Some Like It Charming (A Temporary Engagement)

by Megan Bryce

  Mackenzie thought about his mother inviting that red-headed vixen to pick out her engagement ring and murmured, “Okay.”

  He moved his lips a smidgen closer. “Mm-hm. I was looking more for ‘God, yes’ or ‘what took you so long’.”

  She found some spare air in her lungs and said, “Okay is all you’re going to get.”

  He ran his hand down her hip. “Is that so?”

  She nodded and he smiled. He laid his lips against hers and whispered, “Ethan. God. Yes.”

  She looked at him out of lidded eyes and whispered back, “It’s never going to happen.”

  She rose onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and opened her mouth. He groaned and kissed her, his tongue coming out to play.

  His hands slid up her shirt and he said, “Aren’t you tired of fighting it, yet?”

  Oh, she was. Tired of her stomach flopping every time he got near. Tired of his cologne turning her panties into one big, wet puddle. Tired of being the only person trying to keep their relationship not a relationship.

  But she said, “I live to fight.”

  Ethan ran his tongue up her ear. “Don’t I know it. I’ve been imagining you fighting beneath me for weeks.”

  Weeks? It felt like years since she’d moved in with him. She said, “Who says I’d be beneath you?”

  He grabbed the back of her thighs, lifting her and pinning her against the door. “I remember. You like to be on top.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, felt his hands cup her butt, felt her control slipping. She tilted her head back, stared holes into the ceiling, and tried to talk some sense into herself. He was Ethan Howell O’Connor. He was a celebrity playboy. He dated models and debutantes. He was too handsome, too charming.

  He was a charming rat bastard. The kind of man she hated most in the world.

  He was a charming rat bastard who was slowly grazing his stubble across her exposed neck, slowly kneading her butt with his magic fingers. Oh. . . so. . . slowly pushing himself against her, rhythmically banging her against the front door.

  He wasn’t ever serious, always playing some game.

  He hefted her higher, fitting himself even more snugly between her open thighs.

  She thought he seemed pretty serious about this.

  She might have bit his earlobe when he whispered her name. She might have whimpered when his fingers dipped down the back of her jeans.

  He exhaled, letting her slide slowly down the door, still trapped against him, still feeling every last inch of him.

  He took a step backwards, grabbing her hands and pulling her away from the door. He said, “Your bed or mine?”

  His eyes bore into hers, his hands held hers, and his erection probed her stomach.

  She mentally counted down the days. Four more weeks of this? Four more weeks of a near constant barrage of Ethan Howell O’Connor trying to get into her pants?

  She wasn’t going to last.

  Maybe if they got this out of the way, he would lose interest. Move on to the next game.

  Plus, she really, really wanted to.

  She said, “The hell with it. Mine.”

  He smiled slowly and kissed her for one long moment. Then he bent, hoisted her fireman-style over his shoulder, and briskly walked toward her bedroom. “Excellent choice.”

  He put her back on her feet in front of her bed and went to his knees, slowly unzipping her jeans and tugging them down.

  She ran her hands through his hair. “Don’t I get any kind of foreplay here?”

  “What the hell do you think I’ve been doing this last week? I’m foreplayed out.”

  He looked at her exposed underwear, blinked, and sat back on his heels.

  “What are you wearing?”

  Mackenzie glanced down, then groaned. “Spanx. I forgot.”

  “Under jeans?” He shook his head. “This craze has gone far enough.”

  She couldn’t help the flush that spread across her face. “Um. . . It’s to keep you out. I didn’t trust myself.”

  He smirked. “With good reason.”

  “I could always change my mind.”

  He helped her step out of her jeans, then hopped up. “No. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him walk out the door, then stripped the Spanx off as fast as she could. She really had forgotten she’d been wearing them. It was not an undergarment that came off sexily. She pulled up a pair of panties just as he came back in, carrying scissors.

  She took a small step back. “Er. . . What are those for?”

  He picked the Spanx off the floor and started cutting it into long strips.

  She yelled, “Hey!”

  “I was going to cut it off your body. Would have been fun.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  He looked down at her panties. “We can still try it.”

  “No.”

  He dropped the destroyed Spanx on the carpet, along with the scissors, and turned back to her. “Sorry for the interruption. I had a foe to vanquish.”

  “Glad you got that out of your system. But it disturbs me that you somehow got a pair of scissors in here.”

  He grinned and reached down to grab the scissors, throwing them out the door. They hit the hallway wall and she jumped. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tumbled them to the bed.

  He said, “Where were we?”

  “I can’t remember. The scissors distracted me.”

  He kissed the side of her mouth. “Let me remind you.”

  He ran his hands underneath her shirt and said, “This shirt makes me want to rip it off you as well.”

  “I think it’s a personal problem.”

  He grabbed her shirt and ripped the two sides apart, buttons popping off and flying everywhere.

  She slapped his hands. “Come on! You’re destroying all my clothes.”

  “I’m in the throes of passion here. I can’t be held responsible.” He placed his hands on her black lace bra and nodded approvingly. “The underwear’s not bad, though.”

