The Sweetest Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) by Amber Scott Read Free Book Online

comparisons. She doubted the real man could even compare to her memory of him.
    “No, I know that. I didn’t mean that. What I meant was, let’s do something that we won’t be able to do once we’re married. Let’s get a little wild, but do it together. As a way to leave unmarried life and enter marital commitment.”
    Claire frowned again. What the hell was he aiming at? It had better not be what she thought he was saying. She shut up, waiting for him to spit it out.
    “You know what my number-one fantasy is, right? I know that you swear you’ve never been curious, but the fact is. …”
    Yep, it was what she thought. And it was laughable that he was trying this gimmick yet again. She should have known. Refined, educated, and classy, deep down Oliver was like every other guy out there. All but one, that is. Jace would never have shared her. Not with a woman, or a man.
    “Let’s have a threesome,” Oliver said, sitting up and using his hands in the animated way she’d seen him use in court. His black hair shone in the light.
    If not for thirty days, two families, and a hundred and seventy-five guests, Claire might have shoved her ring up his nose if not for this being a tired old tale. Oliver did this whenever he got insecure. Eventually, they’d get down to that fact. It took everything in her to remember as much.
    “We could share something wild, together, before we’re married and just can’t consider it anymore. Let’s do it. Let’s be erotic, and make a naughty memory that will pale in comparison to any bachelor party.” He steepled his hands and pointed them at her. “What do you think?”
    Claire stammered, unable to capture a single word for a good thirty seconds. What did she think? That he was an asshole? That he’d never find a woman willing to jump into their bed in a month’s time, even if Claire was game. And how did this all of a sudden become a reasonable idea?
    “What do I think?” she finally spit out through gritted teeth. She pulled the sheets up over her breasts. “Are you getting cold feet? Oliver, how many times have we had this fight how many times? Why are you doing this now?”
    “Whoa, hey. It doesn’t have to be a fight. Look, before you say no, think about it. That’s all I ask.” He ran his hand over the white sheets covering her legs. Her skin still crawled. “All I’m asking you for is to be a little daring. To at least consider it. Think about how special we could make it.”
    Claire’s mouth fell open, but no words came. Think about it? She had no need to. But she did need to think about why this urge reared up again. It had been a good two years since this fight. At least. It all centered on the what-if conversation.
    Early in their relationship, She made the mistake of broaching a stupid idea. The what if game. She’d been dreaming about Jace for a solid month. Now, she’d never live the conversation down. This wasn’t about him living out a fantasy. This was about her what-if.
    She’d told him too much about Jace.
    Suggesting a third party was his way of soothing his fears, or maybe reminding her he could want another, too. If not for the hundred plus guests and everything else about their relationship being absolutely solid—everything she grew up thinking a marriage would look like, she’d dump him.
    How mature would dumping him be, though?
    So she glared him down instead.
    Oliver kissed her hand before she could snatch it away, rolled on his back, and turned up the volume on a reality game show. For all appearances, he’d just asked about her day. For all appearances, he didn’t doubt her feelings.
    Claire let out a long breath and couldn’t help wondering how in the world she’d gotten herself to this place in life. And a small voice asked if it was where she wanted to be at all. She’d thought so. She really had. But now ...
    Jace’s face flashed in her mind. The one funny eyebrow. The bright blue of his eyes that were tiny dots of color.