The Reason I Married Him by Meghan Quinn

Author:Meghan Quinn [Quinn, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

THE NEXT NIGHT . . .

I curl into my pillow, listening to the sound of Wyatt typing away on his computer. He told me he had to address something and asked if it was okay that he took care of it before bed. I told him it was fine, and I rested in bed for a bit, but as he continued to type away, I started to drift to sleep, so I turned into my pillow, turned off my light, and now I’m resting my eyes just as I hear him click his computer shut.

He moves around the room, checks the locks, then slips into bed, only to slide across the mattress and right up against me, getting in his cuddling position. But instead of resting his head, he leans up on his elbow, hovering over me, and then I feel his hand come around to my jaw. He gently tilts my face in his direction. His strong grip not only sends a euphoric chill through my limbs, but it also creates the right angle for him to lean down and kiss me.

Just like last night, he parts his lips, and I part mine. His mouth works over mine as his hand holds me in place, and I sink into the mattress, relaxing as he kisses me once, twice, three times, and on the last one, his tongue runs across my lips, and I swear on this entire farm that I nearly moan from it.

But luckily, I clamp down on my mouth before I can let out the sound.

It stays trapped inside me, swirling around, making me feel dizzy and chaotic. Warm and fuzzy. Dazed and confused.

That kiss . . . that was short, but the perfect length to entice me.

I don’t want to admit this, but God, I want more.

Keeping his head right next to mine, he says, “Good night, Aubree.”

“Good night,” I answer, but he doesn’t move. He hovers above me, and I’m not sure why. Does he want another kiss? I wouldn’t be opposed because we’re practicing after all.

After a few seconds, he sighs, lowers himself to the bed, and drapes his arm over me.

Why did he pause?

Did I do something wrong?

This bouncing, pulsing energy that has my nerves rattling inside me takes hold of my voice, and before I can stop myself, I ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, his body moving against mine as he holds me close.

“Are you sure? Because it seemed like you were mad about something.”

“I thought you didn’t do feelings,” he says, his head now buried in my hair.

“I don’t, but I just want to make sure that I didn’t, you know, do anything wrong.”

“Nope,” he says simply. “Nothing wrong.”

“Like nothing wrong with the kiss?”

“Especially nothing wrong with the kiss,” he replies. “That kiss was . . . fuck, it was good.”

I feel my cheeks heat as my nipples harden against my shirt from his approval. The praise, the gruffness in his tone, the male satisfaction as he holds me close.

It makes me feel .

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