In Name Only: Best Friend Bride (In Name Only) / One Night Stand Bride (In Name Only) / Contract Bride (In Name Only)

He licked the hollow of her collarbone, loving the texture under his tongue. More Viv needed. Her answering gasp encouraged him to keep going.

Gathering handfuls of her dress, he yanked it from between them and bunched it at her waist, pressing harder into the heat of her backside the moment he bared it. His clothes and a pair of thin panties lay between him and paradise, and he wanted all that extraneous fabric gone.

She arched against him as his fingers cruised along the hem of her drenched underwear and he took that as agreement, stripping them off in one motion. Then he nudged her legs wider, opening her sex, and indulged them both by running a fingertip down the length of her crease. Her hands flew out and smacked the wall and she used it to brace as she ground her pelvis into his.

Fire tore through his center and he needed to be inside her with an uncontrollable urge, but the condoms were clear across the cavernous living area in his bedside table. He couldn’t wait. Viv cried out his name as he plunged one then two fingers into her center, groaning at the slick, damp heat that greeted him. She was so wet, so perfect.

As he fingered her, she shuddered, circling her hips in a frenzied, friction-induced madness that pushed him to the brink. Her hot channel squeezed his fingers and that was nearly all she wrote. Did she have a clue how much he wanted to yank his zipper down, impale her and empty himself? Every muscle in his body fought him and his will crumbled away rapidly. Reaching between them, he eased open his belt.

But then she came apart in his arms, huffing out little noises that drove him insane as she climaxed. His own release roared to the forefront and all it would take was one tiny push to put him over the edge. Hell, he might not even need a push. Shutting his eyes against the strain, he drew out her release with long strokes that made her whimper.

She collapsed in his arms as she finished and he held her upright, murmuring nonsense to her as she caught her breath.

“Let me take you to bed,” he said, and she nodded, but it was more of a nuzzle as she turned her cheek into his.

To hell with boundaries.

He hustled her to his room, shed his clothes and hers without ripping anything this time—because he was in control—and finally she was naked. Sultry smile in place, she crawled onto the bed and rolled into a provocative position that begged him to get between her legs immediately and hammer after his own release. But despite being positive the only thing he could possibly do next was get inside her as fast as humanly possible, he paused, struck immobile all at once.

That was his wife decked out on the bed.

The sight bled through him, warming up places inside dangerously fast. Places that weren’t what he’d call normal erogenous zones. And that’s when he realized his gaze was on her smile. Not her body.

What was wrong with him? A naked woman was on display for his viewing pleasure. He forced his gaze to her breasts, gratified when the pert tips pebbled under his watchfulness. That was more like it. This was about sex and how good two people could make each other feel.

With a growl, he knelt on the bed and kissed his way up her thigh. He could absolutely keep his hands off her if he wanted to. He had total control over his desires, his emotions. There was nothing this woman could do to drive him to the point of desperation, not in bed and certainly not out of it. To prove it, he pushed her thighs open and buried his face between them.

She parted for him easily, her throaty cry washing over him as he plunged his tongue into her slickness. That wet heat was his. He’d done that to her and he lapped at it, groaning as her musky scent flooded his senses. The ache in his groin intensified into something so strong it was otherworldly. He needed to feel her tight, slick walls close around him, to watch her face as it happened. He needed it, but denied himself because she didn’t own his pleasure. He owned hers.

Her hips rolled and bucked. He shoved his mouth deeper into her center as she silently sought more, and he gave it to her. Over and over he worked his lips and tongue against her swollen flesh until she bowed up with a release that tensed her whole body. And then she collapsed against the mattress, spilling breathy, satisfied sighs all over him. Only then did he permit his own needs to surge to the surface.

Fingering on a condom that he’d retrieved from the drawer, he settled over her and indulged his intense desire to kiss her. She eagerly took his tongue, sucking it into her hot mouth, and he groaned as he transferred her own taste back to her. Their hips came together, legs tangling, and before he could fully register her intent, she gathered him up in her tight fist and guided him into the paradise at her core.

