Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(46)

The amusement in his eyes was replaced by something much more heated. “How far would you have gone?”

“What?”

“With the twelve-year-old? How far?”

Oh my God, what was he accusing her of? “He wasn’t twelve, and hello . . . you challenged me.”

“Is that all it takes? A dare?”

His angry questions made her blood boil. She snapped her hand out of his. “You started it.”

“He was pawing you.”

“He was trying to pick me up.”

“And getting somewhere, apparently.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What is this? Jealousy?”

Victor opened his mouth, closed it.

“You have no right to be jealous. I’ve known you for what, six days? All you’ve done was toss a couple compliments and flirtatious barbs. If I want to hook up with College Boy, I will!”

Victor’s nose flared, tension snapped in the air.

“Fine,” he gritted out between his teeth.

“Fine!” Shannon turned on her heel and made it three steps.

Victor caught up with her, grabbed her hand, and spun her around. “Not fine.”

His lips crashed down to hers, heated with the same emotion she felt bursting from her skin.

She sucked in a breath, stunned still, and let him fold her into his arms.

Victor kissed her with such fierce abandon the only thing she could do was hold on and try to breathe. Her mouth was open, gasping, and he was laying claim everywhere he could.

He’s kissing me.

Oh, God, it had been so long.

The scent of him, the need in him . . . in her.

Shannon’s body caught up with his. She tilted her head and kissed him back, full, open-mouth kisses that skipped anything timid and went right into overdrive. Raw and needy, she wrapped her arms around his back, dug her fingernails into his shirt.

His hands were in her hair, the back of her neck, her spine. He didn’t let her up for air, just kept kissing her for what felt like hours.

Only when his pace slowed down and his kiss became softer did her brain engage. Bad idea . . . it didn’t matter that she wanted this man or that her body was damn near begging for him.

Perfect timing for a baby.

The second the thought popped in her head, Shannon slammed on the brakes. She dragged her swollen mouth away from his. “I can’t.” Her breath came in pants.

“You want this,” he whispered.

No denying her desire, her reactions proved he was right. “But I can’t do this to you.”

He smiled down at her in the moonlight.

Slowly, their breathing returned to normal.

“I want to see you again.”

“We aren’t leaving until—”

“Back home,” he clarified.

She wanted to deny him. “Victor—”

“In three months. Give me three months and then give me a chance.”

What the hell was she supposed to say to that?

He lifted a palm to the side of her face, traced her lower lip with his thumb. “Wait for me. Let me be the next man to kiss these lips.”

“Victor . . .”

“Please, Shannon.”

Three months? Her emotions clashed with common sense. Confusion muddled her brain. “Where did the asshole I met on the plane go?” she asked.

He reached around to the back of her head, moved in close. “A woman in a white bikini chased him away.”

He kissed her one last time, slowly. Thoroughly.



“He was pissed! Holy shit, I didn’t think he could come out of his seat fast enough when that guy started touching you.”

Shannon listened to Avery’s take on what went down at the table after she’d left. They lounged in the plunge pool, as they had nearly every night they’d been in Tulum. The price of the room was worth every penny to shed the suit and swim naked. Maybe the people on the nude beach had found the answer to life.

“He doesn’t have a right to be jealous.”

“Maybe not. But he was seething.”

Shannon had told Avery that he’d kissed her the second they walked away from the bar. Avery’s response was a hard look at her lips and a comment about bruises.

“He asked me to wait for him, Avery.”

“What do you mean?”

“Three months. He asked me to wait three months and allow him to see me.”

Avery pushed to the other side of the small pool and looked her in the eye. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I mean, I didn’t agree, didn’t disagree. He isn’t what I expected. He was a total piece of work when I met the man, and now . . .”

“Not so much,” Avery finished for her.

“Not so much.”

“What do you have to lose?”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if he turns back into the selfish guy he was on the plane?”

“Then you cut him off and go back to your other plan. Consider this: What if you’d met him a month from now, two months from now, and Steve-o at the bar ended up being Mr. Baby Daddy? Call me naive, but a pregnant girlfriend who is carrying a child that isn’t yours is a little harder to juggle.”

Avery’s logic rang true.