Then maybe you wouldn’t be so intent on forcing her to marry you …
I order the steak and lobster, and Brielle orders a salad and scallops. When the waiter walks away, she glances at the water, andI can’t help but look at her. I’ve been thinking about her all week, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered calling off the marriage a dozen times. But then I’d see her—at her brother’s office, working out at the gym, eating lunch with her friend at the country club—and it’d renew my need to make her mine.
“Brielle?”
We both glance up and find a beautiful older woman standing there with a gentleman by her side.
“Mom, I didn’t know you were home.” Brielle stands and gives her mom a hug.
“We got in this afternoon. Decided to come home sooner since Matteo thinks Dani might go into labor earlier than her due date,” her mom explains. “The house hasn’t been stocked, so I dragged Walter out.” She laughs, her blue eyes lighting up with mirth, and her husband chuckles. “Are you going to introduce us?” she asks, glancing at me curiously, which tells me that Brielle hasn’t told her mom about our arrangement.
“I’m Kane,” I say, standing and shaking her hand. “Kane Morgan.”
I shake Walter’s hand, and he nods.
“Walter Freedman, and this is my wife, Larissa.”
“W.F. Asset Management,” I note. “I have an appointment with your firm on Monday.”
“Ah, yes,” he says. “I thought I recognized the name. What has you relocating to Harbor Point?”
“A business opportunity I couldn’t pass up,” I tell him, glancing at Brielle with a small, knowing grin. “My financial adviser decided to retire, and since I plan to place roots in Harbor Point, I figured it was time to find a new adviser.”
Brielle glares my way, and her mom must notice because her brows furrow in confusion and probably a little bit of concern. But before Larissa can comment, the waiter comes over with our oysters.
“Brielle,” her mom says, “let’s do brunch soon.” She gives her daughter a kiss on each cheek, then glances at me. “Kane, it was nice to meet you.”
“You as well,” I tell her.
Once they excuse themselves, I look at Brielle with a raised brow.
“What?” she hisses, plucking an oyster off the platter. “I wasn’t about to tell my mother over the phone that I was being forced to get married.” Her eyes dart around the area, like she’s making sure nobody can hear her. “And I was hoping you’d die before she returned and there’d be nothing to tell her.”
I chuckle as she pries the oyster shell open and forks the meat like she didn’t just wish me dead. She dips the meat into the butter and then brings it up to her plump lips, parting them and slowly sliding it into her mouth. My gaze is stuck on her red lips and the way she gracefully chews and swallows.
“What?” she repeats when she notices me staring.
“You’re a contradiction.” I take a sip of my water, wishing it were something stronger. Being around Brielle is fucking with my head.
“Most men would call that bipolar. You sure you want to marry me?” She quirks a perfectly shaped brow. “I could easily kill you in your sleep, and everything you’ve done would be for nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time I killed a man.” She shrugs nonchalantly, and for whatever crazy reason, her threats are as much of a turn-on as her sucking my dick.
“I think I’ll take my chances,” I say, opening an oyster. “I’ve tasted your pussy and stuffed it with my cock, and it’s worth risking my life over.”
8
Brielle
This man.This cocky, arrogant fucking man is going to drive me to insanity.
I hate him.
I hate everything about him.
But then he reminds me of our night together, and like a conditioned dog at the sound of a bell, I salivate at the thought of him bringing me to another orgasm.
“I hope you enjoyed my pussy,” I tell him, “because it’s never happening again.”
He wants to force me to marry him—fine. But that doesn’t mean I have to participate in any sort of wifely duties, including having sex with him.