A strong urge to fill her swelled. But he held on by the scrabbly edge of his fingertips, refusing to slam into her as he ached to do. Slowly, so slowly that he nearly came apart, he pushed. Her slickness accepted him easily, wringing the most amazing bliss from a place he scarcely recognized. The deeper he sank, the better it felt.

Her gaze captured his and he fell into her depths. She filled him, not the other way around. How was that physically possible? He couldn’t fathom it, but neither could he deny it. Or halt the rush of Viviana through his veins as she streamed straight to his heart in a kill shot that flooded all four chambers at once.

And then there was nothing but her and the unbelievable feel of her skin against his, her desire soaking through his pores in an overwhelming deluge. He meant to hold back, determined to prove something that escaped him as she changed the angle. Somehow that allowed him to go deeper, push harder. Her cries spurred him on, and unbelievably, she took it higher, sucking him under into a maelstrom of sensation and heightened pleasure.

When her hips began pistoning in countermeasure to his, it nearly tore him in two. Delirious with the need to come, he grabbed one of her legs and pushed at the knee, opening her wider so he had plenty of room to finger her at the source of her pleasure. Two circular strokes and she climaxed, squeezing him so tight that it tripped the wire on his own release.

Bright pinpoints of light streamed behind his eyes as he came so hard that he would have easily believed he’d crossed over into an alternate dimension. In this new dimension, he could let all the things crowding through his chest spill out of his mouth. But those things shouldn’t exist in any universe.

If he didn’t acknowledge them, they didn’t exist. Then he wouldn’t be breaking his word.

As his vision cleared and his muscles relaxed, rendering him boneless, he collapsed to the mattress, rolling Viv into his arms.

The heavy diamond swung down from the chain he’d latched around her neck, whacking him on the shoulder. He fingered it back into place silently, weighing out whether he could actually speak or if that spectacular orgasm had in fact stolen his voice.

“I get the sense you’ve been saving up,” Viv commented huskily, her lips moving against his chest, where her face had landed after he’d nestled her close. Probably he shouldn’t have done that, but he liked coming down from a post-lovemaking high with her in his arms.

“It’s been a while,” he allowed. “I mean, other than last night, obviously.”

Her mouth curved up in a smile. “Both times were amazing. I could get used to this.”

He could, too. That was enough to get the panic really rolling. “We should probably talk about that.”

To soften the blow, he threaded some of her pretty, silky hair through his fingers. That felt so nice, he kept going, running all the way down her head to her neck and back again.

“Mmm,” she purred, pressing into his fingers, which were somehow massaging her with little strokes that she clearly liked. “I’m listening.”

“We’re still friends, right?” Pathetic. That hadn’t been what he’d intended to say at all, but now that it was out there...it was exactly what he wanted to know. He wanted to hear her say that having an amazing encounter that he’d felt to his soul hadn’t really affected her all that much. Then he could keep lying to himself about it and have zero qualms.

“Sure.”

She kissed his chest right above his nipple and then flicked her tongue across the flat disk. Flames erupted under his skin, fanning outward to engulf his whole body, including his brain, because he suddenly couldn’t recall what he’d been so convinced he needed to establish.

Then she slung a leg over his, nestling her thigh against the semi-erection that grew a lot less semi much faster than he would have credited, considering how empty he’d have sworn he was already.

“Geez, Viv.” He bit back the curse word that had sprung to his lips. “You’re insatiable.”

Not that he was complaining. Though he should be saying something that sounded a lot like “Let’s dial it back about one hundred and eighty degrees.”

“You make me that way,” she said throatily. “I’ve been celibate for like a billion years and that was totally okay, but all of a sudden, you kiss me and I can’t think. I just want to be naked with you 24/7.”

