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    Summary

    “No, Conrad!” she practically shouted, grabbing her husband’s face in her hands and squeezing his cheeks until his lips puckered like a fish. “I want to go to your room. It has to be there.”

    “No way,” Conrad tried to protest, his lips still squished together, before freeing himself from her grip with a little toss of his head. “Not a chance, Belly. I’ve been imagining our wedding night in your room since I was seventeen.”

    “Well, I’ve been imagining our wedding night in your room since I was thirteen,” she shot back, her tone totally pert.

    or: the competition disease of Belly and Conrad during their wedding night.

     

    Language:
    English
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