lit up every nerve along the way.
I scrabbled, trying to push myself down on him, trying to establish a handhold against the rolling pleasure. I would not last too much longer, not like this.
Chris shifted slightly, pummeling my pussy with short hard thrusts that seemed to shoot pleasure right through me. My lips parted, and I let out a long piercing cry. “Oh, oh, Chris... please!...”
The orgasm crashed through me. My ecstatic moan echoed through the house.
Still jackhammering into me, Chris let out an impressive groan himself, spilling out.
We sprawled there for a few moments. Then Chris picked me up, kissed me softly, and carried me to bed, where he wrapped himself around me gently, like he loved me.
I woke up when the door to the master suite opened. Chris came in with a tray of breakfast and a pot of tea.
“Smells amazing,” I said as he came over to kiss me.
“I figured you earned breakfast in bed,” he joked.
I threw the covers off.
“I’m actually not coordinated enough to manage breakfast in bed,” I admitted, “but I will take breakfast in the sitting area.”
The sun was streaming through the window, which looked out onto a back garden.
I nibbled a piece of bacon while Chris came back to the table with an envelope.
“So I didn’t just bring you down here for the event,” he said, handing me the envelope. “I also wanted to celebrate a major milestone in our relationship.”
I opened the envelope and burst into tears.
Chris looked horrified.
“Grace,” he said, uncertainty in his voice, “we agreed we were going to divorce.”
Pull yourself together, I scolded myself. He wasn’t in love with you. He was probably just drunk. This wasn’t real, this was never real, so get it together. Don’t be like Addison.
“Sorry,” I said, taking a sip of orange juice. “Of course we’re going to divorce.”
Chris was eyeing me warily, eyes narrowed.
“Honestly. See?” I said, picking up the pen. “I’m signing it right now.”
“You don’t have to,” he said, starting to backtrack. “I can hire you your own lawyer. We can work something out.”
“I’m not taking your money,” I snapped at him, hugging the papers to my chest so he couldn’t take them. “We shook hands. You had to put up with my naked grandmother in your living room. Fair is fair.”
“Then why were you crying?”
“Because,” I said, trying to come up with a plausible lie. “I never wanted to be a divorcée. I work in weddings. It’s humiliating. The brides always ask if I’m married. If I tell them I’m divorced, it’s awkward and sad. If we could have just gotten an annulment…” I sighed. “It would have been better. Then I could honestly say I’d never been married.”
Chris’s eyes widened slightly.
“Now I’m a sad sack,” I said bitterly. “I’ll never find a decent guy who wants to put up with this kind of baggage. There will be questions. When I meet his parents, they’re going to be like, ‘Oh, you brought a divorcée home. Well then.’”
I blew my nose.
Chris looked guilty. “I’m sorry,” he began.
“Don’t be,” I retorted, beginning to sign my name on the spots marked with the yellow tabs. “We’re both adults. We both made the decision to sleep together and void the annulment option. It is what it is.”
I let out a loud breath and finished signing the last of the papers.
“Thank you,” Chris said sincerely when I handed them back to him. “I’ll have these filed as soon as we return.”
“Sure thing,” I chirped, determined not to be that girl. “Just keep me posted in case I decide to order a mail-order husband from Morocco or something!”
Chris glowered at me. “I don’t want you to do that.”
Annoyed, I stuffed another piece of bacon in my mouth.
“You can’t dictate my life.”
“Yes, I can,” Chris insisted.
“You’re not my husband.” I stabbed at the papers with my knife. “We’re divorced.”
“I know,” Chris said stubbornly. “But I want a chance to have a relationship with you after all this is over. With the awkward first kiss and the walks along the harbor, and going to see movies that we think are going to be good but are actually really terrible, but you make us stay because you want to get a second bag of free popcorn.”
He gazed at me with those perfect blue eyes. “Don’t you want to date me, Grace?”
I jumped up and threw my arms around him, kissing him noisily.
“Of course I will date you after our divorce!” I said happily.
“Good,” he said, then grinned. “Who