HisMarriageBargain (7 page)

In a minute.

Or maybe not.

Clitoral Hood Piercing—Because the clitoris is too small
to pierce in most women, the popular alternative is the clitoral hood. It can
be placed either vertically or horizontally.

Autumn woke for what must have been the tenth time that
night. The clouds on the horizon were a soft gray, heralding the sunrise. She
rolled over, careful to do so without jostling the bed too much.

Sammi slept like a rock. She’d roused him enough to get his
help stripping off the shirt and pants he’d been wearing for the wedding, but
there was no keeping him awake after that. Whatever was going on with him health-wise,
she hoped sleep helped.

He lay on his side facing her, one arm curled under the
pillow crammed against his neck and the other flopped toward her. The sheet was
down around his waist, displaying the hip-to-shoulder tattoo she’d finished a
month ago. It was mostly black—yuck—swirling, curling baroque-style designs
with little details woven through that tied back into his family. As much as
she hated working in black and gray, Autumn had to admit it was her best
monochromatic tattoo to date. They’d left off discussing his ink with tossing
around ideas for the rest of his back, but it seemed that he wasn’t interested
in hearing about her ideas for color.

It was crazy to think she was married.

To Sammi.

Her best friend.

What happened now?

Autumn wasn’t good at thinking things through. She leapt
before she thought. It was her natural state of being, but it had also burned
her more than a few times. She wasn’t about to change the decisions that led
her to marry him for the world, but maybe she could have asked a few more
questions.

Sammi drew in a deep breath and his face scrunched up. He
rubbed his hand through his hair and blinked into the dimness.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hm, hi.” He reached his hand toward her and brushed a lock
of hair from her face.

Damn. Even his touch made her want to sigh.

“I fell asleep on you, didn’t I?” he mumbled.

“Yeah, but you needed it.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” He resituated the pillows and closed his eyes.

How had they gone from friend territory to him making her
weak in the knees?

Oh right. She’d married him. That’s what happened.

Autumn sighed and pushed the sheet off. It wasn’t as if they
needed it. The weather here was perfect, if humid enough to feel as if she were
breathing underwater.

Sammi grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” She eased back against the pillows and scooted
toward Sammi. “How are you feeling?”

“Groggy as fuck.” He ran his hand up and down her arm and
she melted a little more.

“Need anything?”

Sammi wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her across
to him. Autumn laughed and squirmed, but he was all muscle and rogue strength.
He tossed a leg over Autumn’s and settled her against him. It wasn’t the first
time they’d cuddled, but things had been different then. She hadn’t been
married to him and had known it wouldn’t, couldn’t, go further. Now all bets
were off. Her heart did a painful flip-flop.

What did she expect from this relationship?

A broken heart.

Because he was dying.

Autumn clutched him and buried her face against his
shoulder. It was so easy to forget what was coming because the now was so
overwhelming. He’d married her to enjoy the moments he had left. So she’d make
sure he enjoyed them all, whatever it took.

Sammi rested his cheek against Autumn’s head and inhaled her
fragrance. It was spicy and floral, something unique he’d never smelled before
meeting her. The scent got on anything she touched. Shirts. Jackets. Blankets.
Hell, even his car on the rare occasion he drove her anywhere.

Autumn’s thigh slid up between his legs. He didn’t know if
the movement was intentional or not, but his morning wood was about to pose a
problem.

Her foot slid up and down his calf, her fingers curling into
his shoulder.

He didn’t know what she wore to bed, but he could feel
fabric and, under that, her bare breasts brushing against him. It was a special
kind of torture. He’d intentionally forbidden himself from thinking about her
boobs. How round, perky and firm they were. She had some of the best cleavage.

Autumn wiggled closer, rubbing his dick with her hip.

Sammi groaned and clenched her tighter. “What do you think
you’re doing?”

She tipped her chin up and smiled. Her dimples winked at
him, giving her a mischievous air. “Getting into trouble.”

