My brain starts running through the various scenarios, calculating the many ways he could remain in the U.S.
“Well, I’m sure your new employer, whichever company takes you on, would hire you with a temporary work visa.”
His finger toys with the top of my shoulder blade, absently running a rough hand over it. “That’s the thing. I want to start my own company. Run my own coaching and training organization. I know I can do it. I have the capital to invest. But I’ve researched the immigration and visa requirements and it won’t happen. I need another option.”
A crease forms in my brow as I consider what he’s saying. “Like what?”
His hand finds mine under the waterline and startles me when he interlocks his fingers with mine and tugs me to him.
“Like you.”
I’m still confused. “As your publicist, I can’t get you a work Visa.”
He drops his hand and it lands heavy on top of my thigh, his thumb leisurely stroking over my quadricep, back-and-forth, as if to soothe me.
“No, as my publicist you can’t. But as my wife, you could.”
Blink. Blink. Blink.
My mouth dries up and I look around the outside of the tub for anything to drink. Water, beer, a shot of Fireball. I don’t care what it is, just anything that will quench my sudden thirst.
“Your what?” I croak.
Kellan shifts around, both hands now on the tops of my knees, thumbs applying pressure to emphasize his seriousness.
“Listen, I’ve thought through every option, and this is the only one that will work. That doesn’t take time to process. But you see, I couldn’t marry just anyone. While on paper it’s just a legal thing, I want the real thing. And I know I experienced that with you, Hollis. It may not have been love because we didn’t have the time to explore that. But I know I have feelings for you because it was hard as hell to leave you two years ago.”
My head sifts through all of this and it’s too crazy to even comprehend.
“Wife?”
He nods, a rueful grin turning into a shy one. “Yeah, I know it’s weird. Crazy even.”
“Unlawful,” I add.
His cheeks flush a bright pink. “Perhaps it would be like that if I married someone who I didn’t care for or have a strong connection with. But Hollis, you have to agree that we have something here between us.” He jabs a finger across the water at us both. “We’ve always had it. It’s still there. At least for me.”
“That’s different. It’s physical. That isn’t a basis for marriage, Kellan.”
He tips his head to the side, giving me that look. That cute, puppy-dog grin that says, “don’t kid yourself.”
“People have gotten married for a lot less.”
I close my eyes and hang my head when it dawns on me. Wait, this could benefit me, too. I’d be married and my chance to gain ownership of Flying Aces would come to fruition. It would satisfy my obligation to my grandfather and work out for Kellan, too.
Two birds, one stone.
But I’m not about to tell Kellan any of this. One, because I want him to think I’m doing him a solid and a huge favor. And two, the way his fingers flutter between my knees is super distracting, and I really can’t even think at the moment.
I remain quiet, mulling over all the implications of this arrangement. But I don’t have to think too hard, because Kellan has other ideas.
“Hollis, I can make it worth your while,” he murmurs, his hand sliding up the juncture between my legs, retracing its path before he hits my center. He leans in, mouth poised at my neck as I feel his warm, licorice scented breath fan over my skin.
His lips connect with that sensitive spot, and as if on autopilot, I tilt away so he can taste more of me. The wetness of his mouth sends goosebumps skittering over my shoulders and down my spine, my nipples turning to hard nubs. My breasts grow achy and needy for touch.
As if reading my mind, he moans into my skin, raising his hand to my breast, finding my nipple and flicking it with his fingernail. And then he repeats the action and I yelp from the pleasure.
“Do you know how long it took me to stop tasting you on my tongue?”
