Overnight Wife

By: Penny Wylder

His expression darkens. “Oh trust me, that part is easy.”

Something about the look makes my curiosity flicker. Has he done this before? But he steps toward me, distracting me from any thoughts about his past.

“Why are you in such a rush, Mara? I didn’t think you’d be upset about this.” His expression turns mischievous. “Pretty sure you weren’t upset last night. How many times did you come? I lost count at ten.”

My face could light this whole suite on fire right now. But I ball up my fists, trying to ignore it. The feeling of my nails digging into my palms helps distract me. “I don’t understand how you aren’t upset, John. You don’t think this is a complete disaster?”

“Far from it. That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. And I don’t think I’m being egotistical when I say it was yours, too.”

I hate that I can’t disagree. Even with blank spots in my memory, blocking out some of what we did, the parts I can remember? Well, let’s just say that last night alone could keep me fueled with enough dirty memories to power my fantasies for months.

But still. Hot sex with a stranger in Vegas is one thing. Marrying said hot stranger is quite another. “Look, I’m not saying I didn’t have fun.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He arches an eyebrow, and it’s so infuriating it makes me want to shake him. Or kiss him. Or let him kiss me, the way he did last night, his tongue tracing a line down my jawline, along the curve of my neck, over my collarbone, until he wound up taking my bra off with his teeth alone.

A feat in and of itself, I can tell you.

My breath hitches. “The problem is that we can’t stay married, obviously.”

That infuriating eyebrow remains arched, as if he disagrees. Yet all he says is, “You want to get this annulled.”

“I want my life go to back to normal.”

“Normal and lacking in mind-blowing orgasms that make you scream my name so loud we get noise complaints from neighboring rooms?” He’s grinning again, and goddamn it, I hate the way he can get to me so easily. We’ve only known each other for a day. It’s not fair that he already knows exactly which buttons to push.

He takes a step toward me, then another. I’m painfully, heatedly aware that I’m still only wearing a towel. My face feels so hot I’m surprised he can’t feel the heat radiating off me—and that’s nothing compared to the rest of me. My pussy pulses between my thighs, my clit feels swollen with desire. Even if there are parts of last night that I don’t recall, I have a feeling my body remembers every single second.

And it wants more.

“What’s the hurry, Mara?” John murmurs, and that voice is like silk between my thighs, caressing all the right spots. “We’ve got all the time in the world. Just take off that towel, come back to bed…”

I set my jaw hard, not sure whether I’m angrier with myself or him right now. “Stop it. I need to think, and I can’t with you distracting me. Get out!”

His smirk widens. “You realize you’re in my room, right?”

With a groan, I grab for my clothes, strewn across the floor in a way that sends a flash of memories rushing through my mind. My shirt flying in one direction. My panties very carefully being peeled off in another…

“Breakfast,” he says, and for a second, I pause in the middle of collecting my things, positive he’s about to hit on me again. But he’s smiling, looking actually innocent for once. “I know a great little spot on the corner. Marcelle’s. They have a great fire-roasted tomato omelet, good coffee. Let’s meet there in an hour, okay? And then we can talk about all of this.”

“No, that’s not okay,” I snap. “Can’t we just annul this remotely or something? I have things to do.” A job to start tomorrow. The very thought of it almost starts a fresh wave of panic in my body, but I push it away, repress it for now. First things first: get out of this guy’s room.

This guy with the alluring eyes and the devilish smile, who’s currently looking at me like he wants to devour me whole. This guy who blew my mind last night—and also makes me want to punch him this morning.

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