Curvy Fake Wife for the Player Read Online Piper Sullivan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
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And I let him. Hell, I encouraged it, pressing my curves against him and holding him tighter. I wanted more. I needed more, and that thought scared the hell out of me.

I pulled back with wide eyes, heart pounding as I realized just how much I wanted this man. “I, um, I need to go do…something.” And then like the coward I was, I ran and locked myself in my room.

Chapter 23

Alex

“Go on, taste it.” I held a fork of red velvet cake with a tangy buttercream frosting out to Sasha who looked like I was holding nuclear waste for her to taste. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”

The way she bit down on her bottom lip was enough to make my cock stand at attention. She was hesitant and I couldn’t understand why. Just yesterday I’d kissed the hell out of her and she’d clung to me like I was hers, like all of this was real. That was before she ran away like her ass was on fire.

“I can do it myself.”

“Of course you can,” I replied and rolled my eyes. “But there’s a piece right here already. Taste it,” I urged and pushed the fork closer until the frosting touched her lips. “Please.”

She licked the frosting from her top lip and every inch of me was hard and aching, ready to relive the last time I’d had her naked and spread out before me. “Fine.” Sasha’s lips parted into a sinful ‘o’ and I groaned as I slid the fork between her lips. “Mmm,” she moaned, her blue eyes wide with appreciation. “Very good.”

I leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile. “Think we can get some of this buttercream to go?” I wiggled my eyebrows until she laughed.

“I’m sure if you use your charm, she’ll give you a bucket of it.”

I leaned back with a laugh. “A bucket? That’s ambitious, but I’m up for the challenge.”

“Okay.” The pastry chef appeared at the small round table with another set of dessert plates in his hands. “This is German chocolate cake. It’s not traditional for a wedding cake, but I was told it was the bride’s favorite. I didn’t like the way he eyed Sasha with a flirty smile, but I reigned in my temper. All of this effort would be useless if I decked the guy tasked with making our wedding cake.

“Really?” Her blue eyes were wide as she smiled at me. “You told him?” She practically danced in her seat, clapping her hands giddily. “I’ve never had German chocolate cake made by a professional before.”

The chef was so pleased that he served her first, not the famous athlete, but I was fine with it. Sasha had this way about her, of making everyone feel good, from egotistical chefs to even more egotistical hockey players.

“I hope it meets your expectations,” he told her and disappeared to give us time to taste and decide.

This time, Sasha didn’t have to be asked to taste the cake, she took one bite and then another, and then another, moaning louder with every bite. “Oh. My. God. This is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

I stared at her face, lit up with excitement over cake. I couldn’t remember the last woman I was with who even noticed the food beyond its calorie and carb count. “Absolutely perfect?”

She nodded and her face split into a smile. “Oh yeah. Taste it,” she said and held her fork out to me.

I didn’t wait, I held her wrist and slid the cake from the fork, my gaze never leaving hers. “Holy shit, that is good.”

“Right?” She looked down at her plate with a frown when she found it empty and slid her arm across the table to steal my plate.

I gripped her wrist and arched a brow. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She blinked innocently. “I’m cake tasting. Duh.” One finger hooked over the edge of the plate and pulled it closer.

“My cake.”

“Our cake,” she smiled. “We’re engaged, remember?”

“Okay,” I agreed. “You can have some.”

She relaxed and pulled the plate closer when I grabbed the other edge. Sasha frowned. “You said I could have some.”

“I did, but only if you let me feed you.” It wasn’t right to play with her this way, but it was so fun. Sasha was running from whatever was happening between us and I couldn’t blame her. This attraction between us could be fun, or it could make the next two years incredibly complicated.

She rolled her eyes skyward. “The things I do for cake.”

“Well now I’m curious, Sash. What things do you do, or would you be willing to do, for cake?”

“Let you feed me,” she whispered when I slid the fork between her lips. “For starters.” She giggled when I growled in sexual frustration.

“Funny.”

She shrugged. “I thought so.”

“I’m marrying a comedian,” I grumbled and held out another forkful of cake for her. “Lucky me.” Sasha leaned forward to take the cake and I switched it out for my lips, kissing her again because I’d waited long enough. It had been too long, more than twelve hours since I had a taste of her and I was starving.


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