Irresistibly Dangerous : A Marriage of Convenience Romance (Irresistibly Yours Book 5), page 16
I drag a fuming Georgia through the suite and shove her into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind us. “Oh, really?” she glares, folding her arms defiantly and leaning against the sink. “This is going to be a door-locking situation?”
“Depends on how reasonable you are,” I retort. “We’re going to move you into my house in Maine.”
“What?!” she shrieks, her hands flying about. “You’re on their side with this? Come on, Lenox. No. We can’t live together, and you freaking know it.” She pokes the center of my chest.
“Keep your voice down. We don’t need everyone to hear us fight. Your ex and his father plan to contest the marriage. That much is clear. They’re going to say all sorts of things, like how you’re not mentally stable after your father’s loss and that I’m taking advantage of you.”
Her eyes narrow.
“You’ll be safe there,” I continue in a low voice. “No one can touch you, not even the press—at least at my house—and it’ll give me time to figure everything else out.”
“I can’t work in Maine,” she grits out between clenched teeth.
“You can get your license in Maine, Georgia. That’s a bullshit excuse, and you know it.”
“Zax and Grey don’t think I need to live with you.”
I give her an unamused look.
Her hands hit the top of her head. “Lenox, I don’t want to live with you!”
I chuckle, but there is no humor in it. I press her back into the sink, my hands going on either side of her body, caging her in as my anger builds. “You think I want that? You think bringing you into my house is a good time for me?”
She shakes her head, aggravation crawling through her features. She shoves me back, but I don’t go far. I don’t want outside ears to hear us. “Then why be so adamant about it?”
“I fucking married you, Georgia. Our agreement is for a year. That means for the next year, you’re mine to take care of whether I like it or not.”
“You can’t want that.”
“I just told you I don’t.”
“Then why are you doing this?” Her voice climbs, and I give her a warning look. Only Zax and Grey know how things are between us, and I’d like to keep it that way. She tempers herself. “Beyond saying I’m your responsibility because you fake married me, because that’s not adding up all the way.”
“Except it does. You’re my wife. That’s how this goes.” I hold up my left hand, showing her my band, getting right up in her face. “It’s like Callan said. Why bother marrying me if you’re just going to give them an in to disprove it? You told me yourself that the appearance of this being real is paramount. It was one of your goddamn rules for us. Fight me all you want, but your ass is coming home with me to Maine tomorrow.”
She grips my shirt, giving me a rough yank until we’re practically nose-to-nose. “Fuck you, Lenox. Husband or not, you don’t get to tell me where I’m going or what I’m doing. In fact, I’d never let my real husband get away with that shit.”
“Good for you and your imaginary real husband. If you wanted that, you should have married Ezra. But here, now, this is it. Stop being a stubborn pain in the ass and get over it.”
Panting rushes of air cleave from both of us, mixing in the minuscule space between us. She wants to fight this, and I get it because it’s a bad situation in the making, but what other choice do we genuinely have?
The problem is, we can’t seem to get our bearings with each other. We’re boiling hot and ice cold and occasionally flirt between both lines. And with that, I don’t know how to navigate her, and I think it’s the same for her with me.
We’re scarred love and bleeding hatred with a sutured-up form of gratitude and guilt connecting both sides. I want her. I’m crazed with want for her. Moving in with me will only make that worse and harder to fight, but the more I think about it, the more I want it. Fuck how irresistibly dangerous it is.
I’ve had this time with her, and I don’t want it to end. I don’t want it to be over. Even if she’s just there. Except when she sees my house... Fuck. That could be—
“I can’t move in with you,” she reiterates, cutting off my thoughts.
I growl a frustrated breath. “For fuck’s sake. Why not?”
“Because of this,” she snaps and then grabs my shirt in two fists and slams my lips to hers before shoving me back just as fast. “That’s why.”