“I couldn’t tell.”

Her bottom lip slid out into a picture-perfect pout. He
snorted, which turned into a surprised gasp as her hand wrapped around his cock
through the boxers.

“Autumn…” he groaned.

“What?” There was that mischievousness again.

Sammi grasped her wrist and pulled her hand up to his chest.
He wasn’t going to go down that road. He wouldn’t take advantage of her like
that. They shouldn’t even be sleeping in the same bed. One of the reasons for
the suite was its dual luxurious bedrooms.

She propped her head up on her palm and studied him,
suddenly very serious.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“About us.”

“Yeah?” Was she having second thoughts?

“We never talked about how this is going to work.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I mean legally we’re married but what are we
really? Am I your wife, your friend with benefits, live-in best friend or
what?”

“You’re my wife.” Had they made such a huge disconnect that
she missed that little fact?

When he’d hatched this plan it had been to get married in
name only. He’d told himself he could handle her being with other men, as long
as she lived with him and he had first call on her time. Now that it came down
to articulating those thoughts, everything in him revolted at the idea of
another man touching his wife.

Autumn was his.

She leaned toward him until they touched from shoulder to
hip, her gaze searching his face, looking for something there he couldn’t help
her discover. Whatever it was, he hoped she found it, that he was the man who
met the standard. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, rubbing her palm
along the stubble then up into his hair.

“Good. If I’m your wife I don’t want to hear any more of
this ‘it’s for money’ business, okay?”

“I’m just being honest.”

Autumn rolled her eyes and leaned in until their noses
touched. “No, you’re pretending to be a saint. And honestly?”

“What?”

Her lips were so close. He could feel the caress of her
breath. It was distracting, in the best manner possible. She chuckled and pressed
a lingering kiss to his cheek, a hairsbreadth from his lips. He found himself
clutching her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her tight.

“You’re a much better sinner.”

Sammi wanted to fuck her. He wanted her to ride his cock,
her breasts bouncing and her pussy hugging him.

No.

Not going down that path.

“Autumn—”

She kissed him full on the mouth.

Their second kiss.

The first had knocked his world off its axis and this
changed the climate.

He tore his mouth away on will alone.

“Autumn, no. Stop.”

“What? Why?” She leaned away from him, her brow furrowed.

“Because…” All the good reasons had fled him.

“Sammi, let’s be reasonable.” She stroked his chest while
appearing the most serious he’d ever seen her. “I’m not the cheating kind and I
won’t look the other way for you to have someone else in your bed. I’m not too
keen on having a pretend husband. I want a real one, and I mean that in every
sense of the word. Besides, unless I’m wrong, the last girl you had sex with
sucked. Do you really want to die with your last fuck being horrible?”

His mouth was dry and his balls ached. Despite the absurdity
of the situation, he laughed.

“I just…” Sammi licked his lips and tried again. “I just
don’t want to ruin our friendship. I might be in a wheelchair next week. I
might not be able to have sex in a month.”

Autumn shrugged. “So we make it work. My point is I married
you. All of you.”

It was as if the world rotated a little to the right and
spun the wrong direction in that moment.

He’d always been attracted to her. She was beautiful and
talented and vibrant. But she’d always been off-limits. As his wife though,
everything changed.

“Are you sure?” he asked. When was the last time he
double-checked with a woman to ensure she wanted him? A decade at least.

Autumn snuggled in close, a small smile on her face. “I
married you. I’m not entirely sane, duh.”

“Point taken.” He kissed her forehead and it felt right.
Genuine affection.

“How about some breakfast? Hungry yet?”

“Starved.” And maybe a little space would give him some
better perspective. “I’ll call room service.”

“I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.” She wiggled
away from him and stood, stretching her hands toward the ceiling.

* * * * *

Sammi picked up the heavily laden trays of food from the room
service cart and carried them out onto the balcony. Autumn had opened all the
doors to the outside after her shower and declared that she would only eat out
there.

