“You know what I want?” But his gaze has grown dark again. It’s the black that I don’t like and I take a step back.
His eyes close and I watch him draw in a deep breath. When he opens them again, he looks more relaxed. “Come lay down, Sasha. I’ll stay on my side.”
I nip at my lip as I tiptoe over to the edge of the bed. Slowly, I pull back the covers and fold myself under them, drawing them back up to my chin.
Then I turn on my side, facing away from him, and squeeze my eyes shut, curling into a ball.
I hear him get up and my eyes fly open again, but he only crosses the room to turn out the light before I hear him return to the bed, the covers shifting as he sinks back in.
For a minute, the dark silence settles between us. But my mind, despite being exhausted, won’t quiet.
Finally, I turn toward my…husband…who is still sitting up looking at his phone. “You said we could move at my pace.”
“I did.” He sets the phone down and looks over at me.
“Does that mean if I never wanted to…” I lick my lips, trying to ask the question I never thought I’d speak.
“You don’t want to have sex?” I feel him tense.
“Well, it’s not like we have feelings for each other. In fact, yesterday, I thought you hated me.”
“Enjoyable sex, in my experience, doesn’t require liking each other, it only needs attraction.”
I consider those words as I pull myself up to sitting. “You’re sure about that?”
“Sure.”
Cocking my head, I look over at him. “I’ll have to take your word for it. Feelings are not my specialty.”
“No?” he turns to me then. “We might be in trouble, because they aren’t mine either.”
That makes me start in surprise. “Do you also struggle with what people mean when they’re not telling you the truth?”
His jaw works before he answers. “No. I just don’t like letting my feelings show.”
“Oh, I wish I had that problem. Everyone seems to know how I feel.” I let out a long breath, wishing that I could be different. “But also, I struggle to fake stuff. I’m in or I’m out, you know?”
“No. I don’t know,” he answers with a shrug. “But I can offer you some perspective. You want a temporary arrangement and so do I. There is no reason it can’t be…enjoyable.”
I chew on my lip as I consider those words. Enjoyable is good. But vulnerable is bad. And because I’m more timid, but also, more open, I struggle to feel…valued. “I’ll think about it.”
He nods and then picks his phone back up. The fact that he’s not interested in me tonight actually makes me feel better, and I find myself relaxing into the bed as I lay back down.
This has been way more comfortable than I ever imagined. Whatever I pictured as I stood at the altar, it wasn’t this.
It was pain and suffering, I know that much. But as I drift off to sleep, I wonder if anything good might come of this marriage.
I’m not under my father’s or my brother’s control. Ryker seems to know what I want, and he’s promised to give it to me. Both thoughts are heartening as I curl into a tighter ball, comforted by the large form of Ryker beside me. Before I know it, I’ve fallen asleep.
I wake in the pitch dark, warm and cozier than I can remember being in a long time.
Part of me doesn’t want to move, but my hip is getting stiff and so I go to roll on my stomach, only to realize that there is a wall of warm hard flesh that makes it impossible.
I gasp, lifting my head, when a large hand squeezes my ass. “Where do you think you’re going?”
My eyes adjust to the dark and I lift my head to look around. At some point, I’ve shifted to his side of the bed.
I snuggled up to my mafia husband, the one who blackmailed me, and then married me when he ran out of options. Man, I am a glutton for punishment. “I’m sorry,” I say as I press my palm to the rippling muscles of his chest and push. “I didn’t mean…”