My hands dive into her hair, and I grab her head, bringing her back to me and kissing her urgently. “You’re afraid you won’t be able to keep your pretty manicured hands to yourself?”
“Stop kissing me,” she hisses against my mouth, biting my lip. “I fucking hate you.”
Only her hands are in my hair and she’s holding me close, tilting her head, and kissing me back. Taking her by the hips, I lift her up and then drop her down onto the edge of the sink so I can step between her spread thighs.
“And yet I bet if I reached into your jeans, I’d find you soaked for me.”
She shoves angrily against me, breaking the kiss, but no fucking way am I letting her go anywhere without proving my point. I yank her back down off the counter and flip her around so I can undo the button and fly on her jeans. I’m fully aware we’re in a suite bathroom with our friends, her fucking cousins, who don’t want me touching her, just outside.
I should stop. But first…
I slide my hand down the front of her jeans, straight into her thong. She sucks in a rush of air, but instead of ripping my hands from her jeans, she puts hers on the counter, palms flat, fingers splayed.
I smirk, sucking on her earlobe as I find her bare pussy just as wet as I knew it would be.
“Still want me to stop?” I start to play with her clit, watching as her flushed face and hazy eyes grow hungrier in the reflection of the mirror.
She gasps, and I cover her mouth with my other hand.
“Hush. This is between us, and I don’t want them to hear,” I murmur in her ear, licking, nipping, biting, tasting. “We have something. There is no denying that.” I continue to play with her clit for another minute, watching her fucking stunning face in the mirror as I do before I slide lower and slip two fingers straight inside of her. She moans against my hand, and I rub my hard cock against her ass. “But you asked me to marry you for a reason. And with that reason, comes certain things we’re just going to have to live with.”
Her head falls back against my chest even as she can’t stop watching the motion of my hand as it moves in her jeans. I’d give anything to yank down her pants and slam inside her, but all that will do is pit her against me further. But making my girl come? That I can do and still get her to move in with me.
I shift my wrist and dive deeper into her, hitting her spot while giving my thumb access to her clit. I want to watch her fly because her face when she comes for me is like nothing else. I’d slay any dragon she has just for that chance. I press my hand tighter against her mouth, and a rush of wet heat coats my fingers. She likes this. Me stifling her moans. Us risking getting caught.
I should feel bad about this, and I know I will, but that time will come later.
“Georgia, you’re moving in with me.” I continue to fuck her with my fingers, picking up speed because we’re on borrowed time. “Tomorrow, you’re coming with me to Maine. And I’m fucking done arguing with you about it.”
She shakes her head against me.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Now come for me. I want to watch my beautiful wife come all over my fingers. I want your scent on them all night. I want to be able to lick them and taste you. And after that, I’ll stop. I won’t fuck you, and this will be it. But there is no way this isn’t happening.”
“Fuck,” she mumbles into my hand, grinding against me, seeking more, unable to stop.
“After this, it’s over,” I promise, wondering if it’s a promise I’ll actually be able to keep this time.
Her reflected gaze slinks up to mine, and then she’s coming all over my fingers, watching me watch her, knowing she’s just given in and yet also knowing she will always hold the upper hand with me. There will never be a time when I’m not hers. Whether she can see it in my eyes or feel it in my touch, I don’t know.
I’m risking my everything, and I need to get a grip before it all slips away from me.
The moment she comes down from her high, I slip my fingers out and lick them clean. “They’ll still smell like you. And I’ll keep them buried under my nose later as I jerk myself to the image of your face in that mirror.”
I pull away from her and go for the door, leaving her here to figure out the rest of her mind. Only the moment I open the door, I’m greeted by Aurelia. I quickly slam the door shut behind me, blocking it with my body.
“Relax.” She laughs lightly. “Lucky for you, I don’t have to pee, though I told them I did.” I scan to my left, but the suite is empty. “I sent everyone else downstairs, telling them I’d stay up here and wait for you to finish fighting.”
I squint at her, and she laughs harder.