“Yeah?” he growled. That pretty much mirrored his thoughts perfectly. “That can be arranged.”

No. No, it could not.

He had a merger to manage. Reins to pick up from his grandfather. What was he talking about, letting Viv coerce him into a day-and-night screw fest? That sounded like a recipe for disaster, especially given how strong his reactions to her were. They needed to cool it off.

“We can’t.” She sighed. “I’ve got a mountain of paperwork and Josie requested the rest of the week off so she can study for final exams. As nice as this is, we should probably back off for a while. Don’t you think?”

“Absolutely not.” Wrong answer. Open your mouth and take it back. “We’re doing fine winging it. Aren’t we? There’s no pressure. If you come home from work hot and needy and want to strip down in the foyer to let me take care of you, I’m perfectly fine with that.”

In fact, he’d gladly etch that date on his planner with a diamond drill bit. Mental note: buy Viv more jewelry and more racy lingerie. If he really tried, he could space out the gifts, one a night for oh, at least two weeks.

She arched a brow. “Really? This isn’t feeling a little too real?”

His mood deflated. And now he was caught in a trap of his own making. He couldn’t lie to Viv, but neither could he admit that it had been feeling too real since the ceremony. The same one he’d tried to sell to Warren and Hendrix as a fake wedding when Warren had clued in immediately that there was nothing fake about any of this.

This was what he got for not nodding his head the second the words back off came out of her mouth.

“See, the thing is,” he began and would have sworn he’d been about to say that being friends with no benefits worked better for him. But that’s not what happened. “I need this to be real. I don’t have to pretend that I’m hot for you, because I am. We don’t have to sell that we’re burning up the sheets when we have dinner with your family on Friday. Why not keep going? The reasons we started this are still true. Unless I’ve dissatisfied you in some way?”

“Oh, God. No!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Not in the slightest. You’re the hottest lover I’ve ever had, bar none.”

That pleased him enormously. “Then stop talking about easing off. We can be casual about it. Sometimes you sleep in my bed. Sometimes you don’t. No rules. We’re just friends who’re having really great sex.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

She shrugged like she could take it or leave it, which raked across his spine with a sharpness that he didn’t like. She obviously wasn’t feeling any of the same things he was. She’d been a half second from calling it quits. Would have if he hadn’t stopped her.

“Great.” And somehow he’d managed to appease his sense of honor while agreeing to continue sleeping with his wife in what was shaping up to be the hottest affair he’d ever had.

It was madness. And he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

Eight

If there was a way to quit Jonas, Viv didn’t want to know about it.

She should be looking for the exit, not congratulating herself on the finest plea for remaining in a man’s bed that had ever been created in the history of time. She couldn’t help it. The scene after the most explosive sexual encounter of her life had been almost as epic. Jonas had no idea how much it had killed her to act so nonchalant about ending things. He’d been shocked she’d suggested backing off. It had been written all over his face.

That kept her feeling smug well into the dawn hours the next morning. She rolled toward the middle of the bed, hoping to get a few minutes of snuggle time before work. Cold sheets met her questing fingers. Blinking an eye open, she sought the man she’d gone to sleep with.

Empty. Jonas had gotten out of bed already. The condo was quiet. Even when she was in her bedroom, she could hear the shower running through the pipes in the ceiling—a treat she normally enjoyed, as she envisioned the man taking a shower in all his naked glory.

Today, she didn’t get that luxury, as Jonas was clearly already gone. Profoundly disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her goodbye, said goodbye or thought about her at all, she climbed out from under the sheets and gathered up her clothes for the return trek to her bedroom.

It was fine. They’d established last night that there were no rules. No pressure. When he’d gotten on board with convincing her that they could keep sleeping together—which she still couldn’t quite believe she’d orchestrated so well—she’d thought that meant they were going to spend a lot of time together. Be goofy and flirty with each other. Grow closer and closer until he looked up one day and realized that friendship plus marriage plus sex equaled something wonderful, lasting and permanent. Obviously she’d thought wrong.

