I wanted to grab her nape and bite into her neck, mark her. I ran my tongue across my teeth and pushed the urge down. If she saw a glimpse of it, the delicate reporter would run.
I watched her push a strand of hair behind her ear before she finally met my gaze again. The air was tense, her big ocean blue eyes staring at me, and I waited for a bomb to detonate. Except, this woman kept it all tightly reined in. Like there were so many secrets she harbored, she didn’t even know her way out of them.
The faint tick of the clock and the sound of the ocean waves were like a soothing distraction from everything but the petite, curvy body sitting next to me.
She chewed on her lip, eyeing me suspiciously and a subtle blush ran up her neck. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, clearing her throat.
“It would be a fake marriage,” she stated, framed like a question and a suggestion at the same time. “Right?”
A sardonic feeling pulled in my chest. Was this woman really that oblivious to me? Even now, the attraction brewing inside me was strong. Like a hurricane getting ready to make landfall.
I paused, weighing my options. If I told her I want to bury my cock inside her pussy and fuck her to oblivion until she forgot any and all men before me, she was sure to reject the idea of our marriage.