Read His 24-Hour Wife (The Hawke Brothers 2) Online
Authors: Rachel Bailey
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Adult, #Wife, #Temporary, #Vegas, #Marriage, #Fling, #Wedding, #Work, #Blackmailed, #Co-worker, #Threat, #Sham, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Charade, #Sagas, #Brothers, #Contemporary Women
“You still want me,” she said, though she didn’t need the confirmation.
“Of course I do.” He stopped and faced her. Framed by the star-studded sky, his skin luminescent in the moonlight, he seemed different from both her Vegas groom and her housemate who kept his emotions tightly leashed. His eyes held a potent mix of surprise and open desire.
“You didn’t know?” he whispered.
She swallowed. “You’re very good at playing your cards close to your chest.”
“That was for my own benefit.” He winced, clearly uncomfortable with the confession. “More denial than secrecy.”
“I thought I was in this hell alone.” Despite his own admission, as soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back. He may still feel desire for her, but he clearly didn’t want to let things develop between them.
She looked over his shoulder at the surf pounding behind him, trying to find her equilibrium. In Vegas, even after they’d sobered up, she’d been infatuated with him. In all honesty, she had been since the first conference where they’d met and she’d spent the night in his bed. By the third conference, when he’d suggested saying vows, she’d been halfway in love with him. His quick backtracking the next morning had taken those fledgling feelings and stomped all over them. Not quite broken her heart, since she hadn’t handed that to him, but close.
Her gaze found his again, and she felt the connection like an electric jolt.
If she let herself develop feelings for him now—and that would be such a simple thing to do, given the way he was looking at her, his expression open and troubled—it wouldn’t be as easy to shrug off the hurt when he turned away again. In fact, she had a suspicion it would be harder than anything she’d ever had to overcome before. And yet, she couldn’t look away. Couldn’t make herself start walking again. Couldn’t stop wanting...
“You’re not alone,” he said, his fingers brushing her hair back behind her ears.
As he touched her cheek, her breath caught and his gaze dropped to her mouth. The sound of the ocean receded and all she could see was him. Adam. His lips were slightly parted, his chest was rising and falling in rhythm with hers.
If she had felt this way about any other man, any other time, she would have leaned in and kissed him, but this was Adam who had just trusted her with his deepest fears about losing control. She had to wait for him to decide. That was if she survived the time it took for his decision. Every moment of hesitation felt like a lifetime.
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and he watched the motion. Her skin grew warmer, and still she waited.
Finally, with a groan, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. His mouth landed on hers, all heat and need and heaven, and it felt as if they’d never been apart. As if this was where she always wanted to be.
She leaned into him, feeling the strength of his frame as he drew her closer. His tongue stroked along hers, causing a sinfully glorious sensation. The touches they’d shared during their charade were like a candle flame compared to this bonfire. Lost to the magic of his kiss, she reached her hands to thread through his hair.
“Adam,” she murmured. In response, he eased back.
For long seconds all she could hear was their loud breaths before the rest of the world began to intrude.
His expression was stunned, which pretty much summed up how she felt. Their chemistry was as explosive as ever.
“Maybe we should keep walking,” he said, and she nodded. For some reason a public beach felt more intimate right now than a house with only the two of them.
They headed for home, walking close, but not touching.
“I’m thinking it might have been better if we hadn’t had this conversation tonight,” she said once her breathing was even.
“The conversation or the kiss?” His tone was lower, rougher than before.
“Both, but I meant the conversation. We’re pretending to be head over heels for each other when the cameras are on. Keeping the line between fantasy and reality would be an issue for anyone in a similar situation, but we’ve just blurred the line a little.”
“You think keeping it firmly in place was easy these past few days?” As they walked, he stroked a hand down her back, sending shivers across her skin. “Shutting down my response to you when other people left the room? Hauling myself back when the camera was packed away?”
“There’s no alternative—we got ourselves into this situation.” Except there was another option, one she’d been refusing to consider. But perhaps now was the time...? “Okay, what if there was? An alternative.”
Dark eyebrows swooped down in a frown. “Stage a breakup?”
“No, the plan is still working for the trust and my career. But we’re stuck together, alone, letting the world think our marriage is real.” Her heart skipped a beat as she contemplated saying this aloud. “Why not take advantage of the perks of the situation instead of fighting them?”
“Isn’t that dangerous considering what we just discussed? This can’t go anywhere.” His words weren’t enthusiastic, but he didn’t move away from her side as they walked; his expression didn’t close off.
