A Wedded Arrangement (Convenient Marriages, #3)

by Adams, Noelle

  SHE AND LANCE HAD A large room in the luxury resort hotel. It boasted beautiful furniture, a king-size bed, and a large balcony with sweeping mountain views.

  It was late when they finally got up to the room, and Savannah hurried to beat Lance into the bathroom. She washed up, brushed her teeth, and changed into a tank top and cotton pajama pants before she returned to the bedroom.

  Lance was digging for something in his suitcase, but he glanced up when she came out. “You done in there?”

  “Yeah. The shower is yours.”

  She got in bed and fiddled with her phone as she listened to the shower spray, trying not to think about what Lance looked like naked in the shower. Hot water streaming down the tan, freckled skin and the sculpted contours of his shoulders, arms, and abs. She’d managed to settle herself down emotionally after watching him dance with the girl, and she was feeling tired and just slightly unsettled now. She pushed the visuals of Lance in the shower out of her mind—she didn’t need anything else to disturb her tonight.

  He was in the shower for about twenty minutes, and he came out wearing a pair of black sleep pants and nothing else. He smelled like soap. She’d already turned off most of the lights, so she didn’t have the opportunity to leer at his body.

  It was just as well.

  She really shouldn’t be leering right now. Not when they were sharing the same bed.

  They’d shared a bed before. But only when they were traveling together, which wasn’t all that often. They usually did just fine. They respected each other’s privacy and boundaries and had very few uncomfortable moments.

  But she was in a weird mood tonight, and she didn’t trust herself to be this close to him.

  She was determined not to do anything stupid.

  He exhaled deeply as he climbed under the covers, as if he was intentionally relaxing. The sound was thick. Oddly carnal.

  It triggered a hot throb between her legs.

  She shifted positions and tried to break the mood by saying, “That was a long shower.”

  It felt like he was smiling in the dark. “Well, what do you expect after nine months of forced celibacy? It takes some time to jerk off twice in the shower.”

  “Very classy, Carlyle.”

  His head was turned toward her. “Which one bothers you? My jerking off twice or talking about it?”

  “Talking about it. What happens between your dick and your hand is entirely your own business.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I gave myself a very nice time just now, so I’m ready to get some sleep.”

  She groaned and wished they hadn’t started talking about this topic. It was giving her visuals that were making her way too excited. “So do it. Nothing’s stopping you from sleeping but your own obnoxiousness. But just so you know, some of us can sleep without first indulging in a one-man orgy.”

  He was still laughing softly as she rolled over onto her side, facing away from him.

  Maybe it was because the low-level simmering arousal she’d been feeling most of the day hadn’t been satisfied, but it took her a long time to fall asleep. She was acutely aware of Lance sleeping on his back beside her, one of his hands resting on top of the covers between them.

  She felt every move he made. Heard every breath.

  She wanted to roll over and cuddle up against him. She wanted to kiss a line down his chest until she reached the flat expanse of his belly. She wanted to know how he felt beneath her hand. Obviously she resisted the impulse.

  Hopefully she wouldn’t accidentally do anything in her sleep.

  Three

  SHE MANAGED TO SLEEP on her own side of the bed that entire night. It was the following night—after the wedding—that she got into trouble.

  Usually she didn’t sleep deeply when she was in bed with Lance, but she’d had a few glasses of wine at the reception, and they didn’t get to bed until after midnight. So sometime in the wee hours, she fell deeply asleep. She must have been dreaming, although she didn’t remember it.

  The first thing she was aware of upon waking the following morning was the most intense flood of desire she’d ever experienced. Her body throbbed, ached, burned. She was sweating so much her pajamas were sticking to her skin. As consciousness slowly dawned through the haze of sleep, she realized she was rubbing up against something nice and warm and firm. She was also fuzzily aware of a soft, low voice.

  “You’ve got to wake up. Shit, you’re killing me here, Savannah. You’ve got to wake up right now.”

  She liked the sound of that thick voice. She liked the feel of the body halfway beneath her. She liked whatever she was holding in her hand. She gave a little moan of pleasure because she liked it all so much.

  “Oh shit. Oh fuck. Please wake up before I lose it. Savannah.”

  It was the last word. His saying her name almost sharply. She realized who it was.

  Lance.

  And he was begging her to wake up.

  She was suddenly hit with full awareness. She knew where she was and what she was doing. And who she was doing it to.

  She gasped and jerked away from him. Her hand had been at his groin, wrapped around a full erection through the soft, thin fabric of his sleep pants. She released him as she rolled away and sat up, arousal still pulsing painfully between her legs. “I’m sorry. Oh God. What am I doing?”

  He groaned in naked relief and pushed himself up to a sitting position. His hair was a mess, and his cheeks were flushed. His skin had broken out with a sheen of perspiration, but his voice was light and familiar as he said, “You were evidently having a very good dream. I had a hard time waking you up.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her blush burned her cheeks and went all the way down to her chest. “You should have woken me up earlier, before it got to that point.”

