Chapter Four
Istand on the deck listening to the waves crash on the beach in the dark, but the whiskey in my veins and cool ocean breeze are doing nothing to clear my head.
Because it’s not that head I want cleared.
I shouldn’t have made the deal. It did nothing for me financially; actually, it put me in the negative. But I’d just lost my father and Mr. Hart’s situation pulled on my heartstrings.
It also offered me a solution.
After my father’s death, every gold digger came my way—including my stepmother. I didn’t have time to determine who was genuine while working out how to navigate the business I’d inherited.
An arranged marriage, to a woman I had no romantic interest in, solved that issue.
Well, it was supposed to. Now, instead of going over renovation and marketing campaigns for the resort, all my attention is focused on emptying my balls inside the woman playing bride.
I’m supposed to be the one doing the seducing, not the other way around.
And the worst part is she’s not even trying—blurting out embarrassing shit without thinking. She’s too adorable.
She did not want to be the one walking down the aisle, and she does not want to be here—in her head—but those tight little nipple she can’t hide tells me otherwise.
She wants me, but I need to know why she is here instead of Eloise.
I check my phone to find a message from my private investigator. Eloise is in Puerto Rico. For a job interview. She has a ticket booked to you in five days.
So, Charlotte is doing her sister a favor and standing in as the bride.
That’s actually really sweet but unnecessary. Why didn’t they say something?
Probably because they already had it in their heads that I was an old perv. They likely thought I’d shelve the whole deal if Eloise went to a job interview over her wedding.
I chuckle at the thought, remembering Charlotte’s faux pas in the church garden.
I wish they’d told me. We could have changed the wedding date.
Or the intended bride.
My dick salutes that decision.
But it’s pretty clear Charlotte dislikes me and this entire arrangement, so I doubt switching brides would have been on the table.
Eloise can finish her interview, and when she gets back we can go through the motions of setting up our business relationship as I’d intended.
But with Charlotte, business is the last thing I want to discuss.
I look to the end of the deck and the darkened bedroom window and sip my whiskey.
Watching. Contemplating. Fuck it.
I gulp the rest, lightly place the empty glass on the table, and slowly step toward the window. The blue curtains are only partially closed, leaving a strip wide enough for me to spy inside.
She’s lying on the bed, hair spilling over the pillows, curves hidden beneath blankets.
Moonlight is the only source of light, but it’s enough to see slight movement beneath the blanket.
A spike of panic has me slipping further into the shadows, but I’m still close enough to see into her room.
The blanket moves again, faster and more rhythmically.
My chest squeezes, heart stopping for a split second as I realize what is happening. She’s touching herself.
I bite my fist to hold in the groan, but there’s no way to stop the hot pulse of lust filling my cock or the trickle of precum leaking from the head. I shouldn’t invade her privacy like this.
I step to the side until my back presses against the wall.
I suck in one breath after another.
I tell myself to go inside and sleep on the couch.
Instead, I peer through the window again and slowly unhook my belt from the buckle.
The blanket tents as she lifts her knees, but I can still see the steady movement between them. Is she thinking about me?
Her thighs opened so easily when I laid her on the bed, and her pussy was hot enough that I could feel it through my pants.
I gnaw my bottom lip between my teeth and drag my zipper down.
Would she have let me unzip them, push her panties to the side, and slide my cock between her lips?
I push my hand beneath my briefs and grip the base of my erection.
How soaked are her fingers right now?
Wet enough to take me in one thrust?
I twist my fist and slide it up, pulling that aching hunger to the tip of my cock and swiping the precum with my thumb.
The blanket lifts, her hips arching. Is she close?
I push my fist down and back up, working my cock in a quick pace to catch up to her. The slap of skin on skin is so loud I worry she might hear, but not enough to stop.
The blanket falls around her knees, like she’s pressing them together, and she shudders.
Two more pumps and my balls contract, heat and desire pulsing up my shaft and spilling all over the window.
I slump against the wall again, panting and spent.
It’s going to be an interesting five days.