Page 7 of House Rules
My head comes back. A fake fiancée? What the hell? That’s the last thing I expected him to say.
“You see, I have to attend a cocktail party tomorrow night. It’s important the client thinks I’m settled. The best way for me to convince him I’m no longer a guy who fucks random women is to have a fiancée on my arm.”
Holy God, his dirty mouth is doing the most ridiculous things to me.
“What do you say?” He runs his fingers along my nape, and I visibly quiver.
“So this deal,” I begin, a measure of disappointment sitting in my gut. “It’s just about me pretending to be your fiancée tomorrow night, nothing more.”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
“Oh? Then, what exactly would you say?”
“I’d say it’s about fucking, too, Kitten.”
Holy cripes, Sean’s dad might be a minister, but honest to God, this man is a dirty-talking bad boy, a sinner all the way. I think I’m in love.
I try to present boredom. “What’s in it for me?” I ask, like the sex he’s offering doesn’t quite cut it. Oh, but it does. It does so much my insides are in chaos and my entire body is ready to go up in a burst of flames.
A devilish glint dances in his eyes, and my pulse pounds in my throat. “We can negotiate it.”
“I’m a pretty good negotiator,” I say. I’m not.
“Yeah, me too. I’m an investment banker. I negotiate. It’s what I do. And I’m damn good at it.”
“Sounds like a guy who always gets his way.”
“That’s right. So, what will it take, Kitten?”
Me, in your bed.
“Name your price.”
“Are you suggesting you’ll pay me to fuck you?” I square my shoulders. “I’m not a hooker.”
He grins, and my toes curl in my ridiculously high heels. “No, I’m going to pay you a dollar amount to attend a function with me. The fucking is just a benefit of the pretend engagement. And forget about house rules. Only my rules apply when you’re in my bed.”
His rules. The guy didn’t look or act like any rules applied to him.
Halle-freaking-lujah!
His fingers slide down my back, brushing along the zipper. “I know you like that idea.”
I lift my chin, a feeble attempt at dignity, even though he’s right—I do like that idea. In fact, all I want to do is drop to the floor and spread my legs for the guy I’d been crushing on since my teenage years. “Really? How do you know that?”
His gaze moves over me, undressing me with his eyes. The slow, leisurely inspection, combined with the heat in his eyes, suggests he’s considering every depraved activity he’d like to do to me. My breath grows quicker, my nipples swelling to the point of pain.
“Because, Kitten”—he bends his knees and his cock presses against my sex—“you want this. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your body.”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
His gaze moves over mine, and something dark flashes in his eyes, something that tells me he’s not a man to be played with. “Yes or no?” he asks.
Jesus, it’s been a long time since I’ve been around Sean. He was always bossy, but now he’s a direct, straight-shooting, right-to-the-point kind of guy.
I try for casual. “Well…I suppose I could help out with the function. I really don’t have any plans for the weekend.”
“And the fucking?” I open my mouth, but he presses his finger to my lips to stop me. “Before you answer, you should be warned, though.” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, forcing his way inside. “I might just destroy this pretty mouth of yours with my cock. Ever since you climbed on stage, all I’ve thought about is having these sweet lips wrapped around me.