The whole point had been to give him the impression she wasn’t clingy. That Independence was her middle name and she breezed through life just fine, thanks, whether she had a man or not. Apparently he’d bought it. Go me.

The sour taste wouldn’t quite wash from her mouth no matter how much mouthwash she used. After a long shower to care for her well-used muscles, Viv wandered to the kitchen barefoot to fight with Jonas’s espresso machine. She had a machine at Cupcaked but Jonas’s was a futuristic prototype that he’d brought home from work to test. There were more buttons and gizmos than on a spaceship. Plus, it hated her. He’d used it a couple of times and made it seem so easy, but he had a natural affinity with things that plugged in, and the machine had his name on it, after all. Finally, she got a passably decent latte out of the monstrosity.

She stood at the granite countertop to drink it, staring at the small, discreet Kim Electronics logo in the lower right-hand corner of the espresso machine. Jonas’s name had been emblazoned on her, too, and not just via the marriage license and subsequent trip to the DMV to get a new driver’s license. He’d etched his name across her soul well before they’d started sleeping together. Maybe about the third or fourth time they’d had lunch.

Strange then that she could be so successful with snowing him about her feelings. It had never worked with any man before. Of course, she’d never tried so hard to be cool about it. Because it had never mattered so much.

But now she wasn’t sure what her goal here really was. Or what it should be. Jonas had “talked” her into keeping sex on the menu of their relationship. She’d convinced him their friendship could withstand it. Really, the path was pretty clear. They were married friends with benefits. If she didn’t like that, too bad.

She didn’t like it.

This wasn’t practice for another relationship and neither was it fake, not for her. Which left her without a lot of options, since it was fake to Jonas.

Of course, she always had the choice to end things. But why in the world would she want to do that? Her husband was the most amazing lover on the planet, whose beautiful body she could not get enough of. He bought her diamonds and complimented her cupcakes. To top it all off, Viv was married. She’d been after that holy grail for ages and it had felt really nice to flash her ring at her sisters when they’d come to the shop last week. It was the best possible outcome of agreeing to do this favor for Jonas.

Convinced that she should be happy with that, she walked the four blocks to Cupcaked and buried herself in the kitchen, determined to find a new cupcake flavor to commemorate her marriage. That was how she’d always done things. When something eventful occurred, she baked. It was a way of celebrating in cake form, because wasn’t that the whole point of cake? And then she had a cupcake flavor that reminded her of a wonderful event.

The watermelon recipe she’d been dying to try didn’t turn out. The red food coloring was supposed to be tasteless but she couldn’t help thinking that it had added something to the flavor that made the cupcake taste vaguely like oil. But without it, the batter wasn’t the color of watermelon.

Frustrated, she trashed the whole batch and went in search of a different food coloring vendor. Fruitless. All her regular suppliers required an industrial sized order and she couldn’t commit to a new brand without testing it first.

She ended up walking to the market and buying three different kinds off the shelf. For no reason, apparently, as all three new batches she made didn’t turn out either. Maybe watermelon wasn’t a good cupcake flavor. More to the point, maybe she shouldn’t be commemorating a fake marriage that was real to her but still not going to last. That was the problem. She was trying to capture something fleeting that shouldn’t be immortalized.

After the cupcake failure, her mood slid into the dumps. She threw her apron on the counter and stayed out of the kitchen until lunch, when she opened for business to the public. On the plus side, every display case had been cleaned and polished, and the plate-glass window between Cupcaked and the world had not one smudge on it. Camilla wouldn’t be in until after school, so Viv was by herself for the lunch rush, which ended up being a blessing in disguise.

