I rolled my eyes, jutting my hip out in defiance.
“He pulled me down. I didn’t actually offer to sit on his lap. Besides, I was in the picture sitting on their damn lap, not riding their dicks.”
He dragged a hand over his face, frustration radiating off him in waves.
“God, you have such a potty mouth. And news flash: we already had a shotgun wedding, so we don’t need to bring any more suspicion to us.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging my anger to myself like armor.
“Do you even know who those guys were?”
“No.”
“One of the guys is the son of Branson News, and the other guy, Johnny, his dad owns a chain of restaurants and buildings. One good review from him could make this place blow up.”
His voice lost some of the heat, and for a second, a crack appeared in his fury.
The lines at the corners of his eyes softened just a hair.
“So while you are over here stewing, I’m actually working and trying to help your ungrateful ass.”
I bit down a bitter laugh.
“I don’t call flirting and using your body to land deals working. It’s more like hustling.”
He took a step forward, muscles tight, eyes glittering with something dark.
“Wow. You just can’t help yourself. You just have to insult me, don’t you?”
“It’s not an insult. It’s a fact.”
Something inside me snapped.
I surged forward, shoving my face close to his, our breath mingling — sharp, uneven, charged.
Our noses almost brushed.
“Just because you think the little bit of information I told you made you think you can break me, you have another thing coming. And if you don’t watch it, I will fuck those guys because remember, we aren’t really married, this is a F?—”
I didn’t even finish.
His mouth crashed into mine, a brutal collision that stole the breath from my lungs. His hands clamped around my thighs and lifted me off the ground like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped around him on instinct, my body betraying every angry thought screaming in my head.
He kissed like he fought, fiercely and without apology.
His tongue ravaged my mouth, demanding more, dragging more from me. I clutched at his hair, at his shoulders, desperate and furious and craving him in ways I hated to admit.
A low groan vibrated from his chest into mine as he angled my head and deepened the kiss, plundering me, taking.
His fingers dug into my ass, anchoring me to him, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of even an inch between us.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
This couldn’t happen.
This shouldn’t happen.
But it was happening.
