by Ella Miles
I chuckle, a grin slipping back onto my face as I listen to all the things Millie is excited to do. I haven’t smiled this much in years, but find myself grinning all the time when I’m around Millie.
“You’re laughing at me. You think this is all a bad idea. Well, what do you want to do, Mr. Boring?”
I laugh again. “Actually, it all sounds great, Millie. I’m up for whatever you want to do this week.”
Her eyes narrow as she tries to figure out if I’m lying or telling the truth. “You sure Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass is up for an adventure?”
“I am. I’ll say yes to anything this week.”
“Anything?” Her eyes light up.
“Anything.” My eyes sear with all the dirty thoughts I’m thinking.
She notices, and her eyes turn fiery.
She grabs my hand and pulls me back inside. I’m hoping her first choice of activity will involve us both getting naked and using the ginormous bed or jacuzzi, but when she drops my hand and picks up a brochure, I know that’s not where her head is.
Too bad. My cock twitches in my pants. I’ve never been this hard without a release. Six months and only one night of sex with this woman is going to be a nightmare.
Something catches Millie’s attention, and I follow her gaze to the bottle of champagne chilling.
Do I tell her that I won’t be drinking? Do I tell her why? It will be such a buzz kill. I’ve been sober for ten years.
No, I’ve been sober one day. I don’t care if it was just one night. It was a slip-up. A major slip up that led me to getting fucking married. Although, I might take the fresh start with my sobriety if it means I get to spend a week in this hotel with Millie.
“I don’t think we should drink this trip,” Millie says, which sounds like music to my ears.
“Oh? Why do you say that?” I ask as casually as I can.
“Last time we got drunk, we ended up married to complete strangers. Who knows what we would do if we did it again.”
I nod, agreeing.
“And besides, I’m on a diet. This should be a healthy vacation. We’ll spend our time doing fun, adventurous things instead of gorging on gluttonous food and alcohol that is only going to mean I leave fifteen pounds heavier.”
I frown. I don’t know why Millie insists she needs to lose weight. She looks fucking incredible—perfect curves in all the right places.
It’s because you basically called her fat, you jackass.
I sigh. I need to fix this.
“I agree that this should be a healthy vacation. One where we do things that are good for us instead of indulging in drinking, but not because we might gain fifteen pounds. Even if you gained fifteen pounds, you’d still look smoking hot.”
“But you—“
“I know what I said. I was an idiot. I should have never assumed you were pregnant just because you were the only one not drinking that night. I’m sorry. I thought everyone in the bridal party was married except me. I knew you weren’t drinking and just jumped to conclusions. I don’t think you are fat; far from it. You’re beautiful.”
Millie gives me a relaxed smile, one where she keeps her lips pressed together instead of letting her smile reach her eyes. She doesn’t fully believe me, which means I’m going to have to prove it to her.
“Can we start over? We didn’t get off on the best of foot, but I really think we could have fun together this week.”
Millie nods. “Yes, let’s start over.” She grabs two champagne flutes. Dammit, I thought we were past the drinking thing. She digs through the mini-fridge and pulls out some sparkling water and fills our glasses.
“To starting over,” she says, as she hands me a glass.
“To being Mr. and Mrs. King.”
She smiles bigger now. “I’m still not fucking you, Mr. King.”
“Oh, we will see about that. There is only one bed, after all, I don’t think you’ll be able to resist having me sleep next to you every night and not fuck me.”
“This suite is huge. I’m sure you can sleep on the couch, or the hotel can bring up a cot for you to sleep on.”
I step closer to her, into her space. She doesn’t step back. She’s too determined to not let me affect her.
“I don’t think the hotel would know what to do if the couple in the honeymoon suite asked for a cot.”
“You’re full of shit, Mr. King. You don’t give a fuck what the hotel staff thinks of us.”
“But you do.”
She cocks her head and folds her arms. “Actually, I don’t. But the bed is huge. I think we can manage to sleep next to each other like adults and not fuck like bunnies. Unlike you, I don’t have sex with someone just because they share a bed with me.”
“I don’t either, Mrs. King. But I’m very much going to enjoy fucking my wife.”
Her breath catches. I got the reaction I wanted. Now it’s time for the real fun.
14
Millie
The entire day has been one activity after the other. We’ve been going non-stop since we left the room early in the afternoon.
We’ve explored the city, went zip-lining, and then finished the day off with a jet ski tour. We haven’t had time to stop, even to enjoy a romantic meal together all day, which was intentional.
I don’t want to give Sebastian any opportunity to say sweet things that makes my heart go pitter-patter. Staying in a honeymoon suite in Hawaii with a hot man like Sebastian is just asking for trouble, so I need to keep us out of that hotel room as much as possible. We will only return when we are both seconds away from crashing.
Sebastian, to his credit, has been a good sport. He hasn’t complained once about the crazy schedule I’ve made us keep. His only attempt at romance was when we were renting jet skis, suggesting that we share one. I quickly said I wanted my own, and he didn’t protest too hard. And when I looked back at him, he seemed to be having a good time driving his own jet ski.