  His eyes slanted up at her face with quick scrutiny, but his mouth twitched with dry amusement. “I was asleep too. The first thing I knew, I was hard as a rock and you were using my body as your personal sex toy.”

  She sucked in an indignant breath. “I was asleep. I never would have—”

  “You think I don’t know that?” For the first time he looked almost annoyed. “I know perfectly well you’d never deign to touch me if you weren’t completely unaware of doing so. It’s no big deal. I’ve had morning wood many times before.”

  That had been more than a normal morning erection. She’d been rubbing up against him all over. She’d had her hand wrapped around him. She wondered if it were possible to literally melt from mortification.

  He added in a teasing tone that was almost gentle, “I’ll just count it toward the mountain of the sexual suffering I’ve experienced since I married you.”

  She didn’t want him to be gentle. It wasn’t like him. It made her even more upset and embarrassed.

  And what was worse was that she was still struggling with the desire to crawl back over to him, press her body against his, feel him all over again.

  He stood with a soft moan, his expression twisting in obvious discomfort. He reached down and adjusted his erection as he straightened. It was obviously an automatic gesture, but it drew her attention to that part of his body. She could see the shape of him beneath the fabric, and she really liked the looks of it. She couldn’t seem to help it.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, pushing a hand through his tangled curls, “unless you need to get in there first.”

  “No, go ahead.” She did need to pee, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable at the moment, and she needed to be alone to pull herself together.

  He limped into the bathroom, and she heard the shower turn on almost immediately. She listened to the muffled sound of the spray, trying not to imagine how he looked in there, all naked and aroused. She knew what he was doing, but she tried not to see it in her mind.

  She really shouldn’t be visualizing it.

  Flopping back down on the bed, she could no longer resist the impulse. She slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her pajamas and rubbed
her clit in a fast, urgent circular motion. It only took her a couple of minutes to come because she was already so aroused.

  Afterward, she stared up at the ceiling and panted until her breathing returned to normal.

  She felt as embarrassed as a teenager at her own body. It clearly wanted Lance in a way the rest of her didn’t.

  And she was having no success in getting her body to change its mind.

  THEY DROVE BACK TO Green Valley later that morning, and the trip was quiet and uncomfortable. She tried—she really did—to respond to him with her normal, easy banter, but she couldn’t muster the energy or will.

  It wasn’t any better the following day, so she did her best to avoid him. She got going earlier than normal—while he was still working out—and then she spent the evening with her parents so she wouldn’t run into him around the condo.

  They didn’t normally have meals or hang out together at home—they always did their own thing. But it was impossible not to see each other fairly regularly as they were living under the same roof, and she needed distance right now.

  She did the same thing for the following two days, until trying to avoid him was becoming a habit for her. It wasn’t any fun, but it was safer than running into him and then maybe doing or saying something stupid.

  But she slipped up on Thursday morning. She overslept and so wasn’t dressed and out the door before seven fifteen, which was when he usually came back from his workout and run.

  It upset her unduly. She raced through her shower and threw on jeans and a sweater. She was in the process of filling a travel mug with coffee when she heard the front door open.

  Lance was panting and sweating like normal. He strode toward the kitchen and came to a sudden stop when he realized she was still there.

  He froze, his eyes raking over her face and body with a strange, searching urgency before the corner of his mouth turned up. “Ah. Didn’t get out of here soon enough, did you?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Leave it to Lance to get her defensive in less than fifteen seconds.

  “You know exactly what it means. You’ve been avoiding me for three days now.”

  “I have not.” She had no idea why she was bothering to lie, but she was. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Uh-huh. You’ve been busy from seven in the morning to nine o’clock at night all week.” He went over to the counter, grabbed a couple of paper towels, and wiped his damp face. “You’re really expecting me to buy that?”

  “I’m not expecting you to buy anything. What I do isn’t your business.”

  “Then why go out of your way to avoid me? Aren’t you tired yet of hiding all day long?”

  The truth was she was exhausted. Lance’s condo wasn’t her home, but it was as close as she had to one right now except her parents’ house. And spending all evening with her parents wasn’t exactly the most relaxing of scenarios. She really wanted to come home at a normal time and spend the evening in the condo like she used to.

  She didn’t know what to say though, so she didn’t say anything.

  “What’s the problem, Savannah? So you had a sexy dream and groped me a little. Who the hell cares about that? Do you really think I’m gonna get uptight about something so minor?”

  “No. I don’t think you’d get uptight about anything.”

  “Then what is it?” His tone had been casual before, but it wasn’t so much anymore. “I caught you with your vibrator, and you just shrugged it off. How is this worse than that?”

  The answer to his question was that he was actively involved this time rather than being a brief observer. And maybe she felt a little different about him now than she had a few months ago.

  But she couldn’t tell him either of those things without revealing far too much. She swallowed and clenched her hand around the travel mug she still held.

  “Savannah?” He wasn’t light and teasing anymore. He was almost urgent—something he never was.

  She had to give him an answer. He wasn’t going to let this go. She blew out a breath and said, “I’m just embarrassed.”