  Ethan reached behind Mackenzie and unsnapped the bra. He filled his hands with her bare breasts, then bent to suck one nipple. She ran her hands under his shirt and he grazed one nipple with his teeth. She pulled his shirt over his head and when he laid his hot skin against hers, she caught her breath.

  He popped his head up. “Have you remembered yet?”

  She nodded. “It’s coming back to me.”

  “Good.” He nipped his way down her stomach and fingered her panties. “I don’t know why you bothered with these.”

  He pulled them down her legs and flung them across the room. He sat back, looking at her, and smiled. “Nothing but my ring on. Could only be better if you were wearing heels.”

  She shook her head and he said, “Maybe next time.”

  He leaned down, licked her belly button and made her jump, and kissed his way back up.

  She popped the button on his pants and he said, “Not until you say it.”

  She rubbed the front of his pants, felt his erection straining the material, and said, “You really think I’m going to be the one to break first?”

  He took a deep breath. Then another. Then he said, “Yes. Absolutely.”

  She laughed and pushed his pants down his hips. “Prove it.”

  He jumped up, kicked his pants off, and climbed back on the bed before she got more than a peek. He ripped open a condom packet.

  She took it from him, pushed him onto his back, and knelt between his legs. She rolled the condom down his length, her hands cupped together, stroking him, rolling it down inch by slow inch.

  He broke out into a sweat. “I’m starting to hate you.”

  “Looks like it.”

  He flipped her onto her back, his hot penis sliding between her legs, and said, “Please, God. Say it.”

  She groaned. “Never.”

  He rubbed the top of his penis against her cleft and she said, “Oh, Jesus.”

  “Getting closer.�
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  “Ethan!”

  He whispered, “Ethan, God, yes.”

  “You goddam–”

  “Yes.”

  She growled at him and he used his teeth to nip the side of her breast. “Say yes.”

  “Yes! Please, yes!”

  He entered her in one smooth thrust, sliding into her ready wetness, and she shattered.

  She heard him say, “You broke first,” and she groaned, long and low. She dug her fingernails into his back and he ground out, “Oh, shit.” And followed her into oblivion.

  Ethan lay where he was for a few minutes. He’d get off her in a second, but he was relearning how to breathe. There was definitely something to be said for the chase.

  He pushed up, finding her flushed and sweaty beneath him, and said, “That was nice.”

  Her eyes opened slowly, the gold nearly engulfed by black. She blinked, focusing on him, then stretched. “Nice and short.”

  “I’m surprised we lasted that long. I haven’t had to work that hard to get into a woman’s panties since I turned sixteen.”

  She huffed a laugh and he pushed himself off her, laying on his side next to her. He fingered a few love marks on her pale skin.

  She’d closed her eyes again and he studied her face. Soft and relaxed, so unlike her normal ferocious intensity. He felt a stab of half-regret, half-fear. Maybe Mackenzie wasn’t as O’Connor-proof as he’d thought.

  He said, “We’re still safe here, right? This was just a friendly tickle between friends?”

  Her mouth curved. “A tickle? Was that what that was?”

  “It’s just that we happen to be engaged, and I happen to be a one-woman man.”

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, clearly amused. “You’ve really got a thing about that.”

  He rolled onto his back. “You try having that phrase drummed into your brain since childhood and see if you don’t have a thing.”

  Mackenzie scooted under the covers, rolling onto her stomach and plopping her chin in her hands. “Are you telling me that you have issues?”

  “Everyone has issues. It’s a rule.”

  “And yours is?”

  He crawled under the covers with her and their knees bumped. “If I tell you I have to marry you.”

  She shivered. “Sorry. Involuntary reaction. I was picturing your mother’s face when you told her we were getting married for real.”

  He froze and she said, “You’re supposed to laugh, not look terrified.”

  “I’ve been here too many times to laugh about casual wedding comments.”

  She stared at him before letting out a loud laugh. “You think I’m planning a wedding now? I’ve hopped into bed with you so I must be laying here dreaming of white dresses and pink flowers?”

  He groaned. “You already know what color flowers?”

  A smile broke over her face. “You’re seriously freaked, aren’t you?”

  He had been, but was starting to realize he probably shouldn’t be. She seemed to find the thought of marrying him extremely funny.

  She leaned close and murmured, “You just think you’re irresistible, don’t you?”

  He snaked his arm around her waist, running his hand down her naked back. “I would like to refer to exhibit A.”

  “Mm. And I would like to refer to the last two weeks of you trying to get in my pants. I simply couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “Wore you down, huh?”

  “It’s not really a compliment. I don’t know why you’re smiling.”

  “I’ll take whatever works with you.”

  She started to scoot away and he clamped his arm around her.

  He said, “That was a compliment. I’ve never wanted to sleep with a woman more. I’d be happy no matter what made you change your mind.”

  “That’s not as big a compliment as you think. You only wanted to sleep with me because you’re a horny bastard and you trapped yourself into being celibate for six weeks.”

  Ethan blinked, trying to remember if he’d ever been called any kind of bastard before.

  She said, “You could have gone and got yourself some strange but noooo. Ethan Howell O’Connor is a one-woman man.”

