Suddenly, I need space. I shove at him to get him to back off. As soon as he takes a step back, I slide off the edge of the island and land on my feet. I’m small enough to duck under his arm and free myself from his touch.
I round to the other side of the island so I can think. With my palms on the edge, I face off with him. We’re mirror images of each other, a few feet and the island separating us. My chest is rising and falling rapidly.
Fuck, he’s sexy. Better than any hero I’ve written in any book. But that doesn’t mean I should marry him. He can kiss, too. And judging from the size of the bulge I can see pressing against the front of his jeans, he has a romance-book-sized cock.
Gah. I need to stop looking at his dick.
I come up with a plan. “I have an idea.”
He frowns. “You want to flip a coin to decide where we’re going to live?”
“Ha. No. I’m going to take my clothes off, and you’re going to fuck me. That’s the only way to prove if we even belong together. If we have chemistry. There’s no way to know that for sure without testing the theory. If you’re so confident and cocky about us setting off fireworks, prove it. If you’re right, it won’t matter to either of us where we live. If the sex is that good, we can go to Greenland and be happy.”
He chuckles. “Nice try. Pretty good argument. But no. Instead, how about I take your clothes off and use my mouth and my hands to prove to you that I’m as good as any hero in any book you’ve ever written.”
I cackle. “Do you know how many heroes say that? Damn near all of them. Every hero in every book. They think they’re the best she’s ever going to have. Their cock is the biggest. Their tongue is the longest. Their ego is out of this world.”
“And then what?” he asks. “Do you ever write it where he’s wrong and she found him mediocre and they went their separate ways?”
I chuckle. “No. Never. What a horrible book.”
“Well, this is your live-action romance novel, Melody. I’m the hero. You’re the heroine. Do all of your heroines test the guy out before marrying him?”
Fuck. He’s got me there. “No.”
“So sometimes she’s a virgin when they get married?”
“Sometimes,” I agree.
“And then does he suck in bed?”
I laugh. “No.”
“See how accommodating I am? I’m willing to sweeten the deal. I’ll make you come more times than you can count every day. I’ll use everything but my cock. You won’t be able to deny the chemistry. It’s a win-win. You won’t walk down the aisle to the altar wondering if we’re going to have good sex.”
The new, bold version of me glances down at the front of his jeans. He’s so fucking tall that I can see the bulge from across the island. “So we’re negotiating, right?”
He laughs. “No. I’m simply stating facts. It’s a fact that we have undeniable chemistry. It’s a fact that you’re going to marry me. It’s also a fact that you will not have my cock inside you until that night. Oh, one more fact. You’ll be the first woman to have my cock inside you bare.”
“Brody,” I shout. “Those are not facts. Those are your wishes.”
He shakes his head. “Semantics. They will all be facts after I make them come true.”
I think for a few seconds. I bet I can come up with a way to get what I want out of this. A light bulb goes off in my head. This ought to shake him up. “Okay. How about this, then? I’ll give you one month to prove you’re a storybook hero with your mouth and hands. You have to work around my schedule, though. I’m anal as fuck, and I need my sleep to be on top of my writing game. If you prove you’re a super Adonis in bed, I’ll agree to marry you. But… You have to show me your cock right now. I want to see it.”
I seriously don’t know myself. How the fuck am I asking this man to show me his fucking dick? Who the fuck do I think I am?
He laughs again. Damn, I love that sound. “Since we’re negotiating, you get one week. Not one month. A week from today, next Saturday, I’m going to ask you to marry me, and you’re going to say yes. You may share your schedule with me. I’ll work on the town’s construction plans while you’re writing. I’ll make sure you get eight hours of sleep every night, but the rest of your time is mine. Every second.” He pauses to hold up a finger. “Oh, and every single one of your orgasms is mine. You may not touch yourself or use any of those vibrators for the entire week.”
I think about his demands. Like a crazy woman. Maybe I’m dreaming and none of this is happening. “Where will you sleep?”
“With you. I don’t care where. Here or at the mansion.”
“You didn’t agree to show me your cock,” I point out.
“My bad. You may see it as often as you’d like. I’ll even stroke it so you can watch me come if that makes you salivate. But you can’t touch it directly.”
Salivate… I’m definitely salivating at the idea.
