“Well, now you do. Though I’m sure I’ll think you’re smoking hot in anything you put on. But I really like it when you have on a short skirt so I can reach under it to touch your pussy through your wet panties.”
“You’re so dirty, Mr. Wilde.”
“Just following your lead, filthy girl.” I step around her and pluck a dress off its hanger. I only choose it because it’s short. When I hold it out, I know it’s a good choice. “Arms up, little pixie.”
She obediently lifts her hands and lets me dress her. I haven’t seen her in a bra yet. She doesn’t really need one. Her tits are amazing, pert, high, and tight. She would only need a bra if she were wearing a white tank top or something that would cause everyone to stare at her nipples.
She’s sexy as fuck, but I’m not interested in sharing her hard little buds with other people.
Taking a step back, I look at her. “Love this one.”
She glances down. “I’ve never worn it before.” It’s pale pink, making her look even more innocent than she is. The bodice is fitted around her chest, the stretchy, puckered material cupping her breasts perfectly while also concealing her nipples.
I know where the little points are, though, and I reach out and tweak them. “What did you call this elastic stuff?”
“Smocking.”
“I like it.”
“You like that I’m not wearing a bra.”
“That’s true. I also like that no one will know that but me.” I set a finger on her cleavage between her breasts and slowly drag the front of the stretchy material down until her nipples pop free. Lowering my voice, I say, “I really like knowing that I can do this.” I bend forward and kiss one and then the other.
“So dirty,” she says again.
After arranging her tits back under the smocking, I turn to grab jeans and a polo out of the bag of clothes I brought back with us last night. “Tonight, we’re packing some of your things and staying in our room in the mansion,” I announce.
“That’s not practical, Brody. I need to work. I like to start early. My office is set up for maximum productivity.”
“The staff is moving furniture today to prepare the room you chose for us. I’ll have them clean the room next to it also. You can use it as an office for now. Maybe I should claim the room on the other side as well.”
“For your office?” she asks as she slips into a pair of white sandals.
“Nope. A nursery.”
She giggles. “You’re such a neanderthal. We don’t need a nursery yet.” She strolls toward me and flattens her hands on my chest. “Does this mean you’re planning to stay in Wilde?”
I thread my hands in the back of her wild curls and tip her head back. I stare into her eyes. The truth is, she caught me off guard. I don’t know what possessed me to decide to claim a nursery. When did that become an option?
“I’ll be honest. I don’t know, baby,” I whisper. “Suddenly, I had a vision of a nursery next to that bedroom as if it were real. Maybe my mind is shifting.”
What the fuck am I thinking? I have a business to run. I left San Antonio with every intention of returning in a few months. I left competent people in charge. They’ve hardly needed my input, but forever?
She leans up on her tiptoes and kisses me. “I like your shifting mind.”
As she turns to slink out of the bedroom, I find myself grinning. My new job is to please my woman. If it makes her happy to move into the mansion, then I need to find a way to make that a reality and count my blessings.
So many people. Sheesh. There are already seven people living there. Cousins I’d barely seen in a decade, my brother, all their wives, and my sister… I’m used to living alone. But so is Melody. Apparently, our days of solitude are over.
After I finish dressing, I find my girl in the kitchen. We’ve already eaten breakfast, but she’s putting the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. I stand in the doorway and watch. As cute as she is being all domestic, I’m eager to change her life so that she no longer needs to clean a kitchen. Lord knows I have enough money to make that happen without needing the mansion’s staff. I assume she does, too. But I want to see her sitting in that breakfast nook with Claire, Reagan, and Arianna.
I picture them huddled together, all of them pregnant, their round bellies stretching the fronts of their dresses. They’re laughing as they gossip about their husbands behind our backs. They think we don’t know their secrets, but we do. We know everything.
In my imagination, my sister is with them. She’s pregnant, too. It’s kind of jarring. Who is Emilia’s husband? She just graduated from college. She only came to Wilde to see what all the hype was about. She’s happy here, though. I can tell. She’s the same age as all the wives, and she fits in with them.
Will she marry someone from town? Who else would she meet?
Haden…