It was a good point to have in the back of their minds, but it didn’t have to stop them. “We’ve already slept together. More than once. And this time we’re going in with our eyes open.”
They reached the stairs that led to his house, and he turned to her.
“Are you saying you want to have a fling with me, Callie?” His voice was low and as dark as night.
A fling? It sounded so deliciously decadent. Her heart fluttered, and she had a moment’s doubt—could she be involved with Adam Hawke again, share his bed, and not start to hope for more? She looked away, then back to her husband. Of course she could. If he could keep his heart guarded, then she could, as well.
“If we’re not expecting it to develop into more, what could it hurt?”
He took a step closer. “Are you sure?”
“If you’re willing to try it, then I’m in.” She crossed her fingers behind her back for luck, hoping she knew what she was doing.
His gaze dropped to her lips and lingered a moment before returning to her eyes. “Then I have a proposal.”
“You’ve been there and done that. I have the marriage certificate to prove it.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “A proposal of a different kind.”
“I’m listening.” In fact, he had every last scrap of her attention.
“We go inside now and give ourselves tonight.” He traced a warm palm down her arm. “One night to share a bed, and we reassess in the morning.”
Her body had gone into meltdown at the mention of sharing a bed, but she forced herself to think through what he was offering. “What do you think will be different tomorrow?”
“We make sure we’re both happy with the arrangement. Neither one of us feels...emotionally compromised.”
“Emotionally compromised? You say the sweetest things.” She drew in a breath. “And if neither of us does?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Then we consider turning this into a fling for the duration of our sham marriage.”
Every nerve ending in her body lit up and buzzed. She had trouble finding her voice, until finally she whispered, “Deal.”
Seven
A
dam led Callie by the hand through the house to his bedroom, resisting the urge to haul her against him the entire way. If he did that, they wouldn’t make it to his room, and it was of burning importance to make love to her in his bed.
The other times they’d slept together, the situation hadn’t quite felt real. It wasn’t just that they’d been drinking, it was also because they’d been at a conference in Vegas, away from their everyday lives. For three years running, they’d carved a slice of time together that didn’t have to mesh with their reality.
Tonight things would be different.
Tonight, it was real.
As they reached the threshold to his room, he paused and glanced at Callie. Perhaps because it would be more real than anything that had come before, he needed to make extra sure she was fully on board with the step they were about to take. Nothing would be the same after this.
Her gaze steady on his, she leaned against him and cupped the sides of his face in her palms. Then she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Everything inside him burst to life, as if he was hyperaware of each cell in his body. And each cell wanted one thing—to be closer to Callie.
With her mouth moving over his, he gripped her hips, digging his fingers into the flesh there, anchoring him to the world. To have her pressed along the length of him, kissing him, was almost too much sensation at once, but he wanted more.
He tore his mouth away and tugged her toward his bed. Still fully clothed, he half laid, half fell onto the mattress, bringing her with him, and then resumed the kiss. Her mouth was hot and sensuous, and part of him felt as if this was the same kiss from three months ago, that it had been merely interrupted.
He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and then also stripped off the sweatshirt he’d given her. The feel of her skin against his chest was heavenly and a groan of satisfaction rumbled deep inside him.
“I’ve missed touching you,” he said, his voice barely a rasp.
She found his hands and brought them to her breasts, holding them over the cups of her bra for a long moment. “Then by all means, touch me some more.”
The note of teasing while her eyes were practically glazed with need was pure Callie. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she was above him, straddling his hips, her torso bare except for the white lace bra, and he took her up on the invitation to touch her some more.
His fingertips stroked down her sides, across her slightly rounded abdomen, back up to her collarbone. Her skin was smooth and silken and he might never get enough. Then he found her breasts once more and brushed across their peaks with his thumbs. Callie’s thighs tightened around his hips and her breath picked up speed. He repeated the motion, this time paying more attention to her reactions. A slow smile spread across his face—she liked it when he did this.
He should already know her likes and dislikes, but the alcohol had distorted his memories. Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra and tossed it to the side of the bed. He was going to need more freedom to discover everything he wanted to know.
He lifted himself to a seated position on the covers with Callie still straddling his lap, his hands on a journey of investigation. And everything he learned was like a secret as old as time, a secret he was privileged to be granted.
She tried to wriggle back and make room for her own hands.