The balcony ran the length of their suite and was walled off
from their neighbors’ for privacy. It was wide enough for an entire set of
furniture—an L-shaped wicker couch, two armchairs and an ottoman. Autumn lay on
the couch, her hair spread out to dry with large sunglasses covering most of
her face. Since she’d bolted past him onto the balcony after her shower he’d
only gotten the impression of her wrapped in flowing fabric. Now he saw that
she’d worn some kind of transparent beach cover-up over a bikini. A very small
bikini he couldn’t recall seeing before.

“Breakfast is served.” He lifted the metal cloche from the
food and stared.

That was not what he’d expected.

On one side of the tray was the omelet with turkey bacon, as
he’d requested, on the other were pancakes with fruit topping. In the middle
sat a small, orange cake with white swirling designs painted on it. It even had
a little miniature topper of two rings.

“They were going to bring it out last night, but there
wouldn’t have been enough for everyone so I asked them to hold it. Surprise.”
Autumn wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

Sammi didn’t know what to say. The surprises, they just kept
coming. He squeezed her arm and shook his head.

“I’m hungry,” she announced and reached past him for her
breakfast.

Sammi took his meal to the couch where he balanced it on his
knee and began cutting the omelet into smaller bites. Usually he only had these
when he had breakfast with his mother, always accompanied by her special blend
of tea. It was disgusting but on the few occasions he’d tried to refuse she’d
guilted him into drinking several cups instead of just one or two.

“What do you want to do today?” Autumn asked between bites.

“I don’t know. We could take a boat tour, hit up the shops,
go lay out on the beach—”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to get a massage?”

“We can do that too.”

“I’m not about to say no to a massage, but you said
yesterday it might help.” She chewed another bite of the fluffy pancakes.

He peered at her pancakes. “Why don’t you use the syrup?”

Autumn shuddered and her lips compressed into a tight line.
“No.”

“What’s wrong with syrup?”

“I like my pancakes dry, maybe with some fruit.” She reached
for a glass of milk and downed half of it.

Now he wanted to know. Sammi turned toward Autumn and
studied her. “Are you allergic?”

“Nope.”

“Is it a consistency thing?”

“No.”

“What about—”

Autumn dropped the fork on her plate with a
clink
and
spoke in a rush. “My mom used to crush up horse pills and put them in maple
syrup when I was sick because she could steal them from across the street
instead of going to buy human medicine.” Her cheeks were bright pink.

That was not anything he’d expected to hear.

Autumn pulled her hair over her shoulder and stared at her
plate. She pushed the pancake around but didn’t take a bite.

“Horse pills?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah. Horse pills.”

“Like big pills, or pills actually for horses.”

“Pills actually for horses.”

Autumn had never talked about her roots, and he realized
belatedly that he didn’t know anything about her history except that she was a
self-starter, motivated and kind. Sure, he knew that financially they were
different, but he’d assumed she came from a middle-class family.

“Sorry, I didn’t know.” It was the only thing he could think
of to say.

She shrugged. “How could you?”

Maybe Autumn’s mother had been so bad off the horse meds
were the only thing she could give her kid. He wanted to believe Autumn’s
mother had her best interests at heart and that it wasn’t as horrific as it
sounded. But her silence was telling. Whatever Autumn’s history was, it was
darker than he’d realized.

But he was here now, and she’d never have to take horse
pills again.

“I’ll remember to ask them to leave the syrup off next
time.”

They ate in strained silence for a few minutes. Waves
hitting the shore, birds and the comings and goings of humans created the
soundtrack to the day, punctuated by silverware scraping across plates.

He finished his omelet and placed the plate back on the
tray. Autumn was quick to follow his lead, leaving behind a half-uneaten
breakfast. She moved as if to leave, but he caught her arm and pulled her back.
Autumn relaxed against him, leaning back so he could hug her from behind.