell, it might be the only one she ever got. It was just…different, that’s all. She didn’t know if she’d ever get used to it.
Her wedding ring brushed across her bare skin and she looked down at it. Another thing she’d never get used to. She was married now. A “Mrs.” She could have a whole new name if she wanted it. In fact, her employers would expect a name change. The thought unsettled her, like she was suddenly supposed to be this whole other person because she’d said “I do” to some guy she barely knew.
She almost had to laugh at herself. She was having a baby with a man she barely knew and was newly married to a different man she barely knew. Her mother would be so proud. She completely blocked out any thought of how that conversation was going to go down. She’d deal with it later. Right now, she had to walk out into that massive hotel suite and say good night to her husband.
Not how she pictured her wedding night going, especially when she was married to a man like Brooks.
She’d known extremely good-looking men before. Not just handsome men, but Chris Hemsworth, Jason Momoa, over-the-top hot men. And many of them had a bit of a cocky swagger about them that let the world know they knew exactly how hot they were. But Brooks didn’t have that. Oh, he joked about how hot he was. The man was a master flirt, but something about the way he said it made her think that deep down inside, he didn’t believe a word of what came out of his mouth.
The water flowed over her in hot rivulets, sending tingling sparks through her over-sensitized body. She seemed to experience everything at a heightened level lately. Smells, sounds…touch. She let her hands trail down her body, sucking in a breath at the sensations that rippled down.
A knock at the door startled her and she turned off the water, embarrassed, though he had no idea what she’d been doing, and probably would have loved every second if he had.
“Everything okay in there?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, stepping out and grabbing a towel. She bent over to flip her hair upside down and towel-dried it for a second before wrapping it up. “Give me a moment.”
The door opened and she squealed, whipping her hair towel down to cover her body, though the tiny towel didn’t cover much.
“I’m sorry. I thought you said come in.”
“I said give me a moment.”
“Sorry,” he said again. “I’ll just wait out there.”
He jerked his thumb toward the door, but didn’t make any move to follow it. He stood still, his gaze roaming over her body, sucking in a deep breath as he took in every inch of her.
She should scream, push him away, give him a good chewing out for standing there staring at her.
Instead, she returned the favor. She couldn’t help it. He only wore plaid pajama bottoms, slung low on his hips. His broad chest and shoulders were on spectacular display and he sported a tribal band tattoo around one impressive bicep that both surprised her and made her clench her fists in her towel to keep from reaching out and tracing it with her fingertips.
His height showed in his long torso and legs. She’d never wanted a pair of pants to fall off so badly in her life. Even his bare feet were unexpectedly erotic.
“I think I should go,” he said, his voice hoarse. He turned half away but didn’t take his eyes off her.
Twisting like that gave her an excellent view of his rock-hard ass, though, and she bit her lip. Holy hell.
Screw it. Seriously. It was a bad idea that she was pretty sure she’d regret in the morning. But she wanted him. Craved him. Wanted to feel his touch so badly she was seconds from sobbing from her need and desire. And this man, this gloriously incredible man, was theoretically, legally, hers.
“Brooks,” she said, her own voice sounding hoarse with need to her own ears. “Don’t go.”
He sucked in a breath, his hungry eyes moving over her again. “One of us needs to walk away right now. If I stay—”
“Brooks,” she said again.
Then she dropped her towel.
…
Brooks’s brain short-circuited. Every precaution, every warning, every rational thought completely and totally evaporated on a wave of lust so strong he nearly dropped to his knees at the feet of the goddess who stood before him.
He walked slowly toward her, giving her time to change her mind. When he stood within a breath’s distance of her, he paused again, closed his eyes and breathed her in.
Her hands came up and rested on his waist and that was it. His control disintegrated.
He cupped her face, turning her lips up to meet his. She clung to him as he plundered her mouth. All that creamy, smooth skin pressed against him and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to bring her even closer. Finally, he picked her up, groaning against her lips when her legs wrapped around his waist. Shit, she wasn’t even trying to do anything but hang on and he was seconds from blowing.
He carried her out of the bathroom and straight to the bed. He laid her down and got rid of his pants. She sucked in a breath at the sight of him and he gave her a moment to look. Only fair since he’d certainly had a chance to admire every line and curve of her gorgeous body.
The sheer beauty of her stunned him. Humbled him. And she was his. His wife.
The knowledge of that did something to him, gave him a sense of both possession and pride that he’d never felt before.
He belonged. He was a part of a we. An us.
The intimacy in that tiny word rocked him.
It didn’t matter if it was temporary. For that moment, they belonged to each other, and each other only.
When he finally climbed up next to her, she reached for him eagerly. Fingers threading through his hair, guiding him to her lips. He kissed her with growing urgency, and she was right there with him, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before. With total abandon, every stroke of her tongue branding him more deeply as hers.
His body begged for more, ached for more. He couldn’t get enough.
His hands trailed over her body, closing over a breast, hesitating when she flinched away from his touch.
“Sorry,” she said. “They’re a bit sore.”
“No apologies. Just tell me if something doesn’t feel good, and tell me what does.”
He ran his fingertips lightly over her breast, barely skimming over the skin, watching her carefully for her reaction. Her mouth dropped open and he smiled. He longed to suck her tight nipples into his mouth. Instead, he lightly flicked the tip of his tongue over their peaks and she nearly came off the bed.
After that, it became a game to see how lightly he could caress, kiss, and lick her. Her sensitive skin responded to his lightest touch and he had her coming apart in his arms within minutes.
His fingers brushed down her side, down her hips. Then lightly tickled her center. Her hips came off the bed, wanting, begging.
He chuckled, then dipped down to recapture her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips at the same moment that he sank a gentle finger inside her. She gasped, and then the game was over.
She arched against him, straining to drive him deeper, and he was a goner.
He quickly rolled over and grabbed his pants from the floor where he’d dropped them earlier, silently thanking his asshole friends for their perverse sense of humor. He tore a condom from the rest of the pack and had it rolled on before he’d stopped to consider the fact that she was already pregnant, though the condom might still make her more comfortable seeing as they’d pretty much just met.
His hand rested on her belly, another thought invading.
“Is it okay if we…?”
“Absolutely,” she said, reaching for him.
“It won’t hurt you or…” His fingers stroked across her gently rounded belly and she bit her lip, sucking in a sharp breath.
“The only thing that will hurt me is if you keep torturing me.”
“Torture, hmm?” He dipped his head and ran his tongue across the full length of her center, his tongue dipping inside.
She cried out and arched her hips against him. He didn’t let up, but he kept his touch light with feather kisses and licks that barely skimmed the surface.
She threw her head back. “Brooks, please,” she gasped, and the sound of his name being torn from her lips shattered him into a million pieces.
He slowly sank into her, giving her time to tell him to stop, time to tell him if he was hurting her. She only opened herself wider, pressing into him to draw him in deeper. Her eyes met his as she claimed every inch of him. His body shook with the need to claim her. He tried to set a slow rhythm, but it was too late for that. They both were past that point. He’d make slow, leisurely love to her later. Neither one of them had the patience to wait any longer.
Within a few strokes, she shuddered, the deep heat of her gripping him, bringing her with him, destroying him and saving him all at once. Their gazes locked and the intimacy of that moment seared into his memory. He’d never be free of her now.
He rested beside her for a moment, waiting to regain his equilibrium before he quickly cleaned up. Then he wrapped himself around her, cupping the back of her head to give her a deep, lingering kiss.
She cuddled against him and almost immediately fell asleep. But he stayed awake for a long time afterward, just watching her, holding her, praying to God they both emerged without too much damage.
After what had just happened, there was no way they’d escape unscathed.