Wednesday wasn’t normally a busy day, but the line stretched nearly out the door for over an hour. Which was good. Kept her mind off the man she’d married. Josie had the rest of the week off, and Viv had approved it thinking she and Camilla could handle things, but if this kind of crowd was even close to a new normal, she might have to see about adding another part-time employee. That was a huge decision, but a good sign. If she couldn’t have Jonas, she could have her cupcakes. Just like she’d always told him.

After locking the bakery’s door, tired but happy with the day’s profits, she headed home. On the way, she sternly lectured herself about her expectations. Jonas might be waiting in the hall for her to come in the door like he had been last night. Or he might not. Her stomach fluttered the entire four blocks regardless. Her husband had just been so sexy standing there against the wall with a hot expression on his face as if he planned to devour her whole before she completely shut the door.

And then he pretty much had, going down on her in the most erotic of encounters. She shuddered clear to her core as she recalled the feel of that first hot lick of his tongue.

Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t stop hoping he’d be waiting for her again tonight. Her steps quickened as she let herself anticipate seeing Jonas in a few minutes.

But he wasn’t in the hall. Or at home. That sucked.

Instead of moping, she fished out her phone and called Grace. It took ten minutes, but eventually her sister agreed to have dinner with Viv.

They met at an Italian place on Glenwood that had great outdoor seating that allowed for people watching. The maître d’ showed them to a table and Grace gave Viv a whole three seconds before she folded her hands and rested her chin on them.

“Okay, spill,” she instructed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you before Friday. Is Jonas in the doghouse already?”

“What? No.” Viv scowled. Why did something have to be wrong for her to ask her sister to dinner? Besides, that was none of Grace’s business anyway. Viv pounced on the flash of green fire on her sister’s wrist in a desperate subject change. “Ooooh, new bracelet? Let me see.”

The distraction worked. Grace extended her arm dutifully, her smile widening as she twisted her wrist to let the emeralds twinkle in the outdoor lighting. “Alan gave it to me. It’s an anniversary present.”

“You got married in April,” Viv said.

“Not a wedding anniversary. It’s a...different kind of anniversary.”

Judging by the dreamy smile that accompanied that admission, she meant the first time she and Alan had slept together, and clearly the act had been worthy of commemorating.

Viv could hardly hide her glee. It was going to be one of those discussions and she finally got to participate. “Turns out Jonas is big on memorializing spectacular sex, too.”

“Well, don’t hold back. Show and tell.” Grace waggled her brows.

Because she wanted to and she could, Viv fished the diamond drop necklace from beneath her dress and let it hang from her fingers. Not to put too fine a point on it, but hers was a flawless white diamond in a simple, elegant setting. Extremely appropriate for the wife of a billionaire. And he’d put it around her neck and then given her the orgasm of her life.

The baubles she could do without and had only mentioned jewelry in the car on the way to Jonas’s parents’ house because he’d pushed her to name something he could do for her. She hadn’t really been serious. But all at once, she loved that Jonas had unwittingly allowed her to stand shoulder to shoulder with her sister when it came to talking about whose marriage was hotter.

“Your husband is giving you jewelry already?” Grace asked, and her tone was colored with something that sounded a lot like she was impressed. “Things must be going awfully well.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Viv commented airily and waved her hand like she imagined a true lady of the manor would. “We didn’t even make it out of the foyer where he gave it to me before his hands were all over me.”

Shameless. This was the raciest conversation she’d ever had with anyone except maybe Jonas, but that didn’t count. She should be blushing. Or something. Instead she was downright giddy.

“That’s the best.” Grace’s dreamy smile curved back into place. “When you have a man who loves you so much that he can’t wait. I’m thrilled you finally have that.”

Yeah, not so much. Her mood crashed and burned as reality surfaced. Viv nodded with a frozen expression that she hoped passed for agreement.

Obviously Grace knew what it felt like to have a man dote on her and give her jewelry because he cared, not because they were faking a relationship. Grace could let all her feelings hang out as much as she wanted and Alan would eat it up. Because they were in love.

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