Faux Vows, True Desires novel Chapter 437

When they got to the more intimate moments, Owen found himself craving more than just kisses. But he'd promised her that he wouldn't force anything upon her.

If he wanted to truly indulge, he knew he had to put a ring on her finger first. That way, enjoying the pleasures would be justified, a matter of marital right.

Owen had just sealed a lucrative deal with Mr. Spencer, and both parties were over the moon. Celebration was in order, and it led to a few too many drinks.

Owen had intended to be Cecilia's knight in shining armor, ready to intercept any unwanted alcohol. But with spirits high, he'd let his guard down. By the time he remembered his chivalrous plan, Cecilia had already had her fair share of drinks.

He could kick himself.

Both Lucinda and Cecilia had warned him not to let her get drunk.

Seeing her blush like a boiled shrimp and her eyes getting all blurry, it'd be strange if she wasn't drunk.

Mr. Spencer, meanwhile, was being propped up by his secretary, clearly having overindulged himself. Walter, ever the considerate host, suggested that Mr. Spencer stay at the hotel overnight. As a valued client of the Ikella group, it was only right that he be treated with the utmost hospitality at the Pinehurst Hotel.

The secretary, seeing his boss in such a state, agreed to Walter's suggestion, deciding a night's stay was better than trekking back home in that condition.

Soon, the presidential suite was cleared out, leaving only Owen and Cecilia.

"Cecilia," Owen said gently, gauging her mood with care. "You alright there?"

Cecilia's response was a wide grin followed by a hearty, boisterous laugh.

Owen blinked in surprise. Did she laugh heartily when she was drunk?

The next thing he knew, her hands were all over his face, pinching, twisting, and generally having a field day with his features.

"So it's real," she mumbled, apparently convinced she was dreaming.

"Hey, handsome," she slurred, puckering her lips. "What's your name? How old are you? Got a wife yet? Come on, give me a smooch."

Owen was flabbergasted.

Here was Cecilia, not recognizing him and shamelessly flirting with him.

Not only did she envelop him in kisses, but her hands were also all over him, with the unmistakable intent of undressing him.

"Cecilia, you're drunk," Owen struggled to maintain his composure, not wanting to take advantage of her when she was drunk.

He pried her hands off him, chuckling wryly, "No wonder you said you were a terrible drunk, hitting on men like this. Lucky it's just me. If it were anyone else, you'd be crying with regret tomorrow morning."

"Handsome, come on. I'll pay you—a hundred bucks for a kiss."

Owen, barely holding back laughter, scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom.

One thing was certain.

Even when drunk and offering money, she was stingy!

A hundred bucks for a kiss, he thought. She'd have to kiss his entire body to make it worthwhile, and even then, it wouldn't be much.

Such a lowball offer!

"Too little for you? How about a hundred and one? That's top dollar, come on, just one kiss."

Owen laid Cecilia on the bed, and the moment her hands were free, they were back around his neck, pulling him down to her, lips puckered for a kiss.

"Cecilia, you're drunk."

Owen tried to fend her off, blocking her lips with his hand.

"I'm not drunk. Wow, you've got a great body. Let's see those abs."

Cecilia tried to undress him, her drunken strength and blurred vision making it a clumsy effort. Eventually, she managed to undo a single button on his shirt.

Cecilia, in a fit of frustration, grabbed both sides of his shirt and tore it open, buttons scattering everywhere.