Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“I’m good with that.” He puts his hands behind his head. “Give it your best shot, spitfire.” He at least has on a pair of sweatpants. That’s unfair.
“Why do you have clothes on and I don’t?” This is not where my focus should be, but this is also not where I’m supposed to be.
"We're back to that again?" He says this with a playful smile. This man is far too charming. Wait, I said that before. My confusion or lack of memory at the moment must show. "You’re the one that took your dress off."
"I did not."
I did. I one hundred percent did in fact do that. It's all flooding back. Pierce chuckled and tried to get me to put one of his shirts on, but I lied again and said it was scratchy against my skin. I'm a hussy. A loud gasp leaves me when I see a shiny band on my left finger. I lift my hand to inspect it quickly, remembering that I need that hand to cover my boobs. I close one eye to make sure I’m seeing things correctly and look again. Yep, still there.
"We got married." I scramble off his lap, almost rolling off the side of the bed. Pierce grabs hold of me so that I don't face-plant on the floor.
"You did that on purpose." One of his large hands is gripping one of my breasts, while the other hand is holding my hip.
"I wasn't the one hurrying off of me. I didn't want your little ass to go anywhere," he says with a slow drawl. "I want to spend the morning in bed with my wife."
"Don't call me that." I wiggle free, and he ensures that I land on my feet. I grab the phone from the nightstand and rush to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I place the phone on the ledge next to the sink. I cover my face in my hands when I catch sight of the hickey on my left breast. The one I demanded he give me so that I too could have a tattoo, at least that's what my drunk ass was calling it. I probably should never drink again. One night of being twenty-one and look at the mess I’m in.
I snatch the phone off the ledge and realize it's not mine. "You need the code, or would you like your own phone?" Pierce asks from the other side of the door. I only glare at it. It's actually a hard question to answer. I want both.
"I can't believe Hollis married us!" I put my hand over my mouth because I keep shouting things out of left field. Could I still be drunk? That has to be it.
"You threatened all of us with death if he didn’t."
My seduction plan grew as the night went on. I was sure if I was married to Pierce, then he could in no way be Biff's lawyer. This all made sense to me after consuming alcohol. I swear I thought I was some sort of mastermind.
"Sucker, no prenup!" He only chuckles. I flip the door open after I stumble with the lock, making it lose the dramatic effect I was going for. "What's so funny?" I use my forearm to cover my boobs.
"You make me laugh." He gives a lazy shrug of his shoulders.
Pierce has got one hand braced on each side of the doorframe, his sweatpants hanging low, showing off the hard outline of his cock. It's proportionate to the rest of him.
"We can't even be married. We didn't consummate the marriage." I would know if that had been inside of me.
"No better time than the present."
"You horndog." I sound like my grandma. Who says horndog?
"Horny for my wife? Isn't that as it should be?" I'm shaking my head no the whole time he speaks. Yet my body is feeling the exact opposite. The thought of him wanting me and calling me his wife is pushing all of the right buttons.
"It doesn't matter. That"—I point at his cock—"will never fit inside of me."
"That's all right." His voice goes soft and sympathetic. "If I can only ever get a few inches in, I'll still die a happily married man in the end." My mouth drops open, and I’m honestly at a loss for words.
"Oh my God." That’s the best I can do right now. I slam the door again but jerk it back open, this time not covering myself. He's already seen it. I hold my hand out with my shoulders back. He takes it and kisses the back, and I smack his hand away. "My phone, you pervert."
"I'm the pervert?" His brows rise in a challenge. I might have been the one climbing all over him. He spent most of the time making sure I didn't fall. Thank God he was a gentleman or who the hell knows how much further last night would have gone? I respect him for that.