Chapter 9
A man like Hansen has to steal a bride? With looks like that, a body like that, and a family background like that, he didn’t have to steal anyone.
“Yes… I’m married.”
Liam barely had time to process those words before Hansen’s next statement hit him like a freight
train.
Hansen glanced at the stunned Liam, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “To Shea. The marriage certificate’s still in my car. Want to see it?”
Liam stared at him in disbelief for a long moment, then finally gave a thumbs-up and managed a single word. “Awesome.”
Hansen really was a Grant.
After hanging up, Shea felt her strength drain away. She slumped weakly against the bed frame, then collapsed onto the carpet, curling up and hugging her knees tightly.
Her eyes fell on several bottles of liquor on the nearby cabinet. She grabbed one and took a deep
swig.
Because Suzanne hadn’t given birth to a son, Justin had disliked her since childhood.
Shea had always believed that if she behaved better and worked harder, Justin would eventually change his opinion of her and of Suzanne.
But he remained dissatisfied.
For years, she thought it was because she wasn’t good enough until, at 12 years old, she accidentally discovered that Justin had a mistress and even an illegitimate child.
“Mom, I only hid it to spare you pain. Was I wrong?”
Shea drank, questioning herself aloud, tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.
“I just… wanted a family.”
A complete family.
But her parents had drifted further and further away.
Tears fell from her cheeks onto the carpet. Shea gave a self-mocking smile, grabbed the bottle, and downed several more gulps.
Perhaps only alcohol could temporarily drown her troubles and numb this ache in her heart.
After some time, the door creaked open. Hansen slipped inside and closed it softly behind him.
It was late at night, and he had assumed Shea would already be asleep.
But when he switched on the living room nightlight, he found her slumped drunkenly on the sofa, empty bottles scattered across the coffee table.
Hansen froze, his expression clouded as memories of Shea’s ordeal surfaced. A flicker of pity crossed his eyes.
He approached the sofa quietly, gently taking the empty bottle from her hand and setting it on the nearby table.
“You idiot,” he murmured softly, bending down to lift her and carry her to her bedroom.
Shea let out a soft grunt, and suddenly, she reached out and grabbed Hansen’s tie.
With a gentle tug, she threw him off balance, and he toppled forward, landing on top of her.
Their bodies pressed close together. Shea’s breath, heavy with the scent of alcohol, washed over Hansen’s face. Their lips brushed briefly before parting, leaving a charged pause between them.
Watching Shea gaze at him with dazed eyes, Hansen felt his Adam’s apple bob.
“Shea, you…”
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Shea yanked his tie and pressed her lips to his.
The air between them thickened with each passing second, the once-cool, crisp living room slowly turning sultry.
Clothes began to slip, and just as they were about to go further, Shea whispered a name that shouldn’t have been spoken.
“Lance…”
In an instant, the heat radiating from Hansen’s body dissipated in an instant.
He released Shea, his expression dark and unreadable.
“You’re drunk,” Hansen said coldly, preparing to stand up.
“Don’t go…” Shea grabbed his arm, her gaze unfocused. “No… that’s not right…”
She shook her head, trying to focus on him.
“No… you’re not that bastard Lance. You’re better-looking than him…”
A silly grin spread across her face.
Hansen, who had been feeling uneasy, brightened instantly at her words.
“Then who do you think I am?”
He stared into her eyes, his voice low and deep.
“You’re…”
Shea’s delicate hands wrapped around Hansen, her body leaning halfway into his embrace.
“You smell so good,” she murmured, nuzzling his neck with a silly grin.
Her cheek brushed against him, her soft lips grazing his ear as she spoke.
“You’re my… my husband! My husband just smells so good!” Shea exclaimed, suddenly recalling something, her smile widening. “I could even smell it when I kissed you today!”
As she spoke, she seemed to recall the moment they had gotten married. She leaned closer to Hansen and whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret, but don’t tell anyone! My husband’s lips are so soft.”
Hansen struggled to make out her words. Her warm breath brushed against his ear and neck, and the softness of her body pressed against him as they embraced.
A wave of heat more intense than before surged through him, spreading from his chest to every limb. He felt unbearably hot, as if his entire body might ignite.
“Shea… Do you even realize what you’re saying?”
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Shea responded.
She laughed, reaching out to cup Hansen’s face with both hands.
Her pale, slender fingers traced the contours of his face, moving from his eyes to his nose and then to his lips.
“We’re married…”
Her fingers lingered on his lips, gently caressing them.
“So, you’re mine now!”
With that, Shea leaned in and kissed him.
This kiss was even more intense than the last. Their already disheveled clothes hung loosely. Several buttons of Hansen’s shirt were undone, revealing his solid, muscular chest and eight-pack abs.
Shea’s hands grew restless, roaming over his abs as she murmured incoherently, “It’s like a chocolate bar…”
Hansen’s breathing grew heavier in an instant.
He swept Shea up into his arms, carrying her horizontally, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths as his eyes followed her restless hands.
“You started this,” he said, his voice low and rough.
He carried her straight to the second floor and laid her down on the soft bed.
The room overflowed with a passion so fierce that even the bright moon outside the window seemed to blush and retreat behind the clouds.
Shea woke up with her whole body aching and her head throbbing.
“Looks like I really overdid it last night,” she thought, trying to sit up.
But something felt off. Why was she wearing pajamas?
Her body froze as she clutched her head. Then she heard a faint sound beside her. She turned her
head and froze.
Hansen was there, bare-chested, casually flipping through a magazine.
Noticing her gaze, he looked up and gave her a small smile. “You’re awake?”
Shea let out a startled scream.
She stared at Hansen in utter disbelief, words stumbling out of her mouth. “How… how did you end up in my bed?”
And he was not wearing any clothes!
What a pervert!
Amused by her reaction, Hansen set the magazine down and leaned slightly closer to her.
“What are you doing?” Shea recoiled instinctively, though there was nowhere to hide.
“Don’t these marks on me look familiar, Shea?” Hansen grinned, pointing at the red imprints scattered across his body. “Tell me… What do you think happened between us?”
It was only then that Shea noticed the suggestive marks on him. She froze, her mind blank, as
memories from last night’s drunken haze slowly resurfaced.
“You’re mine… my husband! My husband smells so sweet…
“My husband’s lips are so soft…”
“You’re mine now…”
“Chocolate bar, huh…”
Had she really said all these things to Hansen?
She was practically a female hooligan!
Shea shrieked again, overwhelmed with embarrassment. She buried herself deep under the covers, pulling the blanket tightly over her head.
She couldn’t face Hansen now!
