Karessa sighs when I glide inside of her again. My tongue traces her pouty lips until she sucks on it.
“I choose you for my wife and will happily stay married to you for the rest of my life. We had the wedding, but let me give you the proposal you deserve.”
Tears glitter in her eyes and her legs wrap around my waist, securing me tightly to her body. She laces her fingers in my hair and kisses me softly. Her eyes roll back as she cums. I nibble on her chin as I fill her with my release. Her fingers trace my features as if she’s in awe of me.
“You just did. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“But I’ll give you everything you want.”
“You are more than enough, Oran Hale.”
I smile at her with no restraint. “You’ve changed my life, Trophy. Thank you.”
“Promise me something, Oran.”
“What’s that?”
“Never bet our kids in a poker game.”
I laugh and pull her to my side. “No need, no matter the gender of our baby, there will be a little Hanlon waiting for it.”
She rolls her eyes heavenward. “How could I ever forget the greatest love affair of all? You and Jagger.”
My bark of laughter rings out into the room. I didn’t expect her to say that. “Does that mean we’re cheating on each other with our wives?”
She scrunches her face as she thinks. “Sounds like an open relationship. Cheating would require sneaking around.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Good point. I got you something.” Opening the bedside drawer, I grab the paperwork sitting on top. “First, thank you for believing in me and loving me.”
Karessa gives me a lingering kiss and moves to a sitting position. I sit up as well and pass her the paper. Confusion tugs at her features, and she looks at me.
“It’s a copy of our prenup.” I hold up a finger, grab and red pen, write on it, and give it back. “Void?” She reads it like a question.
“Congratulations, you’re here at your own will.”
“H-How?” She chews her lip like she’s trying to understand.
“This prenup was a contract made between the head of the LeClaire family and the Hale family. Who’s the head of the Hale family, Trophy?”
“You.”
“That’s right.” I take the paper from her and rip it in half. “I told you in the beginning, these aren’t my terms.” She attacks me with kisses then climbs off the bed. “Where are you going?”
“To pack. I’m a free woman,” she jokes.
Jumping off the bed, smack her ass and pull her close. “You’re forgetting the moment you jumped on my dick you accepted my terms and conditions.” I kiss along her neck and shoulder - I had to retrain her that my kisses are the only ones she needs to remember - then give her a reminder. “You’re stuck with me for life. Get your ass back in bed.”
“It was worth a try,” she teases and turns in my arms to hug me. “Besides, I don’t want to have to put out a hit on every woman you’d try to date.”
“I’m about to revoke yours and Esme’s access to the Bishops.”
“No can do, we’re godparents and you’ll die without your Jagger fix.”
“Shut it and get back in bed. I’ve added some new classes to the roster.”
Her eyes spark with fresh arousal. “Bring it, Hell.”
About the Author
Francesca Penn lives in Texas with her husband and son. While obtaining her Technical Writing degree, a creative writing course and play-writing elective reawakened her desire to create stories. Her brain lives in fiction; even the songs she listens to become music videos in her head.
When she is not writing, she can be found hounding her loved ones with multiple “What-if” scenarios. As a true closet romantic, she is prone to filling up her DVR with Hallmark movies. A friend once told her that she’d trained the whole 20 plus years she’d known her to write romance since her nose was always in a love story.
Francesca believes that love is colorblind and plans to provide a mix of couples of different races and ethnicities because – to her – men are like Skittles, and we all know their motto.
Hale on Earth (Arrangement Series Book 2) Page 21