“Oh, no,” he said, staying her hands. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment. I need a chance to explore.”
She smiled and rested her hands on her thighs, allowing him this.
“Thank you,” he said, punctuating it with a kiss on her collarbone, then another. When he reached her shoulder, he scraped his teeth across the skin, tasting as he went. She was faintly salty, with a trace of soap...and something extra—something that was hers alone.
He laid her down on the cover and pulled the track pants from her legs, taking her underwear with them. The sight of her naked was one thing he had retained complete memory of from their twenty-four-hour marriage and the times they’d come together before that, and yet...she still amazed him.
“Callie.”
Her gaze softened. “Nobody’s ever looked at me the way you do.”
He prowled over her on all fours, leaning in to whisper, “Then they were blind,” before taking her earlobe into his mouth, glorying in her gasp.
He kissed a path down her body, until he reached the juncture of her thighs. She deserved to be worshipped, and he set about doing just that. Every whimper that escaped her lips urged him on, every time she writhed under his mouth made him want to push her further. When she reached her peak and shouted his name to the ceiling, a surge of satisfaction filled his chest.
He pulled himself up the bed, holding her as she floated back to earth, feeling more content than he could remember. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and he wanted to do it all again, to make her call his name, so he raised himself on one elbow and trailed a hand over her stomach.
She gently pushed him back against the pillows.
“It’s my turn to explore,” she said, her eyes sparking.
His pulse spiked. He reached up and gripped the headboard and then nodded. “That’s fair.”
Her fingers lightly caressed his chest, sending goose bumps racing across his skin, and, as she moved down lower, his abdomen clenched tight at her touch. Then her tongue began to follow the same path, her teeth nipping every few heartbeats. He was on fire. The things she did to him with mere touches... It was craziness.
She moved farther south, and her mouth found him hard and ready. Her tongue licked up one side then down the other, and he gripped the headboard so forcefully he was surprised it didn’t break. Her hand joined her mouth, and he groaned out her name, trying to restrain his body from thrashing against the sheets, knowing he couldn’t stay completely still, but not wanting to break the contact with her mouth.
She moved higher, to his stomach again, then higher still, until her pelvis was over his groin, pressing down with luscious pressure. She kissed him, and he released his grip of the headboard to wrap his arms around her, finally touching her again.
Holding Callie in his arms was everything. The friction of skin on skin as they moved was bliss, almost more than he could stand. Not breaking their kiss, he rolled them over until they were side by side, and hooked a knee over her legs, wanting to touch her everywhere at once. His heart thundered in his chest, his mind swam. This was more than making love, but what did that make it?
Her hands began a journey down his sides, over his thighs and back to grip his length. He rested his hands on hers to hold them still. He needed to find protection before things went too far and he lost capacity for thought altogether—a place he was already dangerously close to. The only problem was, where would he find any? He didn’t normally like people in his personal space, so even when he was seeing a woman, he rarely brought her here. He squeezed his eyes shut as he forced his brain to reengage. Bathroom. There was a box in his private bathroom.
“Hold that thought,” he said and came close to breaking the land-speed record on the way to retrieve a condom.
When he made it back to Callie’s side, she put her hand out. “May I?”
He handed it over without hesitation. He’d be crazy to say no anytime she wanted to lay a hand on him. As she opened the foil packet, and then held him in one palm and started rolling the condom down his length, he let out a low groan. The torment of her touch, of it never being enough, was going to kill him.
He eased down to lie along the length of her, pulling her close, needing to feel as much of her body against his skin as he could. As he kissed her, she threaded her arms around him, lightly trailing her fingernails down his back and digging into his buttocks in a delicious nip of sensation.
The kiss became more passionate, his body’s demands more insistent, and when Callie began to writhe against him, clearly needing more, he rolled her beneath him and settled himself in the cradle of her thighs. Her hands still gripped his rear end, encouraging him, so he reached down and positioned himself, and then found her silver-blue gaze. How could he have forgotten how exquisite it was to have this woman in his bed? Never again—he’d remember every second of tonight for the rest of his life.
With deliberate slowness, he stroked into her and then held still, savoring the sensation of Callie holding him inside her. But too soon, the insistent beat in his body demanded he move, so he lifted his hips before plunging back again.
She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, changing the angle, and he clenched his jaw as he fought for self-control. He wouldn’t let this be over too soon. They’d only agreed on one night, and, though he would definitely vote for many more, he was acutely aware this might be the last time he made love to her. He wanted to make the most of it.