  “I don’t know why you’re getting mad about it.”

  She tried to pull away from him again but he kept her anchored. He was enjoying the feel of her breasts pressed against him. Enjoying her breath coming faster and faster, the flush returning to her skin.

  She really was getting angry with him.

  He stroked his thumb along the rise of her buttock. “I’m pretty sure it was you I wanted to sleep with. I don’t want you thinking any woman would have done.”

  “I’m pretty sure it was you I didn’t want to sleep with. But you kept touching me–”

  “So it was the touching that did it.” He brought his other hand up to stroke her shoulder.

  Her eyebrows slammed down. “I should have bought you a hooker.”

  He shook his head. “Never would have happened. I’m not the kind of man who cheats on a woman. I don’t ever want to be that kind of man, so I won’t let myself slip even once. Even with a woman who is only technically my woman. Even if that woman gave me permission.”

  “Don’t ever call me your woman again. Not even technically.”

  He laughed and she poked his side. She said, “Remember you have some unprotected soft bits within striking distance.”

  He murmured, “It’s not that soft.”

  At her outraged look, he said, “You’re threatening me. Seems to really get my motor running.”

  “Sick bastard.”

  “A horny bastard and a sick bastard? That seems unlikely. I would have heard something about it before now.”

  She said, “I would like to refer to exhibit A,” and he laughed.

  When she started to go for exhibit A, he pushed her onto her back, grabbing her hands and trapping them against the bed. She started to fight him for real and he was forced to drop his full weight onto her. Her breath whooshed out and he said quickly, hoping to distract her, “If I’m going to give half of the O’Connor fortune to my wife, I can’t give her any reason to destroy it. That’s why the O’Connors are one-woman men. Why I have to be.”

  Mackenzie was panting shallowly and he eased off her rib cage slightly. She took a deep breath and said, “Or you could just not give her half your fortune.”

  “It’s tradition.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “That’s no excuse.”

  It wasn’t an excuse. He didn’t have to give away half his fortune to get married. But ever since he’d started noticing girls he’d known that money changed things. Money changed how people acted around him, what they hid from him, and how they responded to him. Knowing he would have to give half of his shares insured he would take it slow when it came time to settle down. It was insurance against tricking himself into thinking he’d found a woman worthy of the O’Connor name when he really hadn’t.

  Ethan said, “My great-grandfather thought he was in love when he got married. And realized too late that she’d conned him, that he’d let himself be conned. He never would have married my great-grandmother if he’d had to give her half his fortune.”

  “I don’t know that any man would get married if he had to give half his fortune to do it.” She cocked her head. “Or any woman, for that matter.”

  “Maybe not. But it worked for my grandfather, and it worked for my father. They had long, happy marriages. Because they were sure of the women they married. Because their women were sure of them.”

  “I could maybe see where they were going with this, but all it’s done is freaked you out. Not only do you have to give half your money to your wife, you have to give all your pecker as well. Any man would balk at that.”

  He stared at her, relaxing his grip on her wrists in surprise.

  She said, “Just don’t do it.”

  “Don’t do what? Give all my pecker or half my shares?” He snorted, trying to keep his face
in line.

  “Just choose one. Sign a pre-nup.” She rolled her eyes to the heavens and mumbled, “For the love of God, sign a pre-nup. Forever love is just luck. Your grandfather and father got lucky.”

  “Now who’s got issues?”

  “Oh, it’s you. All you.”

  Mackenzie thrust one hip up, rolling him over onto his back and climbing on top of him. She trapped his wrists in her hands and leaned forward, her weight pinning him to the bed, her breasts bouncing and grabbing his attention.

  He grinned at her and she said, “You can just give your future wife a nice severance package in case of divorce and keep your company. And then give her all your pecker.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Please stop saying that. It puts a picture in my head I’m afraid I won’t ever get out.”

  “I’m just saying that if I was your wife I would be more concerned about love and fidelity than a couple million dollars.”

  His eyebrows rose. “A couple million dollars?”

  Mackenzie narrowed her eyes. “A couple hundred million dollars?”

  “Hmm.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and Ethan didn’t bother keeping his eyes on her face.

  She said, “I don’t think a wife is worth fifty million dollars. Any wife.”

  He looked back up into her eyes. “Now you’re just fishing.”

  She laughed, leaning back and taking her weight off his wrists. “Don’t tell me. It’ll just make me want to break out the snake oil.”

  He sat up, wrapping his arms around her and whispering a number into her ear.

  She choked. “That’s just disgusting. Why would any one person need that much money?”

  “You getting the itch to relieve me of some of it?”

  Ethan laughed at her guilty look, squeezing her. “I don’t believe you. I already tried to give you part of O’Connor Capital and you turned me flat. That’s not the action of a gold digger.”

  She looked at him through lidded eyes. “Maybe I’m just waiting for half.”

  He didn’t feel even a blip of fear when she brought up marrying him this time. “You’d have to marry me for real to get it. I don’t think you’re willing to pay that price.”

  She ran her hand down his arm slowly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “My information about your net worth has changed recently. It’s making me doubt how much I detest you.”