Her Fantasy Husband (Things to do Before You Die… #2)

“I somehow doubt that. It would be a matter of record, there for anyone who looked. And believe me, they will look.”


He wanted to ask why, but at the same time he didn’t want to get embroiled in her problems, in her life, which he was guessing was a whole lot of mess. And he didn’t do mess. He’d taken responsibility for another person once. It hadn’t turned out well, and he planned never to repeat the experience. Since he was seventeen, he’d worked hard to keep his own life nice and tidy and ordered.

A small hand rested on his thigh, and a shudder ran through him.

“Please, Josh.” Her voice was soft and pleading. “I’ll stay out of your life. You won’t even know I exist. We’ve managed this long. Just six more months. You don’t have to stay around—I’ll tell everyone you have an overseas assignment. Then, when you come back, we can get a nice quiet divorce.”

He hardly heard the words. He was fighting his own response to her closeness. That’s all it was. She was close, and he was suffering the effects of five years of abstinence. And for some strange reason, here was the one woman his crazy conscience seemed to believe he was allowed to touch. The hand shifted on his thigh, and the blood pooled in his groin. He suddenly became aware they were alone in the deepening darkness, hidden from the world. He didn’t want to be aware of that. She’d edged a little closer so her arm brushed his, and if he glanced sideways his gaze snagged on the swell of her breasts.

He’d been fighting his awareness of her all evening. Actually, longer than that. Since she’d pulled that stunt in her office and leaped into his arms. Kissed him. Stuck her tongue in his mouth.

He was in trouble, his dick already hard and raring to go.

No. Dammit.

He was stronger than this.

“Josh?”

He realized he hadn’t answered her, and she was looking at him expectantly. But his brain wasn’t working, and he didn’t want to open his mouth and say something he would later regret. He brushed off her hand and pushed himself to his feet. He needed to walk away, but he couldn’t leave her here. Reluctantly he turned and held out a hand.

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered. It wasn’t true. He’d already thought as much as he was willing to. He wanted free of her before he got further tangled up in her problems. But he wasn’t sure he could face her expression if he told her that right now. She looked so…hopeful.

She put her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet and then dropped it abruptly.

“Let me explain what’s at stake,” she said. “Then you can decide.”

His shoulders stiffened. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to know what’s at stake. It’s not my business, and I don’t want it to be.”

A hurt look flashed across her face, followed by disappointment, but both were gone in a second. She was good at hiding her feelings. No doubt she’d had to be, with that family of hers. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you with my problems. But you agreed to this.”

“I said I’d think about it.” The words came out harsher than he wanted, but she was messing with his head. He’d had the craziest urge to hold her close until the hurt went away. To kiss her until she forgot whatever her problems were. But that wasn’t who he was.

She bit her lip and took a step back from him. Her ankle gave in those ridiculous shoes, and she fell backward. He reached for her instinctively, and then his arms were around her. As he hauled her closer, her softness pressed into him, and he accepted defeat.

Not of the war, but maybe of this one small skirmish.

Because he had to kiss her again.

That was all—just to taste her, feel her. The need was overwhelming, clawing at him. Afterward, they’d go back, and tomorrow he would tell her he’d set the paperwork in motion for the annulment. Because she was trouble.

All that flashed through his mind in the seconds it took for her to wrap her hands around his shoulders and raise her head. For a moment, he stared down into her huge eyes as they blinked up at him, filled with longing. For him.

Never underestimate how much of a turn-on it is to be wanted.

And he gave in, lowered his head, and took her lips with his.

There was nothing tentative about her kiss. Her lips parted for him, and he pushed his tongue inside as his hands slid down her back and gripped her ass, hauling her even closer and lifting her so her feet left the ground. He backed her up until she hit the trunk of the oak tree, then he kissed her some more.

Hot, wet kisses, with an edge of desperation, their tongues stroking, caressing. His dick was rock hard now, and his balls ached viciously. How had it gotten so hot, so fast? She wasn’t his type, but with her breasts squashed against his chest and her stomach pressed against his cock, his body didn’t agree.

A little longer. Then he’d walk away.

His hands slid down her thighs and under the skirt, then up again, pausing as his palms hit bare flesh at the top of her stockings, and his breath hitched in his throat. He went still for a moment.