Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Fitch's pupils contracted sharply, his breathing uneven.

Zoey, on the other hand, looked on with longing. "I really want to go in there. It feels like something is calling me."

Fitch remained silent.

Zoey reached for the car door, intent on seeing for herself.

Suddenly, her wrist was grasped firmly, and Fitch pulled her into his embrace.

The assistant in the front had wisely raised the divider, leaving them in their own private space in the back.

Held tightly in his arms, Zoey wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she felt him trembling with fear.

But who was Fitch? The true scion of the Greenfield dynasty, sitting atop a vast fortune. How could he ever feel fear?

"Don't go," he uttered, holding her close.

Zoey didn't know what to say, forgetting even to struggle.

She couldn't understand Fitch's reaction, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

Fitch suddenly looked up, pressing her down.

His lips quickly found hers.

Zoey's eyes widened, pushing against him weakly.

her strength was nothing against

"Mmm, let go."

on her waist tightened, and through the thin fabric, Zoey could feel his warmth pressing

with heat, forgetting

came to her senses,

clothing remained impeccable, his large hand at

to breathe,

blurring like a swaying landscape painting, too drained to even think about the building she had wanted to see. "Stop,

more brazen, she wished

into the ground

embarrassment.

his shoulder, her body

became more mind refusing to think her head buried, ostrick-like,

SE

under her shirt, igniting sparks

weaker, a sheen of sweat on her

his lips causing havoc at

sharply, collapsing completely in his

when she realized

couldn't believe

immense shame, she

"Let go."

she couldn't keep

where he learned