Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
But … I’d tried that. It had come to nothing. More, love had given me no guarantees in the past.
Love hadn’t stopped my exes from later hurting me in some way; it hadn’t meant they remained loyal; it hadn’t ensured that—in the case of Grayden—they didn’t leave me for someone else.
Maybe I was just bad at choosing men. But then … Lake hadn’t been a bad choice. And honestly, neither had Dax—he might not have loved me, but he hadn’t hurt me. He hadn’t broken my faith, hadn’t tried using me to further his ambitions, hadn’t cared about my trust fund in any sense.
The things he was now saying … I wasn’t stupid. I knew he was playing on my fears by painting a picture of what could be my life at thirty-five if I continued having such bad luck with relationships. That didn’t mean it wasn’t working.
One of the reasons it was working so well was that there were more risks of pregnancy-related complications for women in their thirties. I’d already miscarried once before—that was four years ago, and very few people knew about it. I didn’t want to have to go through that again; didn’t want to increase the risks. Which made me feel even more pressured to find something serious.
“We could make it work, Addison,” he said, still so cool and confident.
I turned to face him. “And you’re ready for marriage? Parenthood?”
“I am. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. But do you really see this as the right route to go down?”
He pushed to his feet. “Arranged marriages aren’t rare, you know. They happen all over the world for one reason or another. They may, in many cases, be more like business transactions—at least initially. But a successful marriage can still be built on one.”
“Our fling didn’t go anywhere, so why would you think we’d have a chance at making a marriage work? That’s a little backwards, if you ask me.”
Lazily making his way toward me, he said, “We didn’t try to make what we had work. We decided it would be temporary because we were focused on other things—for you, college; for me, business. We also weren’t on the same page when it came to what we had in mind for the future. That’s no longer a factor.” He halted a mere foot away. “I’m sure you heard about my exes who sold their stories.”
I nodded.
“What bothers me more is that those relationships proved to be a waste of my time and energy—I’m not a man who wastes either, and I don’t intend to do it again.” He tilted his head. “Do you not resent how much time you lost to the relationships you strived to make work?”
I exhaled heavily. “Yes.”
For me, it wasn’t merely about having wasted my time and energy, though. It was also about hope. I’d invested so much of it in each serious relationship, I’d thrown myself into them, wanting so bad for them to amount to something. They never did.
“Then you understand,” he said.
I did. I got why our fallback pact would appeal to him. He’d given up on trying to build a real and long-lasting relationship with someone. Sealing business deals was what he did best; what he knew. And so he was taking that approach to secure the future he sought.
He smoothly glided closer, inadvertently blanketing me with the masculine, intoxicating scent of his cologne—as if he wasn’t potent enough without it. “You already know what it is to be mine, so you know what you’d be walking into. More to the point, you know you can rely on me. You know I don’t need your money or your connections.” Heat bled into his eyes. “And you know we suit well in bed.”
The low, deep pitch of his voice sent a wave of goosebumps sweeping up my arms. My body knew that pitch. Responded to it instantly, tightening; tingling; firing up.
“Just the same, I know what I’d be walking into. You’re dependable. Honest. Principled. Not a user—I’ve known too many of those.” He dipped his head slightly, his eyes darkening. “You also take my cock like it’s what you exist for.”
Those words were like a tongue dragging its way up my spine. The fucker could wield dirty talk like a sexual weapon. “Don’t.”
One brow slid up. “Don’t what?”
“Use that bedroom voice on me or hit me with trigger words.”
“I’ll use whatever I have in my arsenal to get what I want.”
Not a shocker. “It doesn’t bother you that this wouldn’t be a, you know, love match?”
“No. I’ve known plenty of couples who walked down an aisle because they loved each other, but then they later divorced. Love doesn’t ensure that a marriage is successful.”
Well, he had a point there. “You act dismissive toward love, but you had it once. You know it’s not something to be waved away.”