Overnight Wife(24)

That only makes my smile widen. I know she’s into this. She may not know it yet, but she wants this marriage every bit as much as I do.

If perhaps not for exactly the same reasons.

My phone starts to buzz again, and I frown, shutting my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose for a moment. I ignore the call, letting it go to voicemail, preferring to text rather than talk. I did what you wanted. I’ll bring her to meet you next weekend.

The moment it finishes sending, I shut my phone off, unwilling to deal with the inevitable fallout that will no doubt cause. Then I heave another deep sigh as I pull away from the curb, Mara’s house vanishing in my rearview mirror, and wonder if I’m doing the right thing.





8





Mara





After a week of working together, I’m still not sure how I feel about… well, any of this. But I love my work, and I’ve been really enjoying getting my hands dirty in the shop every day. Not to mention, training Daniel has been fun—he’s a fast learner, and ever since his first mishap with the machinery, he’s been good about asking me for help when he tries out any of the machines for the first time.

I can’t deny that it’s been nice to get to know John better, too. Most nights of the week, I stay late, and he stays in his own office until the whole place clears out. Only when there’s nobody else in the building—per my request, since the last thing I want people thinking is that I’m just some bimbo who slept her way into a job—does he come and find me, usually working next to me at the bench until I’m satisfied my work is done for the evening.

Sometimes we do other things on the bench, after the work is finished. More reasons I don’t want any of our coworkers to know the exact nature of our relationship.

But I still haven’t taken the ring off. And neither has he, I’ve noticed.

It’s raised more than a few eyebrows around the office. But at least I haven’t seen any media leaks about it yet. We seem to have lucked out in terms of avoiding the paparazzi’s attention. Part of me knows it’s only a matter of time before someone sees us together or notices John’s ring finger and starts to ask questions.

But for the moment, I’m just trying to do what John suggested after that first night out together—our first date, kind of. You can let yourself enjoy this. And I’ve been trying to.

The sex, at least, has been off the fucking charts. He seems to know my body even better than I know it myself. He’s able to draw out my desire, taunt and tease me until I’m practically screaming to come, and when he finally gives me that release, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

Last night, for example, bent over the workbench where I’m working dutifully now… The memories are hot enough to make my face flush.

“Is it too hot in here?” Daniel calls across the room, making me blush again for an entirely different reason. “I can turn the air up.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” I mumble, and turn back to my work, trying my best to stay focused on it, and not on memories of how good it felt when John knelt at the edge of the table and ran his tongue up my inner thighs, one after the next, teasing, tasting, until his tongue finally reached my pussy lips, parted and explored them slowly, until I was gasping so loudly I’m surprised the night security guard didn’t hear.

Clearly focusing is not working well today.

My phone buzzes, and I glance at it, then startle out of my seat. It’s an unknown number, but the area code is Las Vegas.

I’ve been calling and leaving voicemails at the Vegas town hall for days, after my online research into how to annul a marriage proved worthless. Everything I read told me I’d need to go back there in person, which is out of the question, at least for now. I’m too busy trying to get this big project for Pitfire out the door—it’s the first one they’ve entrusted to me. The last thing I want to do this early on is look like a flake or ask for time off—especially if I’d be taking that time off because I accidentally eloped with the CEO.

But maybe there’s a way to have this marriage annulled by mail. It won’t hurt to call them back.

I excuse myself and step out into the stairwell, which I’ve already learned is soundproof through some seriously thorough research with John, late on Wednesday night, him pinning me against the wall. Once the door shuts after me, I dial back the number, holding my breath.

“Las Vegas town hall, Valerie speaking,” answers a prim voice on the other end, and my stomach plummets.

“Hi, this is Mrs. Walloway,” I say. “I left some voicemails—”

“About the annulment process, yes. It’s quite simple, ma’am, I understand not everyone can file in person. There’s a form on our website you can print out…”

I scramble in my pocket for a piece of scrap paper and a pen to jot down notes about what she’s saying. I write down the website address, the specific form, but then her voice makes me hesitate.

“You’ll just need to mail it in to us within the next two weeks, during the the grace period for a simplified annulment. After that, I’m afraid things will get a little bit more complicated.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Two weeks. My stomach flips again, much less settled than it was earlier today. Before I knew there was a ticking clock over my head. A timeline to decide…