“The game ended five minutes ago. Asher scored the winning touchdown on a quarterback sneak up the middle.”
“I…” I don’t know what to say.
“Do you know why I said her name that night at poker when everyone was teasing about setting you up?”
I don’t answer.
“You never came to town when she did. You’d always grimace or look away whenever her name was mentioned, but I’d see the ancient hurt in your eyes. Asher wonders why I’m so good at poker. It’s because I can read people. And I can read you. You love her.”
I startle back a step, relieved the door is closed and the water is running in the bathroom. Hopefully, Georgia didn’t hear that.
“You love her,” she repeats, and I grab her arm and walk us out of the suite and into the empty hallway, all the while she keeps talking. “But your guilt over the past and your love for your friends isn’t something you know how to overcome.”
I stop us a few doors down from our suite. “How do you know about my past with her?”
“Zax mentioned it without going into full details, but like I said, I can read you and I can put pieces together easily enough.”
I look down at the carpet between us, not willing to speak.
“When I first met you, I was terrified you’d hate me,” she says, and my head slingshots up until our eyes lock. “I was the woman doing stuff with Zax, falling in love with him as he fell for me, and I was worried you’d hate me for it because of Suzie.”
I shake my head, losing my words, but still managing, “I didn’t.”
She smiles softly at me, her blue eyes sparkling. “I know.”
I shake my head again. “She would have hated what he turned into and loved you for everything you’ve given him. I loved you for what you were doing for him.”
Her hand reaches my shoulder. “I know. Because you have a big, beautiful heart, Lenox. You don’t see it. I know you don’t. But only someone with a heart capable of that sort of love and understanding would want it for others. Suzie may have been like that, but you are too.”
“I hurt Georgia. Terribly. Unforgivably. I hurt my best friends too and did not deserve their mercy. Not after what I did. Georgia hates me, and with good reason.”
“If she were indifferent to you, then I’d believe she hates you. Her sort of hate is self-preservation and protection. Sometimes the right person comes along at the wrong time. That doesn’t make them wrong for us, it makes us wrong for them. Maybe you didn’t do things the right way back then, but you walked away and changed your life. You didn’t blame anyone else for your mistakes. You owned them, faced them, and came out stronger because of them. You do so much for others, but what do you do for yourself?”
It's as if she’s ripping out my insides and feeding them through a meat grinder. Helping Georgia is supposed to be a salvation. A way out of this omnipresent guilt, at least where she, Zax, and Grey are concerned. But this… I don’t know how to breathe through this.
Her warm hand finds my face, and though she doesn’t look like Suzie, their features are somewhat similar. Blonde hair and blue eyes and such fire and strength, you can’t help but love them.
“You are deserving, Lenox Moore. Every bit as much as Zax was, if not more. If you love Georgia, which I suspect you do since you look at her like she’s your universe, then don’t let that go simply because you didn’t do right by her once. Don’t stand in your own way when you can have everything.”
Aurelia turns and walks away, leaving me here for a moment, feeling like I just had the wind punched out of me. She called me deserving. And being deserving of Georgia is all I’ve ever wanted to be.
Georgia is singing at the top of her lungs, as she has been for the last two hours since we left my house. She woke up like a chirpy bird, twirling around my house this morning in what she mockingly referred to as pajamas—a thin tank top and tiny boy shorts—drinking coffee and asking me about the most painful places on the body to get tattoos. It’s a total one-eighty from how we left things last night, and when I raised a questioning brow at her, she simply shrugged and said, “What else can I do?”
I left it at that with no desire to argue with her further, and now she’s commandeered my car’s sound system, her phone connected to it, playing all kinds of music from Taylor Swift to eighties pop to fucking Central Square to Cian O’Connor and even Dex Chapman.
But it’s a fucking Central Square song she has on now that has her leaning over the console of my car, using her fist as a microphone, and serenading me in a virtual duet with Grey all the while I grumble and pretend to be annoyed just so she’ll keep singing to me. Georgia’s voice gives me chills, it’s so good.
