“I’ve had my fill of talking for today,” he grumbles.
“Tough shit, psycho. You’re not avoiding me any longer.”
The pout returns to his face as he purposely fixes his erection behind his jeans. “Fine, but you let me tie you up and do whatever the fuck I want to that sexy body.”
He says that like it’s a negotiation. But hello?! I’m me. There is nothing to negotiate because I’ll gladly submit to him in the bedroom. “Deal. Now get your grumpy ass in the living room.”
He mumbles under his breath again as he slings his arm around my neck—caveman style—and walks us into the living room. Ares pulls me down on his lap on the couch, fixing my legs so I’m straddling him. I arch a brow as I attempt to slide off. “This isn’t conducive to talking.” I’m working hard to ignore the bulge pressing against my ass from underneath.
His hands glide down my sides as he smirks. “If you want to talk, this is how we do it.” His fingers creep under my top, and he trails them across my lower belly, igniting a rake of shivers in their wake.
“Ares, be reasonable,” I protest, fighting the urge to push myself into his hand as it explores the flat planes of my stomach.
“Thisisme being reasonable.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“What?” He feigns innocence as his fingertips creep higher. “Sue me if I’m horny. I’ve had to watch and listen to you and Stewart going at it for days.”
“You could have joined in,” I remind him.
He opens his mouth to say it, and I slap my hand over his lips. “Nope. Do not spout that bullshit at me. If you have shared other women before, you can learn to share me.”
He nips at my palm, and I shriek, pulling it back as I fix daggers at him.
“You’re the most frustrating woman. I told you those others meant nothing and it’s not the same with you.”
“How is it with me?”
“You tell me? You’re the one getting married tomorrow.”
“Ugh.” I slap his hand away from under my top. “You’re the most frustrating man. I’m trying to have a conversation, and you’re not treating it seriously.”
“I’m trying to get laid, and you’re not treatingthatseriously.”
I bop him on the nose, and it catches him off guard enough to let me slide off his lap. I storm off. “Forget it. This is pointless. I don’t know why I bother trying.”
I don’t get very far before I’m lifted and tossed over his shoulder. “Stop being so dramatic.” He stalks back, dumping me unceremoniously on the couch.
“I’m dramatic? Have you looked in the mirror, pal? If you’re not throwing punches, you’re stirring shit or swinging your big dick around.”
A laugh bursts from his mouth, and it helps to lighten the moment. Scooting back into the corner of the couch away from him, I snag a cushion and press it to my body as if that will hold him off. “I need to know where we stand,” I say in a calmer, softer tone, letting my emotions show on my face. “And I’m worried about you. I need to know how you’re handling everything. I’m not trying to be a bitch. I’m just concerned. Concerned about your mental state and concerned I’m losing you.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket with the worst timing ever. Looking at the screen, I sigh. “I need to take this.” I hold up a finger, cautioning him to be silent as I put it on speaker. “Uncle James. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Have you seen my daughter? I have been trying to get a hold of Julia all day, but the little bitch just keeps sending me terse replies.” Mom has her phone, so she must be the one replying.
Oh, look. Sheiscapable of responding to messages.
Just not mine.
“Julia’s at a frat party,” I lie. “Can I pass on a message to her?”
“Get her to call me, and, Ashley?”
“Yeah?”
“I hope your injuries are healing. I want you back in the saddle the day after Christmas. This is a perfect time to trap sinners, and you can’t shirk your responsibilities any longer.” I flip him the bird even though he can’t see me.