  “I know that much, but I still don’t understand why.”

  She rolled her eyes, for the first time feeling more like herself. “Only a smug, clueless asshole wouldn’t understand why I might be embarrassed. I had your dick in my hand.”

  He gave a huff of amusement, his mouth relaxing. “Uh, yeah, I vividly remember that little fact. But you were asleep. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. And believe it or not, my dick isn’t so sacrosanct that mountains fall and oceans dry up because it accidentally gets touched.”

  Laughter threatened to spill out of her. She barely managed to control herself enough to quip back. “If that’s true, then why do you possess and worship a sacred symbol of your penis in the form of that ridiculous car?”

  Lance laughed openly, his hazel eyes deliciously warm, and she couldn’t hold back her amusement anymore. She sipped her coffee as she giggled, the tension in her chest finally loosening for the first time since Sunday morning.

  “So you’ll stop hiding?” he asked, glancing away almost self-consciously.

  “I wasn’t hiding.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I was just taking a much-needed break from your obnoxiousness.”

  “But your break is over now?”

  “Yes, it’s over now.”

  “You’ll be around this evening?”

  “Yes. Why? Do you need me to do something with you?”

  “No. No. Not until that dinner on Saturday.”

  “Okay.” She stared at him, shifting from foot to foot and wondering why she was suddenly nervous. “I better get going. I do have an early appointment this morning.”

  He was finally moving to the refrigerator to get some water. “See you later then.”

  She grabbed her bag and left, feeling a lot better than she had since she’d gone to bed on Saturday.

  SHE GOT IN JUST BEFORE five that afternoon and took a long shower, then changed into yoga pants and a loose V-neck top. It was nice being home on her own for a while, with nothing more pressing to do than watch TV and run some laundry.

  Lance usually got home on weekdays anytime between five and seven. Sometimes he went back out to have dinner or hang out with his friends, but not all the time.

  It was a little after six when she heard the front door open.

  “You here?” he called out.

  He wasn’t in the habit of asking for her whereabouts when he returned from work, but she figured he was just verifying that their conversation that morning had addressed the awkwardness.

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  He appeared around the corner of the entryway, wearing one of his business suits and carrying a large bag of take-out containers. He gave her a little smile when he saw her. “I’ve got Marco’s if you want any.”

  She straightened up, her eyes widening. “You got Marco’s? Why?”

  Marco’s was her favorite restaurant, an Italian place about half an hour away from Green Valley. Lance had no way of knowing that Marco’s was her favorite, but it was popular and she wasn’t surprised he’d get food there. She just didn’t know why he would have made such a long trip out of town for takeout.

  Lance gave a half shrug. “I had a meeting with a client in Charlotte, so I grabbed something on my way back. If you’ve already eaten, it’ll save.”

  “I haven’t eaten.” Now that there was a reasonable explanation for the surprise food, she was excited about it. She got up and hurried over to start digging into the bag.

  Oh my God. He’d gotten two different pasta dishes. Plus her favorite flatbread. Plus two side salads. Plus two pieces of coconut cream cake.

  “God, Carlyle. You got enough food for an army.”

  “Just pick out what you want, and we can save whatever’s left over.” He’d taken off his shoes at the door and was now shrugging out of his suit jacket and pulling his tie loose. “Hopefully there’s something in there you like
.”

  For someone who didn’t know her favorites, he sure had done a good job of picking the food. Maybe he’d noticed what she’d ordered from Marco’s in the past, but it wasn’t likely he’d remember trivial details. No, he’d probably gotten what he liked himself, and it luckily matched with her preferences.

  While she was debating the options, he wandered into the wine closet and came out with a bottle of cabernet. Yes, he had a whole wine closet. It was another thing rich people of Green Valley had that normal people like her wouldn’t have dreamed of.

  “You want some of this?” he asked, pulling down two wineglasses from a shelf.

  “Sure.” The half-hour drive had necessitated some warming up of the food, so she put the flatbread in the oven and zapped the pasta just enough to get it hot again.

  Lance had set her glass of wine and one of the side salads at her normal seat at the island, so she sat down there when her plate was ready. A minute or two later, he sat beside her with a couple of pieces of flatbread and the pasta she hadn’t chosen.

  She figured his generosity in bringing home Marco’s deserved some polite conversation, so she asked, “How was your meeting?”

  He blinked. “What meeting?”

  “The one in Charlotte you had today.”

  “Oh. Yeah. It was fine. Just an interest meeting. I’m not sure if they’re going to work with me or not.”

  “What’s the company? Some Fortune 500 getting sued because they cheated investors out of their life savings?” She was teasing in their normal manner, so she was surprised by his reaction.

  “No.” He frowned, a forkful of salad poised in front of his mouth.

  “I was just joking.”

  “I don’t take jobs like that. You don’t think I do, do you?”

  “N-no.” The truth was she had assumed he would take a job like that. She figured that came with the territory in corporate consulting. Businesses did dirty dealings all the time, and consultants would have to factor that into their work.

  “That’s what my dad did. I won’t work with a business that does that.”