Hitched Volume 1 (Imperfect Love Book #1)

Olivia

Win me over, Noah says. Real husband.NôvelDrama.Org © content.

There’s nothing real about this. He can call this trial period “dating” if he wants, but all I’m after is reassurance that we’ll mesh as co-CEOs. No need to confuse the issue with love or sex, no matter how dangerously attractive he is. I just have questions that need answers.

For instance, what made him take me to the mail room today? He practically dragged me downstairs. Whatever his reason, he thinks it’s important. Was he trying to give me a reality check, remind me that I’m not the only one with problems around here, so I should suck it up? Or was he just trying to show me his warm fuzzy side?

If the latter was his goal, it kind of worked. I have to admit that Rosita and Noah act adorable together. Almost like mother and son. The most stone-faced person on Earth would smile at their affection. And it’s not like I ever thought Noah lacked integrity or kindness, just the finer points of self-discipline. I have plenty of evidence to believe that getting closer to him won’t be so bad.

But while I can hazard guesses all day, I want to hear Noah’s explanation in his own words. And we’re overdue for a topic change anyway.

“Why did you introduce me to Rosita?” I ask.

“To show you what’s at stake.”

Despite fully anticipating it, his holier-than-thou tone still makes my lip curl. “As if I had no clue about the gravity of our situation. That’s the whole point of doing this trial period-to see how well we can play ball together before committing to a team-up. I’m doing my best to become friends with you, so . . .”

He tilts his head with a half smile. “Just friends? I’ve got my sights set a little higher.”

Gee, I never would have guessed, what with his constant attempts to steer the conversation toward sex.

I quirk one eyebrow in skepticism. “Friendship is all we need to pull this thing off. And we’re pretty much starting from square one . . . I would call us acquaintances, at best. Don’t you think you’re being a little overambitious?”

“Nope,” he replies, cocky smile still firmly in place.

I roll my eyes. “Wow. Your arrogance truly has no limits.”

“If I can put my money where my mouth is . . .” His lustful smirk makes it clear exactly where he’d like to put his mouth. “Then it’s not arrogance. Just confidence.”

“What makes you think I would want more with you, anyway? You aren’t exactly my type.”

I expect him to just give me a knowing look, or maybe toss back some mild innuendo. What I absolutely did not expect was, “Because I have a nine-inch cock.”

I almost choke on my martini for a third time. I splutter, “Is that number supposed to impress me?” Does he seriously expect me to believe that kind of porn-star bullshit?

“It’s the truth,” he purrs, leaning slightly closer. “And I know how to use it. Along with my tongue, my hands . . . just ask any woman I’ve been with.”

“Spare me the play-by-play. You’ve fucked half of New York City. I’m willing to believe that you learned something in the process.”

“First, I haven’t fucked half of New York. Believe it or not, I’m pretty discerning. Second, instead of hearsay, why not just see for yourself?”

I give him a skeptical look. “You want to show me your dick?”

“If it’ll help convince you.” He drains the last drops of his Scotch and stands up. “Come on, let’s go.”

I stare after him as he walks away.

Is he serious? He’s just going to whip it out? I look around to see if anyone is watching me, then I get up and follow him to the bar’s back hallway, near the restrooms, unable to comprehend why the hell I’m humoring him. This is ridiculous.

Once we’re safely in a private corner, Noah undoes his belt, opens his fly . . . and pulls out a fucking fire hose.

Holy mother of God. My hands fly to my mouth. I want to gasp in shock, but there’s no way I’m giving him the upper hand.

He was right. His cock is nothing short of massive, and it’s not even fully erect right now. Nine inches may actually be a conservative estimate of what it might look like hard. He must destroy men’s egos every time he walks into a locker room. And I don’t even want to think about what he destroys with women . . .

“Meh. I’ve seen bigger,” I force out, fighting to maintain my composure.

Noah chuckles. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Well, th-that monster is not coming anywhere near my uterus. No, thank you. I prefer to keep my organs intact.”

Noah’s grin widens. “I doubt that, but just to be on the safe side, I’ll ease it in nice and slow. Piece of cake. Plus, you’ve got good health insurance, right?”

“That is not funny, Noah. Now, put that thing away or I’ll remove it.”

I try to sound stern, but my shaking voice and bright red cheeks surely give me away. Why the hell can’t I stop staring?

He chuckles-yeah, the jerk can definitely see right through me-but he obliges, tucking the beast back into its lair.

I try to compose myself as we head back to the bar. Once seated, as coolly as I can, I say, “This doesn’t change my opinion, you know.”

“Really? Not at all?” He raises his eyebrows.

Of course, seeing his dick made an impression. How could it not? But I’ll be damned if I stroke his . . . ego any more than I already have.

“Look, this whole dating thing is just to prove that we can live and work together. You don’t need to go for extra credit.”

“But what if I want to?”

“Noah . . .”

“Would you at least be willing to try it? We could start super slow. Set strict limits. Like, say . . .” He waves his hand vaguely. “Nothing past first base.”

“A trial run within a trial run,” I say slowly, tasting the idea. I’m a little skeptical, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to fool around a little. I can always call game over if I’m feeling underwhelmed.

“Exactly. Just testing the waters. We can pretend we’re back in high school or something.”

I take a long sip of my drink, considering. Then I reply, “I’ll think about it.”