“That would be themarryandmeparts,” I say, with a sarcastic chuckle.
Shaking my head, I drag a hand over my hair, my fingers bumping against my bun. It takes everything in me not to rip the band out of my hair and scratch the hell out of my scalp like a woman who’s lost her shit.
I deliberately inhale a breath and stretch my arms high above my head, aiming to appear calm. Trying to seem as if my heart isn’t playing kickball with my rib cage. Especially when his attention dips to my breasts, and his inquisition about my piercings replays verbatim in my head. My nipples seem to have perfect recall as well, because they tighten to the point of pain, sending a throbbing ache straight to my clit.
Thefuck?
What theactualfuck?
That, that… abomination of heat that briefly flared in my belly and had my pussy quivering in the kitchen was an aberration. A delusional—and forgivable—blip from being up for nearly twenty-four hours. But this… This spasmodic clenching of my walls around an aching emptiness is inexcusable.
This isAsad.
My fucking nemesis.
Talking about marriage. Whymarriage? No engagement? Just skip that—wait. What am I thinking, and where am I going withthat? Marriage, engagement. It’s all bad, and all a big-assno.
“Okay.” I hold up a hand, palm out. Anything to distract him from the beaded tips of my breasts that have no goddamn shame. “I’ll play. Why are you under the impression that we will be husband and wife in a month?”
“Because it’s in your best interest to do so.”
I scoff, waving him off. “It’s also in my best interest to get a caffeine enema, but you don’t see me bending over and shoving Folger’s breakfast blend up my ass, sooo…”
That frigid, gray stare settles on me for several long seconds. Then he smiles. It’s a slow, gradual curving of those almost too-lush lips. It’s stunning. It’s breathtaking.
It’s unnerving.
“My dick,” he murmurs.
“Excuse me?” I jerk my chin toward my neck, scowling.
“My dick,” he repeats, still wearing that unsettling, beautiful smile. “That’s what I’m going to use first to break that mouth in.”
The explosive puffs of air escaping my lungs competes with the deafening silence in the room.
“The fuck?” I rasp.
He didn’t just say that to me. He couldn’t have… Asad doesn’t… We’re not…
Oh shit. Now I can’t even complete whole thoughts. I’m a fucking double-master’s-degree-holding scientist, for God’s sake, and he’s reduced my mental to, to rubble. Instead of words, vivid, revolting, and—shit—hot-as-fuck images crowd into my head. Images of me, down on my knees, head tilted back, mouth wide open as Asad feeds me his big, long, veiny dick until I’m choking on it…
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Muthafucka, I don’t evenwantthe dick.”
That smile widens and it’s still beautiful. Still disturbing.
“Okay, ma.” He chuckles. “You’re seeing it.”
It’s not a question. He’s stating fact in that smug tone, and I hate it and him even more because of the accuracy.
Bitch.
“All I’m seeing are the hours of sleep passing me by because you won’t get to the point of this little visit.” I cross my arms over my chest. Fuck pride. I can’t die on that hill when my nipples are saluting like good little well-trained soldiers. “Now, please. Explain how my idea of entering hell on earth would be in my best interest.”
“Because I assume you enjoy living.”