Overnight Wife(49)

“Fuck yes you did,” she breathes, in a way that makes me grin, undoes something in me.

I draw out of her, just a little, and drive back in, hard enough to draw a gasp from her lips. Then I shift my hips, doing it again, again. Before long, we find a rhythm, my cock driving into her, our hips colliding with each thrust.

Far below us, on the stage, the play goes on. The actors recite their lines. The stage hands move in the background, unseen, trained by Mara to do their jobs at the exact right times. To be the people behind the curtain, invisibly creating a fantasy world for the audience to lose themselves in.

Just like the world we’re losing ourselves in here. Only the two of us, savoring the fruits of our labor, in every sense.

When she finally comes again, it makes her whole body shake, and her knees go weak. I have to pin her against me, holding her up until I finish, coming deep inside her with a guttural groan that draws an answering moan from her lips.

We wind up staying in the booth for the whole first act. Neither of us want to leave each other’s sides. And my hands don’t want to leave her body. It doesn’t take long for us to get hot and bothered again, just by one another’s proximity. I already know, as I pull her into my arms once more, kissing her until I can feel her heartbeat against my lips, pounding in her throat—I will never be able to get enough of her.

But that won’t ever stop me trying.

By the time the lights come on at intermission, we’re a mess, but neither of us care. She straightens her hair as best she can and draws me out of the booth, back into the noise and bright lights of the theater with a huge grin on her face.

“Who’d have thought?” she calls over her shoulder as we head toward the main part of the theater, catching claps and nods of approval the whole way as we go. “That blowing off steam in Las Vegas could turn into such a productive move for both our careers.” She winks and I laugh, pulling her back to my side to steal another kiss from her.

“Not to mention a productive move for our whole lives.” I bring my palm to rest against her belly. “It might have been a crazy move for both of us, Mara, but I have to say… I chose the right woman to elope with that night.”

She laughs and leans up to tweak my nose. “Hope you don’t have any regrets lingering, because it’s way too late to apply for that annulment.”

“Believe me, Mara.” I cup her cheek in my hand. “Marrying you is the best decision I’ve ever made.”

She sinks into my kiss again, and just then, as we’re pressed together, I feel it. A gentle little kick, as our son pushes between us. It makes us both laugh, and I bring my palms to rest against her belly. My parents might have been assholes to Mara, but they were right about one thing—family is everything.

And this little family, the three of us? They’re the most important thing in my whole world.



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He never wanted a wife. Until he met her.

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Chapter One

Jasper



60 miles per hour.

70.

80.





85.


I floor the gas pedal, a wild grin on my face as I careen toward the corner of the track.

“Jasper…” warns a voice in my ear.

“I’ve got this,” I murmur, in response to my usual test track monitor, safely above in a booth, watching me and this brand new gem of a car speed around the test track.

“We haven’t tested the tires on curves yet. Slow down to a more reasonable—”

I reach up and tap the headset attached to the crash helmet. The voice fades away. My smile widens.

The turn approaches. I swing the wheel hard. I feel the tires skid under the car, and for a pulse-stopping, heart-in-my-throat instant, I worry if the voice in my helmet was right. If I’ve taken the curve too fast, put too much stress on this new model, a car that hasn’t even been unveiled to the public yet, let alone tested by the scientists and engineers who oversee the production of all new car regulations in the country.

If the car skids, flips, this could be it…

But then I feel the rubber screech, catch purchase again, and I rev the engine, accelerating with the turn instead of against it, so the car flows around the sharp turn of the track smooth as a knife through butter.

Safely onto the straightaway once more, I let out a loud whoop and gun it. I watch the speedometer leap up to 100, 120, 140… Higher. Faster.

I love this. I love getting to drive cars like this, and really put them through their paces. Drive them the way they’re built to be driven—with abandon, and without road laws getting in the way. Germany has it right, I think briefly. If only the United States had its own autobahn. One road, one spot where people could let loose.

But, of course, that’s a pipe dream for another time. For now, I’ll have to settle for this closed test track, and the chance to pacify my inner speed demon from time to time—and earn a paycheck for it, no less.

I reach the makeshift finish line, really just a little dugout where we modify and prep the cars for the track, and squint through the visor of my crash helmet at my assistant, Greg.