“We keep it simple, like Sin said. We’ve been close friends for years. We’re crazy in love, been married for a few months. No kids. No pets. If she presses us on where we live, we’ll tell her Maryland. You’re an exhibitionist. I’m vanilla and I love to satisfy your needs. We’re Mr. and Mrs. Black. Boom. Done.”
“If she asks about careers, we tell her retail.”
“Got it,” he said. “What about condoms? We are married.”
“It’s standard protocol to use them at kink parties.” Pausing, she spun her rings. “And if they invite us to play tonight?”
“We play.”
“I’m nervous.”
Maverick collected her hands in his. “Why the jitters?”
“Your career is riding on this. Combining work and kink and you…it’s a lot to process.”
“You can absolutely pull this off. I believe in you and, like Sinclair said, ‘together we’re unstoppable’.”
She squeezed his hands. “Right. Of course we can do this.” She broke away to flip the chicken in the skillet.
“I’ve got something for you.” Clasping her hand, he led her to the sofa. She eased down and gazed up at him.
Despite the fact that theirs was a faux marriage, his heart pounded double time. He was giving her something that had once symbolized the union of his beloved parents.
He fished the rings from his pocket and sat beside her. “I stopped by to see my dad.” He opened his fist and revealed the silver bands.
Her eyes grew large. “You told him what we’re doing?”
“I told him we’re working a case posing as husband and wife. He offered these. Let’s see if my mom’s ring fits.” As he slid the ring on her finger, a sense of completeness washed over him. Then, he gazed into her eyes. “Carly, will you be my pretend wife?”
Sadness flashed in her eyes. “It’s lovely.”
“It fits, too.” He held out his dad’s ring. “Make it official, woman.”
She stared at that ring like it had grown a set of razor-sharp teeth. Then, with trembling fingers, she slid the band onto his finger. She had to shove it over his thick second knuckle, but once she’d cleared it, the ring looked like it belonged there. “Ash, we are bound together until the end of this gig.”
“Gotta seal it with a kiss.”
Her eyes widened. “Ash—”
“This has got to look and feel real. If Greta or someone on her staff thinks we’re up to something, we’ll get booted out. Kiss me, and make it good.”
She pressed her lips to his. He loved how her eyes fluttered closed, how she didn’t pull away when he kissed her, again and again. Soft, doting kisses that had him wanting more.
“Was that convincing enough for you?” she murmured.
He’d started to harden. “Oh, yeah.”
During dinner, she kept sneaking peeks at their wedding bands.
Maybe there’s hope for her yet.
When it came to her fetish, he needed more info. Rather than bumble through anything at Greta’s, he asked, “When you’re playing, what do you like?”
“To be watched, to be in control.” She sliced off a piece of chicken. “But you’re a total alpha, so I’d be a Switch, which means I would alternate between top and bottom depending on the situation and our sexual needs.”
“Got it. And just so that we’re clear, my fetish is pleasuring you.”
She held his gaze while a pink hue flooded her cheeks. No denying she liked that answer.
