Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Autumn
Gideon had gotten a message from his dad that the celebration would start at five.
He’d worked at the table all day. I had texted Mark that I’d gotten married in Vegas and would bring in my documents to change everything with HR.
Messaging my friends was next. Then I’d shut down my phone.
I’d continue dealing with my family’s reaction later; my coworkers would have to wait.
It was almost four. We’d have to go to Hank’s party soon. I’d suggested arriving early to help his dad and put on a good show of being happy newlyweds. My nerves were a lump in my stomach.
I gently prodded Sprinkles off my lap and rose. I’d spent the day working on lesson plans only because I felt guilty reading while he was working.
I was sneaking behind Gideon when he pushed back the chair and faced me. The force of his gaze sent shivers whispering over my skin.
“My lawyer has the documents prepared. You can read through them and sign.”
I glanced from him to his laptop screen. There was a document-signing program up with a bold yellow button on it.
“This is the postnup,” he explained. “Then you can read through the divorce papers, but you don’t need to sign them now.”
“That was fast,” I muttered. I’d had the day off, but his legal team hadn’t.
“I don’t pay my legal team to drag their feet.”
Well. I slid into the seat. He crossed his arms and loomed over me. I’d been exposed to a fair number of contracts through Copper Summit, but always through our lawyers first. I scanned over our information. “Don’t you need my property information?”
“I told him all it needed to say is that anything that was ours before marriage is ours after and anything we make or produce or come into ownership of while married belongs to whoever received it.”
Meaning I’d have no claim over Percival Farms. I was fine with that.
I’d expected pages and pages of documents, but in the end, it was simple.
Gideon didn’t want me to get anything that was his, and he couldn’t claim anything that was mine.
He had more to lose when we divorced. But he might not have Percival when we divorced.
I went through the clicks to sign the document.
He leaned over me, his scent washing over me, and clicked on another tab. Divorce papers. He stepped back and took his heat with him.
A chill sank into my bones as I read over more legal jargon. “There’s nothing in here about children.”
“We can cross that bridge when we know there’s a river. If you’d like more time to look them over, I can send a copy in an email.”
I let him dismiss the kid topic. For now. “No. That’s fine. You can send them when it’s time to . . . file.”
“We need to get going,” he said softly.
I gladly escaped to the bedroom. I changed into a long-sleeved dress with my trusty leggings underneath. I might’ve picked another pair of rust-colored bottoms because of my new nickname and not just because they looked really good with the blue designs in my favorite pair of cowboy boots.
My heart skipped a beat when I caught Gideon eyeing my legs on our way out the door. But during the drive, his expression returned to his normal smolder. It was his standard CEO look and not a special heat just for me.
We’re going to have to be intimate soon.
He would live up to his end of the deal. Neither of us knew if we’d get what we wanted, but we were willing to try.
Was that what I wanted?
Gideon, yes. His perfunctory compliance? No.
I was in over my head.
I was almost glad I had tonight to take my mind off physical activities with Gideon and what he’d think of me.
I was rusty. I’d never been a firecracker about a damn thing in my life. I didn’t even light them off.
He turned off the main gravel road that led to the long, winding road to his dad’s place. I frowned and peered out the window. I wasn’t familiar with their land, but this road was narrower and bumpier. It was little more than a dirt path with two wheel tracks.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’re going to pick a hole in those leggings.”
I glanced down to where my hand was scratching at the seam on the side of my thigh. “I’m nervous.”
“I know. You about jumped outta your boots when I put my hand on the small of your back yesterday.”
Did he realize how casual he sounded? Did he get more relaxed with increased pressure? Figured.
The road went through a scattering of trees. There was a short approach that led to a wire fence. He stopped, turned around, and parked with the car facing in the direction we’d come from.
“I can do some breathing exercises.” I closed my eyes and inhaled—one, two, three.
His heat crowded me before I heard the click of his seat belt and then mine. His fingertips touched my jaw and tilted my face toward him. “I have a better idea.”
His mouth landed on mine.
Stunned, I quit picking at my leggings and kissed him back.
I twined a hand around the back of his neck.
The short prickles of his tightly trimmed hair tickled my palm.
His lips were soft but unyielding. I clutched his shoulder with my other hand, fisting my fingers in the material of his expensive polo shirt.
