Chapter 1
I always felt my husband was forced to marry me.
Every time we were intimate, Parker only used his hands.
13.05
Eventually, I gave up and decided to set him free. But the night before printing the divorce papers, I overhea-
rd him with his friends.
“Why not touch your wife? She’s right there,” one said.
“Nora might run off if you keep holding back.”
Parker sipped his whiskey. “You don’t understand. She’s delicate. What if I scare her?”
His voice deepened. “She’s my wife. I must cherish her. If she finds what I can’t give elsewhere… fine. As
long as she comes home to me.”
His friends laughed. “Then why secretly Google everything?”
That night, I checked Parker’s history–99 searches, all variations of:
“I finally married the girl I love, but I have a kink. How do I not scare her away?”
1
The day Parker came back from his business trip, I had a battle plan.
I showered, shaved, and put on a full face of makeup before slipping into the new, sinfully sheer nightgown I‘
d bought. Then, I slid into his side of the bed, waiting to be conquered,
But when he walked out of the bathroom, the sight of me in his sheets made him freeze, the towel in his
hands stilled mid–rub.
“What are you doing here?”
There wasn’t a trace of warmth in his voice.
My eyes
roamed over him, from top to bottom. Parker’s body was a work of art; even the plush bathrobe cou- Idn’t hide the swell of his pectoral muscles or the faint outline of his abs. Logically, with a nose that sharp and fingers that long, he had to be… well–equipped.
And yet, in six months of marriage, I had never been allowed to get a “deeper” understanding.
Refusing to be deterred, I decided to be direct.
“I’m here to sleep with you.”
I didn’t care what excuses he came up with. Tonight, he was mine.
Parker’s expression flickered. His gaze dropped to my lingerie, and after a long pause, he gave a clipped, “Fi-
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Chapter 1
ne.”
That easy?
13.06 08
I was in disbelief. As he approached the bed, I felt a wave of uncertainty. The only light came from the small, mood–setting lamp on the nightstand. He lay down beside me, a wave of cool air and the clean scent of soap washing over me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I boldly wrapped my arms around his waist.
