As in, this man isn’t going anywhere.
And I’m going to have to learn how to make the best of it.
Chapter Fifteen
Perry
I’m in a mood.
Arguing with Charlotte feels like foreplay. Or maybe I’m just horny. Doesn’t help that I’m drunk. I stayed after hours with Winston, and we shared a few glasses of whiskey before I came home.
I might’ve guzzled down two or three.
Three. Though that last one was more like half a glass. Winston took it away from me about twenty minutes before I left, telling me I needed to sober up. I was too far gone for that, and he knew it, so he walked me down to his own personal car and told the driver to take me straight to purgatory, AKA my new home with ol’ wifey-to-be here.
The beautiful woman who is currently glaring holes into my head.
She’s so damn confusing. Sending mixed messages all the time. One minute she hates me, the next she’s thanking me for saving her. I know she’s unhappy. I know her father treats her like garbage, and for some reason, knowing all of that makes me feel protective towards her.
I shouldn’t give a shit. She’s nothing to me. Just a fake future wife. But the way she’s staring at me right now, her expression all wide-eyed vulnerability, it does something to me.
Twists up my insides.
Makes my heart beat harder.
Makes my dick hard too.
“Are you drunk?”
I wince, scratching the side of my head. Damn her voice is loud.
She’s cute though, clad in the plain black T-shirt and high-waisted jeans, a simple yet stylish outfit. Mom jeans is what Tins calls them. Charlotte’s blonde hair is in a high ponytail and I’m half tempted to give it a solid yank, wrap those silky strands around my fist.
So that’s exactly what I do.
“Ow!” Charlotte whips around, backing toward that wall of windows behind her. “What the hell, Perry?”
“Pretty sure that’s the first time you ever called me by my name.” I stalk toward her, my steps careful. Slow. She backs up for every forward step I take until she has nowhere to go, her butt bumping against the window, her blue eyes wide and unblinking.
“Go away,” she says, yet somehow it sounds more like “come closer” to me.
Or maybe that’s my drunk ass misinterpreting it.
Like a complete dick, I crowd her, bracing my hands on the glass on either side of her head, staring her down. She glares up at me, her jaw working, those blue eyes now blazing with unmistakable anger.
Well, what do you know—my wife-to-be is beautiful when she’s mad. She looks ready to pummel me. At the very least, slap my face. I probably deserve it. I act all protective and shit a few nights ago and now I’m pushing her around like I want to intimidate her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Fuck. I am horny. That’s my problem. I’m horny for the pretty woman wearing my diamond on her finger—and I checked, she’s got that engagement ring on. Possessiveness fills me, the ring like a claiming. It tells everyone that she belongs to me.
Whether I want her or not.
Right now, I’m thinking I might want her.
Huh. Blaming the alcohol for this.
I lean in, brushing my face against her hair, taking a deep sniff.
Damn. She smells…
Delicious.
“What are you doing?” Her voice trembles, the soft sound of it doing things to me.
Like making my dick hard.
“Getting to know you,” I whisper, nuzzling the side of her head with my cheek. “What are you wearing?”
“Um…clothes?”
A chuckle escapes me. “I mean your perfume.”
“Oh.”
When she’s quiet for too long, I dip my head, my mouth right at her ear, my lips brushing it when I speak. “You didn’t answer me.”
Charlotte hesitates before murmuring, “I’m not wearing any perfume.”
She just naturally smells this delicious.
I’m completely fucked.
“Perry…”
“I like it when you say my name.” I shift, pressing my face against her neck and inhaling sharply.
She’s trembling. Her skin is so soft. Fragrant. I press my lips to her throat, trying to ignore the electricity that crackles when my mouth makes contact with her skin, but damn.
Damn.
I breathe her in, high as a motherfucker on her smell. The feel of her. We’ve been playing this we’re in love game for days, weeks, and I think it’s finally getting to me.
As in, I want her. I want to know what she looks like naked. I want to know what she’ll do when I suck her nipple into my mouth. The sounds she makes when I fuck her with my fingers.
The look on her face when I enter her for the first time. When I make her come.
Yeah, I want to know all of that. Every single bit of it.
Her hands settle on my chest and I press into her palms, crowding her even more. Ignoring the warning bells going off in my head, I continue kissing her neck, unable to stop.
I should probably stop.
Pulling away slightly, I take her in, trying to gauge her mood. She watches me with a dazed look in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Her voice is a scratchy whisper.
“Didn’t you already ask me that?” Quick as lightning, I slip an arm around her waist, pulling her into me. She gasps, her fingers curling around the lapels of my jacket. “Fuck, you feel good.”
Even better than I imagined.
“You’re drunk.”
“You said that already, too.” I’m about to lean in and sniff her neck again when she somehow wrenches herself completely out of my arms, darting halfway across the room in a matter of seconds.
Disappointment floods me and I shake it off. She doesn’t feel the same. She treats me like I might give her a terrible disease and she wants nothing to do with me.
Fuck.
“I won’t let you seduce me while you’re intoxicated.” She wraps her arms around herself as if she’s trying to ward me off.
“Who said anything about letting me seduce you?” I raise my brows.
Her disgusted glare is hot on my skin. “Never going to happen.”
I start toward her. “You really think you have a choice in the matter?”
Charlotte frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Me seducing you. As if you have a choice.” I keep walking while she remains frozen in place.
“I won’t succumb so easily to your charms.” Her tone is snotty. Her expression arrogant.
Damn, this woman.
Her resistance is arousing, but she needs to know her place.
A scowl forms on my face—I can actually feel it.
Shit. I’m thinking like my brother.
I stop within a few feet from my fiancée, my smile slow as I contemplate her. “You almost did just now.”
Without waiting for her reply, I stroll out of her bedroom, whistling the entire way, pleased with myself.
Pleased even more with her reaction.
*
Charlotte doesn’t come out of her bedroom for at least an hour. Just enough time for me to unpack my stuff in the equally large bedroom across the hall from hers and take a quick shower. I’m headed to the kitchen to figure out what to eat when I run into an older gentleman wearing a black suit, Doja Cat in his arms.
I stop short. “Hey.”