A whimper left me and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside. I was twisted in my seat and so was he. The console was between us, but we were wrapped up in each other.
He cupped my face, his long fingers in my hair. His tongue had my sole focus. Where’d this guy learn how to kiss? I never thought about my kissing ability. No complaints meant it was good enough, but Gideon was robbing me of breath. I was running a marathon while he was on a leisurely stroll.
He broke the kiss, only to nibble a path across my jaw. “You taste like sunshine and candy.”
I tipped my head back as he kissed a path down my neck. My eyes fluttered open when he bunched up the hem of my dress.
I jerked when warm fingers touched my abdomen. This wasn’t my best position. I had a belly and hips. Curvy might be in, but those curves also formed rolls when sitting like this. I wasn’t splayed across a settee like a Renaissance model.
A disapproving growl came from him. He brushed his hand up my side to skim underneath my bra, then he cupped a breast over the material. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
He kissed up my neck and nibbled my earlobe. A shiver rippled its way down my body as he worked his wicked fingers under the cup of my bra.
Oh god. How could getting to second base blow away any other experience I’d had?
“Gideon?” I whispered, but I didn’t know what I was asking for.
My breast was free of the material and he stroked my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. In the time since he’d put his mouth on me, a direct connection between my boob and my pussy had formed. A steady thrum pulsed between my thighs, growing stronger and more demanding.
He claimed my mouth again, and again, I whimpered. I stuffed my hands in his hair and held on for dear life. He kissed me senseless. There was no part of my mouth he didn’t explore with his tongue. I was his to devour.
When he pulled away, I let out a needy moan and blinked. I should be embarrassed, but damn. Why’d he quit?
He removed his hand and gently tugged my bra cup back into place. Then he smoothed my dress down. Humiliation was creeping up into my stunned brain. Except for some ruffled hair, he appeared unbothered. How could he kiss like that and just . . . stop?
He slid his hand around my neck and stroked my jaw with his thumb. “What’s going on in that sharp mind of yours?”
I’d take the compliments where I found them. “You just stopped.”
“We have a celebration dinner to get to.”
“Right.”
Our faces were inches apart, and he studied me. “This isn’t a comfortable place to fuck, but don’t delude yourself. If we kept going, that is exactly what I would be doing to you right now.”
My legs quivered. “Really?”
He leaned in even closer, his breath wafting over my cheek. “I’m dying to know if you taste like cotton candy everywhere.”
I groaned. The sounds this man could get me to make. I was a proud hussy.
He claimed my mouth once more for a sensual kiss. “Now, when I touch you, you won’t fucking flinch.”
He reached over me and buckled me in. He was so efficient I wasn’t sure I believed him about losing control if we continued. But before he took care of his own seat belt, he adjusted the giant bulge in his jeans.
He glanced over. I lifted my gaze to his, and I saw it. The incinerating arousal he kept a tight rein on. A tiny flicker in the green mask of his irises.
He looked away and calmly put the car in drive. We bumped back down the road to celebrate our wedding.
What would happen if I coaxed that spark into an inferno?
Gideon
When we arrived at the house, my raging erection finally redirected blood to my brain.
The stop had been necessary. My reasoning was practical.
It had nothing to do with how hard it’d been not to roll her over and plunge into her when I woke up with her soft body pressed against mine.
It had nothing to do with seeing her ass cheeks bounce in her pajama pants.
She hadn’t been wearing underwear and thank fucking god she hadn’t realized how see-through the thin material was.
Creamy, white butt cheeks that would be perfect to hold on to.
I was getting a hard-on again, only this time I was surrounded by Baileys.
But all I had to do to get rid of it was remember her studying and then signing the postnup.
The woman knew what she wanted and my wealth wasn’t it.
My respect for her grew. But then I’d pulled up the divorce papers and I’d gone cold. I’d wanted to shut the laptop.
Those papers marked the end. Wasn’t that what I wanted? An end to the sale. An end to the need for this ruse. A halt to the talk about kids and everything a divorce would mean on that front.
I could say for certain that I wanted an end to this damn dinner.
We weren’t in the house. I hadn’t gone in since we’d arrived. I hadn’t been in that place since I’d left after graduation.