I cup her face when she’s closer and study her lips because I’m denying her eye contact. Pulling her into a kiss, I squeeze her face harder than necessary then release her with a step back. She just stands there as I wave at her sisters. Once I’m on the elevator, I only look up right before the doors close.
Caerwyn frowns at me once I enter the bar twelve minutes later. I snort to myself because he should feel honored to hang out with me.
“Stop acting like you have such a busy life,” I greet him and nod at the server.
This is another place I don’t have to tell them what I want. I lean back and type away on my phone like Wyn isn’t staring a hole into my forehead.
“Give me a second, stalker fuck, I’m creating a new post,” I grumble as I upload a picture I took after my shower at the gym.
In the picture, I’m still wet with my hair falling into my eyes as I lean on the sink to look in the mirror. My towel barely hangs on and exposes part of my hip. I caption it “Still Dirty.” After I post it, I turn off my phone and give my attention back to Wyn.
“What brings us out?” he asks, then sips his drink.
I chose him because I know he won’t pry.
“Nothing, just torturing my wife.”
Wyn looks heavenward but doesn’t bother to ask me to elaborate. His loss, it’s a damn good plan.
* * *
Ah.Home sweet home. It’s about twenty after ten p.m. and the penthouse is quiet. I know Karessa is here because her vehicle is in her spot. I’m not surprised she’s not waiting for me at the elevator. I am aware we haven’t been married long but this shit is for keeps and she’s going to need to learn some things fast. I’m possessive as fuck, even more since the incident. She’s mine and no one else’s. This is a thing I do not play about, especially with the way Layla tried to rip out my fucking heart.
Kicking off my shoes, I begin undressing on the way to the room knowing she’s going to be upset. The way I don’t like being fucked with is the same way she doesn’t like being ignored. I’m down to black boxer briefs and my phone by the time she comes into view. My wife is sitting in the middle of the bed pretending to read a magazine. The shit’s upside down but that’s her fucking problem. Her hair is in one of those scarfs and she’s wearing some little peach dress that looks like a long tank top.
Fuck her upset face makes be hard. As suspected, some of that delicious fear from earlier is replaced with what she feels is rightful indignation.Yum. Claws out kitty.I’ll fuck the attitude right out of her.
“Fun with the girls?” I ask knowing she’s pissed about my disappearance. She doesn’t respond and flips the page instead.Oh, the silent treatment.“Oh, so you’re deaf now? Don’t play with me, ReRe. Get over here and greet your husband.”
Her expression tells me how many dicks I can suck but she looks at me. “I tried calling and texting you several times. Did your phone break before or after posting a thirst trap?”
I shrug and turn on the phone. Once it’s powered up it pings with a shit load of notifications. “Heh, you did.” I put down the phone. “Where’s my kiss?”
“Fuck your kiss. Did you forget that fast about the last time I couldn’t reach you?”
Mmm. I love when she’s reckless.
I’m doing my best not to think about that time so bringing it up only aggravates me. I haven’t slept well since that day and rehashing it at night isn’t helpful.
“I already told you the proper way to greet me in this house,” I assert, ignoring her concern. I don’t want that right now.
She folds her arms; the action perks her tits up more and her frown is the cutest fucking thing I’ve seen all day. That’s what I need.
“And I can go get my own house.”
Her voice says ‘try me’ but what she forgets is I have all the fucking time in the world to do just that.
I’m on the bed and holding her by her chin before she can react. “Try that shit and I’ll set that shit on fire and fuck you while it burns.”
I take my kiss since she’s fucking around. Karessa falls into it for a bit but remembers she’s supposed to be mad and pushes at my face while she turns away.
“How the fuck can you leave me hanging and ignore me all day then expect me to want to kiss you?” she argues.
“Just like you can half-ass your lesson, flirt with my bodyguard, and make plans with your sisters.”
“I was worried! Wait, I can’t hang out with my sisters?” She tries to get out of my hold but my arm around her waist is ironclad.
I really appreciate her concern but I don’t want it. Ignoring her first statement, I go to the other part of the argument.