But now it’s getting dark. The day is ending, and I’m running out of excuses for us not to go back to our hotel room.
“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” I say.
“Lead the way,” Sebastian says, just like he has all day. He’s gone along with every activity. I wonder if he will truly let me decide every activity of this vacation. So far, he has.
I kick off my flip flops. Sebastian does the same as we walk along the hotel’s beach in the moonlight. We pass a few couples holding hands. If we were really here on our honeymoon, we would be doing the same. Although, if we were really here on our honeymoon, I doubt I would be making an excuse to not go back to our hotel room right now. In fact, we’d probably spend our entire time in the hotel room.
“So we haven’t had time to talk much. What do you do for a living?” I ask.
“Nope, we aren’t going to go there.”
I frown. “How are we going to pretend to be married to each other if we don’t know anything about each other when we return?”
“First of all, we will know all the important things, like you hate pineapple, and I hate sushi.”
“Which is absolutely ridiculous, by the way. Who hates sushi?”
He ignores me. “I’ll know that you snore and how long it takes you to do your makeup.”
“I don’t snore and five minutes.”
He chuckles. “I guess we’ll find out tonight.”
“But what about our jobs, our mothers’ names, where we grew up? We should know the answers to those questions.”
He nods. “We will. We can talk about all of that on the flight home. But I don’t want this to feel like a first date. First dates suck. I want this to be fun, an adventure. We can learn the important things about each other after we leave. Agreed?”
“You know for a man who claims he isn’t adventurous; you sure got this adventure thing down pretty fast,” I say.
“I’m adventurous when I want to be.”
“Good, because I’ve decided our next activity.”
He looks
around in the dark. Only the moonlight and the lights from the hotel in the distance pierce the darkness.
“I assume you mean go back to the hotel to sit in the jacuzzi? I don’t think there is anything else to do at midnight.”
“You are such an old man.” I grab the hem of my tank top and pull it over my head.
He blinks his surprise as I stand in my sports bra. I should have had us wear our swimsuits under our clothes, but I only brought one, and it’s not the most comfortable thing to wear all day.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“What are we doing, you mean.” I shimmy out of my jean shorts until I’m standing in front of him in just my sports bra and thong. Even in the darkness, I can see his eyes heat at the sight of my body. He wasn’t lying when he said he found me attractive.
“Strip,” I say.
I don’t have to tell him twice. He removes his shirt and khaki shorts in record time, not even asking why we are stripping in the middle of a public beach. The darkness makes it hard to see every groove of muscle on his body, but I don’t have to take in every wave of his muscles to know how ripped he is. I already have the memory of his shirtless body to fill in any gaps.
I turn around before I lose my nerve, and then I pull my sports bra off.
“Millie, what are you doing?”
I slip my panties down, and then I’m running into the waves. “Skinny dipping!”
I don’t wait for Sebastian. If I do, I’m going to catch sight of his naked body again. I’m going to see what lies beneath the bulge in his boxers, and this isn’t about that. It’s about doing something crazy and adventurous.
Sebastian seems plenty adventurous to me. We’re married for goodness sakes; if that isn’t fearless, I don’t know what is. But I get the feeling that other than his hookups, he usually isn’t too adventurous. He must have a boring desk job or something.
I hear Sebastian splashing in the waves behind me, and I dive under. Chills immediately set in as soon as my head dunks under the water. It’s springtime in Hawaii at night. There is a reason no one else is in the water—it’s fricking cold.
My head rises out of the water and comes face to face with a soaking and very naked Sebastian.
“You’re crazy! This water is so cold,” he says.
“You said you were up for anything. I wanted to see how far I could push you. Ever skinny-dipped before?”
He shakes his head. His eyes go to my bare shoulders and chest that bob up and down with the waves, threatening to reveal more of my body to him.
I shiver. We need to head back before we freeze to death and ruin our vacation on the first day.
“Come here,” he says. His voice is calm and trusting. He holds out his arms and waits.
I move closer, suspecting it’s a trap. When his arms go around me, I realize he’s just being a gentleman. He’s warming my body against his—it’s sweet.
“We should head back before my cock falls off from hypothermia.”
I laugh, and we start swimming back. We get close to where the water will no longer hide my nakedness from him.
“Go on, I’ll turn around until you’re dressed.”
“Nope, we go together. It’s too cold to wait in the water.” I grab his hand and pull him toward our clothes. Neither of us looks below the other’s eyes, no matter how badly we both want to, as we slip our clothes back onto our soaking bodies.
“You’re shivering,” Sebastian says.
I look up at him. He’s put his shorts back on but not his shirt. Water drips down his chest in beads, bouncing over his rock hard muscles.
When my gaze meets his, there is a familiar grin. “Put your arms up.”
I frown, not understanding, but I do what he says. He slips his T-shirt down over my body.
“Better?” he asks.
I tremble again, but I’m not sure if it’s from being cold or his touch.