Once his—admittedly tenuous—grip on control was back in place, he began to move again, and she moved with him, finding their rhythm, moving together in a ragged harmony. His body urged him to rush headlong to the goal, his mind wanted him to slow down and take in each detail. The result was somewhere in the middle.
His eyelids grew heavy, but he fought to keep them open, gaze fixed on her face. In that moment, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, her skin glowing, her eyes hungry. For him. It made him burn for her even more.
Each stroke seemed to spark every nerve ending in his body, made his pulse race faster.
She was close, he could see it in the tension in her muscles, in the way her breath was coming in short pants. He reached between them, to the place they were joined, and stroked, and she froze, clenching around him and calling his name, until he couldn’t hold on any longer and followed her over the edge. Everything inside him, around him, dissolved into bright light and all there was in the universe was Callie.
Callie
.
Callie.
* * *
Callie woke curled around Adam. He lay on his back, one arm above his head on the pillow, the other holding her firmly against him. His breathing was even in sleep, and she carefully inched up on an elbow to look at him in the early-morning light streaming through the window.
His dark hair with its hints of deep mahogany was striking against the white pillow. Her gaze traveled languidly from there, past defined cheekbones to a jaw covered in day-old stubble. He was a picture of masculine beauty, and something moved in her chest as she watched him.
“Regrets already?” he asked without opening his eyes. His voice was gravelly with sleep, and it seemed to reverberate through to her soul.
She eased back down and snuggled into his warmth. “Just looking at what I’ve got myself into.”
His chest rumbled under her ear with a lazy chuckle. “And do I pass muster first thing in the morning?”
“You’ll do,” she said, her voice teasing.
His eyes blinked open and focused on her. “You’ll more than do. Early morning in my bed suits you.”
The comment triggered a contented warmth, which spread through her body. In fact, this could easily become her favorite place to wake up, but she didn’t want to scare him, so she didn’t reply. Instead, she stretched against his luxurious sheets and glanced around the room.
She hadn’t paid much attention to the master suite when they’d come in last night, but it deserved a good look. It was huge, done in the same white-on-white color scheme as the rest of the house, with indigo-blue blinds and comforter. A deep navy blue sofa sat beside a bank of white doors to closets that must hold all his clothes and personal items.
“You like plain decorating,” she said.
“I like simplicity.”
She turned back to face him. “Is this another facet of what you were talking about last night?”
“About only being able to cook tacos and eggs?” The corners of his mouth twitched.
He was being deliberately obtuse, and it delighted her to see him so relaxed. She lightly punched him on the arm and said, “Strangely enough, I wasn’t thinking of cooking. I meant about you keeping your wild side under control. You deliberately keep things simple and plain. Not a lot of color, no flowers in the house, nothing to rouse the passions.”
“There’s you,” he said and reached for her.
She went into his arms because it was still a novelty to have him unreservedly want her there, and because he was Adam. It was possible she would never deny him anything.
“In all seriousness,” he said once he’d tucked her against him again, her face comfortably nestled under his chin, “we said we’d talk about this—about us—this morning. How are you feeling about moving our relationship in this direction?”
“You mean us starting a fling?” It had been his word, and she wanted it on the table, no confusion.
He nodded. “What are you thinking today about us having a fling while you’re staying here? I’ve probably got another quarter around here somewhere if these thoughts cost as much as last time.”
“These thoughts are free.” She rubbed a hand over his chest as she spoke. “Having to keep my guard up around you, quite frankly, was exhausting. If we continue, besides the obvious advantage of more nights like last night, I’ll have a place I can be relaxed.”
“I want you to be able to relax while you’re staying in this house,” he said, his voice gentle. “That would mean a lot to me.”
The unexpected moment of tenderness moved her, and she reached up to place a kiss on his lips that was full of appreciation, though it quickly escalated into something much more. More beguiling. More intimate. More spine-tingling. Just more.
Long moments later, she broke away and lay back against the pillows to catch her breath. His darkened gaze followed her, his chest rising and falling in a similar heavy rhythm to hers.
“What about you?” She laid a hand along the side of his face, the day-old stubble exquisitely abrasive against the flesh of her palm. “How are you feeling about us?”
“Now that I have you back in my bed, I’m reluctant to let you leave again, so I’m all for this plan. In fact,” he said, trailing fingers down her side, “I think we should explore the finer points of the plan this morning.”