The song comes to an end, and she turns it down now that I’ve taken an exit off the highway for Lavender Lake.
“What? No Whitney Houston?” I quip.
She sighs dramatically. “Oh, if only I could belt it like Whitney.”
I won’t tell her she sings better.
“So, does this mean we’re here?”
I thump my thumb on the top of the steering wheel. “There are some things you need to know.”
She curls up in her seat and places her elbows on the console and her chin on her fists. “Enlighten me. You know I’ve been waiting for this.”
I rub at the threatening grin on my lips. “We’re going to drive to my shop first. We need to switch cars before we pick up Alice at the shop where Brooklynn is meeting me with her.”
She blinks at me. “Alice? Brooklynn?”
“Alice is my dog, and she has been staying with Brooklynn, who is my shop assistant and piercer. The shop is closed on Mondays, but she’s waiting for us there.”
“Your dog is named Alice?”
“I didn’t name her that. She was abandoned, her tracking chip cut out of her leg, but she still had a tag on her neck that said Alice. I found her digging through the dumpster near the shop.”
A slow, easy, sexy-as-all-sin smile spreads across her face making her green eyes sparkle against the sunlight filtering in through the windshield. “You really have a thing for helping bitches in distress.”
I let out a soft chuckle, yanking on a piece of her crimson hair. You are deserving, Lenox Moore. Every bit as much as Zax was, if not more. If you love Georgia, which I suspect you do since you look at her like she’s your universe, then don’t let that go simply because you didn’t do right by her once. Don’t stand in your own way when you can have everything.
The way Aurelia’s words are drilling holes through me and filling up the emptiness with hope and possibility is killing me.
“I can’t tell you how excited I am to see your world and you in it, Lenox. It’s like getting unfettered access to Batman’s cave. A perfect example is I didn’t know you had a dog or an assistant named Brooklynn. I still can’t wrap my head around how you’re a mild-mannered business owner by day and a dangerous vigilante by night.”
“You’re mixing comic book heroes.”
She shakes her head. “It’s all part of your mystique, and I get a front-row view. Has any woman other than Suzie ever had this privilege?” Her hand quickly shoots up. “Wait. Never mind. Don’t answer that. I definitely don’t want to know.”
“No,” I answer anyway. “There hasn’t been.”
“Phew!” She wipes the nonexistent sweat from her forehead. “Thank God, right? I may still want to run your balls through the food processor, but I don’t want to hate on a woman I’ve never met before. It’s bad form.”
“And what about for me? I’ve had to hear about your past lovers and am dealing with your most recent ex.”
“Yes, but you don’t possess the weird jealous streak I clearly do.”
If only she knew.
“Go on. Tell me more.”
“Take out your phone and Google Lavender Lake Town Forest.”
She arches a graceful brow at me but immediately picks up her phone and Googles it. “It says it’s a state preserve, swamp, and wetlands and that hiking, camping, fishing, swimming, or boating aren’t permitted in that area.”
“That’s my house.”
“Huh?”
“I own roughly fifteen hundred acres, including seventy percent of Lavender Lake. There is a small public beach with access from closer to town, but there is a divider in the lake and the part I own isn’t accessible. Considering how close we are to the ocean, no one really cares.”
“I’m… confused.”
“The town of Lavender Lake sits between the mountains and the ocean. When I bought the land and built my house, I removed any information about myself from any searchable database. I pay taxes, but the government has no real record of my home or my owning the land.”
“That’s why the paparazzi, Alfie, and Ezra won’t be able to find us there.”
I nod. “Now you’ve got a better understanding of why we pressed for this.” Though there is more I haven’t discussed with her yet. A lot more. “The townspeople more or less know that I live somewhere in there, but none of them bother me and never cross over the divider line in the lake, which would be the only accessible way to get to my house.”