He frowns. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up.” He takes my hand, our fingers melding together like all the other couples on the beach. But they don’t stay together for long and then Sebastian has me pulled against his side. His arm is draped over my shoulders, and his hand runs up and down my bicep, trying to keep me warm as we race back to the hotel.
All I can focus on is his touch against my skin. His arm over my shoulders. His smell is filling my nostrils.
“Still cold?” Sebastian asks as we enter the lobby.
“Nope.” In fact, I’m burning hot from his touch. An unfamiliar ache grows in my belly—want, desire, lust. Things I haven’t felt in such a long time.
We enter the elevator—our nemesis. Sebastian hits the button for the top floor and then holds me tighter to his side.
“You don’t have to keep doing that. I’m warm.”
“I know.” His answer is confusing; I have no idea what that means.
I stare ahead as the numbers climb, his arm feeling surprisingly perfect around me, even if he’s turning my hormones upside down with need. The numbers jump from ten to the eleventh floor, and I panic. I don’t want to be stuck in an elevator alone with Sebastian. Not when we are soaked. Not when both of our minds are on the reckless thing we just did. Reckless because we were naked, and it spurred our desire, not because I was afraid we’d get caught.
“I think for once I’m hoping it will get stuck,” Sebastian whispers in my ear, his voice somehow dropping an octave.
“Oh yea, why’s that?” My voice grows raspy as I speak.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll win our bet if we get stuck.”
Just then, the doors open on the top floor. “Maybe you’ll have better luck next time.”
We step out. Sebastian’s arm is no longer around me as I strut to the door and pull the room key out of my pocket. It flashes green, and then I step inside, feeling burning hot even though I’m dripping wet.
“What are we doing now?” Sebastian asks, making me jump.
I turn around to face him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re in charge of all our activities. What are we doing now?”
I’m staring at his chest again. Damn, he has a nice chest. Why does he have to have such a nice chest?
“Millie, does the next activity involve us ogling each other? If so, you need to remove a layer of clothing to make it fair.” He winks at me.
I breathe again. The shiver returns.
“I think I should be the one to decide the evening’s activities, or at least tonight’s activity,” Sebastian says.
And just like that, my breath is gone again. I nod.
He laughs.
“Let’s warm-up in the jacuzzi. Your nipples are rock hard; you must be freezing.”
I look down and, for the first time, I realize that you can see straight through the two layers of shirts I’m wearing. I should be embarrassed, but Sebastian’s heated gaze keeps me from feeling anything but want.
I want him.
You shouldn’t.
Maybe I should?
Just get a redo on the one time. Something to remember this time.
No, Millie.
Sebastian’s eyes flicker back and forth over my forehead like he can read my mind.
“Where’s your suit? I can get it for you,” Sebastian says.
He’s just as affected as I am. If we are going to fuck, it’s going to be because he begged for it, not because I did. I don’t usually strut around naked; it’s not my style. But I want to with Sebastian.
He thinks I’m wild, and I am, but not in this way.
I grab the bottom of both of the shirts I’m wearing and lift them over my head, still facing Sebastian. He’s frozen as he stares at me, not hiding where his gaze is this time—on my breasts.
I let him take in my body. I let the memory burn into his brain. My next move is even bolder—I undo the button on my jean shorts and slide them down my body until I’m naked in front of him.
His hand balls into a fist, and he bites his knuckles to keep from begging for me. I
can see how close he is to breaking.
Give in, Sebastian. I want you, too.
But he doesn’t.
Soon, one of us is going to break. It’s only a matter of time.
“My first wife is hot.”
I blush.
He steps closer and drops his shorts.
Fuck me.
He’s gorgeous.
His cock is hard, just like every other part of him.
“So is my husband.”
“You ready to put our last activity on the table?”
“Are you?” My eyes cut down to his cock, which is very ready.
“Just say the word, Mrs. King.”
“Not until you beg, Mr. King.”
And then I turn and strut toward the jacuzzi on our private balcony.
“Fuck, you’re good, Millie,” I hear Sebastian curse under his breath.
I know. And if I’m lucky, I’ll get to fuck him and win the bet at the same time. I’ll get the fantasy husband for one day. I just have to remember it’s a fantasy. In real life, I’ll never get the perfect husband.
15
Sebastian
Watching Millie’s naked body walk away from me and not at least trying to get her into bed was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It takes all of my restraint to not beg her, to not literally get down on my knees to let me fuck her.
Millie Raine is the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. She’s got more confidence than Taylor Swift does when she struts around on stage. Her body is fit and curvy, and I want to grab onto every one of those curves.
Why the hell did I make a bet saying that she would be begging me? I’ll be the one begging. She’s a predator. When she removed her clothes, she knew exactly what she was doing—winning.
I don’t care that she’s winning. I want her to win. I just hope she decides to collect on her prize. I hope she lets me worship her body, taste between her legs. I want it all, and if she won’t let my cock enter her body, I at least want to touch and taste every part she’ll let me.
