The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,76

on his lap this time. The blanket was down by his feet, leaving her clothed in nothing but moonlight and sweat. Her hands dug into his shoulders and her eyes closed in pleasure as she arched her back, trying to push him deeper with each movement. Several strands of hair clung to her shoulders, but the rest hung behind her. He held her hips as she rode him with increasing urgency, and in that perfect moment he was sure of two things. One, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and two, there was no way he could walk away from her. And since he saw no way to be honest with her, to work out the tangled web he’d spent the past day weaving, he was in deep, deep trouble. His only hope was for a miracle.

But no matter what, she was his for tonight and he wasn’t going to waste a single minute.

Chapter Eighteen

Megan awoke in Josh’s arms. She expected to be more startled by that fact, but lying next to him felt like the most natural thing in the world. He was on his back, an arm stretched over his eyes to block out the sun.

She watched his chest rise and fall. He had a very nice chest—hard muscles covered with just a little hair but not too much. The edge of the blanket rested above his waist, and she saw a hint of his abdomen. She knew what lay under the blanket, and memories of the night before rushed back, making her burn, but not with embarrassment. Not for one minute did she regret sleeping with him. What happened next was a whole lot trickier. She liked him. A lot. She lusted for him. A lot. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone. He made her laugh and made her feel lighthearted, and part of her cringed when she let herself look toward tomorrow.

Would they have a tomorrow? After Josh broke up with her and her family sent him back to Seattle. Back to her adopted hometown. She was smart enough to realize that Josh was a forever kind of guy. But they’d gone along with this deception for so long—how could she step back and say, “Sorry everyone, this was all one big mistake”?

“Hey,” Josh murmured sleepily, cracking his eyes open. “I know you’re probably into those Twilight books and movies, but it’s actually kind of creepy for someone to watch another person sleep all night.”

“You think I spent the night watching you sleep?” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her mouth finding his earlobe.

“Did we even have much of a chance to sleep?” he asked, rolling onto his side to face her.

“Not much.”

He laughed. “Good thing you’re on the pill, or we would’ve had to make a midnight run for more condoms.” His eyes blinked open sleepily, and a smile spread across his face. “Good morning.”

She smiled back. “Yes, it is.”

“You’re not one of those happy morning people, are you?” he murmured. “Because if you are, I may have to end this fake engagement right now.”

“Let me guess, you don’t function until after a cup of coffee?”

“Actually, it’s two cups. And yes. Coffee is the elixir of the gods.”

Her brown eyes danced in amusement. “Are you calling yourself a god now?”

“You were a participant in last night’s activities, so you tell me.”

She laughed and settled her face into his chest. An ache filled his heart as he held her close, stroking her hair. He had to figure a way out of this. Could they just come clean and tell her family the truth, making it into a funny story? One thing was for sure: Her mother would never forgive them. Megan’s mother’s opinion was important to her, no matter what she claimed. And that wasn’t even taking into account the problem of Bart Vandemeer’s business.

What a screwed-up mess.

“How about I take you out for breakfast?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked, her voice muffled.

He leaned back, tipping her chin up to look at him. “Megan Vandemeer, would you do me the honor of letting me escort you to the International House of Pancakes?”

Her laughter lit her eyes. “How can I refuse such a gallant request? But I’m warning you that I’m a big breakfast eater—much to my mother’s dismay—so don’t expect me to order an egg-white omelet and black coffee.”

He tried to keep his face