Home > Possess Me Slowly (Shattered #2)(13)

Possess Me Slowly (Shattered #2)(13)
Author: Joya Ryan

I shook my head and for some reason tears started rising to the surface. This was too much. Too weird. How had my life taken such a wrong turn? A year ago I had graduated college with a mission to take on the world, have a husband who loved me and a family that wasn’t in financial ruins. Apparently that had been too much to hope for.

Nothing was easy, and the rainbows I had been thinking would somehow shoot out of the world’s ass and glitter over my life were long gone. My parents were on the brink of bankruptcy and losing the house I grew up in. My father was the one who taught me to work for what you wanted. But he was losing his mind and I was running out of options. The dreams of happiness and success looked more like a glitchy hologram than a reality.

“Megan,” Preston pulled me back to attention. “I have the contract. It’s simple and profitable for both of us.”

“And you think that if we just play the part of the happy couple your father will give you what you want?”

“Yes.”

“What about your brother? Won’t he be upset? Won’t someone notice that some random girl just popped up out of nowhere?”

“No. I travel a lot and keep my personal life very private. My family doesn’t involve themselves in my affairs aside from business.”

“But what about your mom? Mom’s always know—”

“She died when I was thirteen.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“That’s unnecessary.” He shifted in his seat. The issue of his mom was clearly uncomfortable. But he recovered quickly. Calm shoulders and hard face fell back in place. “Charlie may be the first born, but he will sink the company if he gets the majority and my father knows that. The old man is adamant about a damn legacy though.”

“But you have no intention of giving him that.”

“Doesn’t matter. Once we’re married, he’ll assume we will have children and I won’t let him think otherwise. That will be enough.”

“This seems so…wrong.”

“Does it?” He sat back in his chair in a way I was beginning to recognize. He did this when he held the upper hand. “We are two consenting adults. We’re sexually compatible and have something to gain from the other. If more people discussed the pitfalls and terms of this sort of arrangements more marriages would last.”

“Yeah, but ours has an expiration of three years, so essentially your point doesn’t matter because we’ll end in divorce anyway despite our discussion.”

He grinned. “Yes, but I can promise that it will be an enjoyable three years.”

His voice held a dark edge and his eyes ran down the length of my body. My skin pricked and my br**sts tingled, suddenly feeling very heavy. He was not like anything I’d ever encountered. Hard and playful. Blunt and logical. Yet there was an animalistic side that I’d bet rarely got unleashed. I had seen it the other night and my confused body was already grappling for another taste. Which wasn’t helpful.

“You said the other day that you wanted three things from a relationship: trust, respect and connection.” He counted on his fingers. “You also wanted to know what you were getting into. I’ve acquiesced to all your requests. I am laying out everything I want and asking you if you agree. No lies. No secrets. You have full disclosure. You also have my respect and it’s no secret that we connect well.”

Good lord, the man was sexy when he smiled. I had to remind myself to stay reasonable.

“And how long will that respect last?”

He grinned. “You mean, will I be faithful to you?”

“No.” Yes.

“I would view this as a legitimate marriage. Which means yes, I would be faithful and expect the same from you.”

I rubbed my temples because I was pretty certain my brain was suffocating from lack of oxygen and misfiring of synapses.

“I just…this is all so clinical.”

I heard him move, but didn’t look up to follow him. His breath was instantly on the back of my neck. He stood behind me and reached around to place his hands on the armrests of my chair, caging me in from behind.

“Does it help to know that I’m painfully attracted to you?” He moved his head to the other side and kissed my earlobe. “That I have thought of nothing but that night, with you sprawled out beneath me.” Kiss. “I can still feel my c**k deep inside you.” Nip. “Feel your lips on my neck and your nails in my back.”

I shuttered out a breath. My whole body was singing and begging for him. I clenched my fists to keep from reaching out.

“We’d make a good couple, Megan. Just because it’s unconventional doesn’t mean it’s clinical.”

He drew away and came to stand in front of me, leaning back against the edge of his desk. If I hadn’t believed his words, the obvious bulge in his pants would have given him away.

God, I wanted this man. So much that I’d thought of little else. But the rollercoaster of the last few days was wearing me down hard. I came in today expecting to get fired and instead had a marriage proposal and a way to take care of my parents offered to me.

With that kind of money I could afford a full-time nurse.

“Three years, and I can use the money however I want.”

He nodded. “The money I give you is yours. The lump sum will be paid out at the end of the contract but, yes, in the meantime, the money I give you weekly is yours to do with as you’d like. Your basic needs, living expenses and the wedding costs I will take care of separately.”

“And no children?” I needed to reaffirm that concept.

“No. Actually,” he glanced over his shoulder, “should you get pregnant, it will void the contract and you get nothing.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but what? I didn’t want to have a child with someone I didn’t love. I didn’t want to argue, but this clause—along with everything else—seemed odd.

It wasn’t until I took a deep breath and thought about it, that it began making sense. A child was a tie to someone forever. Child support, legal fees, alimony and God knew what kind of trouble could come from dragging a paternity suit through family court for someone with assets like Preston Strauss.

Too much information was coating my mind. I thought of what my dad would say. A piercing pain stuck me in the ribs. My father wouldn’t say much, because he struggled to even remember who I was.

Something very deep and very raw bubbled from the core of my soul and threatened my composure. I always thought my father would be there when I got married. Thought he’d walk me down the aisle and give me away. At the rate things were going, he may not even know me in a few months. Fake wedding or not, this may be the only chance I had for him to be a part of something like this. The realization was icing on this f**ked-up cake I was being offered.

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