Yes. That’s all it is.
My gaze slides to the pull-out couch. Too short. Too narrow. It would probably be more comfortable sleeping on a concrete slab. I think of Esmerelda sleeping comfortably in the giant bed. Does she sleep naked, or does she wear cute bunny pajamas to bed? The thought makes me huff out a laugh. Esmerelda wearing anything cutesy? At the same time, all the blood rushes back to my cock.
Fuck!
I adjust myself roughly, squeezing until the ache reminds me who’s in control. I will not get off to Esmerelda. I’d rather cut my dick off and gift wrap it for the council. My wolf growls in disagreement but I ignore him. I’m in control, not him.
I yank open the pull-out and force myself into the makeshift bed. The lamp clicks off, but sleep eludes me. I lie there, tossing and turning, the image of Esmerelda in nothing but the towel playing over and over like a fucking movie.
Damn her. And damn these thoughts.
Eventually I turn on my side and check under the pillow. My fingers brush cool metal. The aerosol can of wolfsbane is still there. Good.
Esmerelda doesn’t know I’m immune to it. She never will.
It says something that I have to arm myself just to sleep in the vicinity of my wife. But I saw what she did to my employees. If she tries something, she won’t catch me by surprise.
Satisfied, for now, I settle back. But peace doesn’t last long. My mind won’t let me forget the way she looked. The way she laughed.
I curse my body for responding.
Again.
It feelslike I’ve just fallen asleep when a loud banging permeates through my restless dreams. The sun blinds me even through my closed eyelids. I groan as I roll over and nearly fall right off the pull-out bed.
“Good morning.” Esmerelda’s voice is uncharacteristically bubbly as she opens the door and greets whoever is on the other side. It’s more surprising than her being up and at ’em when the sun’s barely up.
“Morning, ma’am,” a polite voice says. “Room service.”
“Thank goodness, I’m starving. You can put everything on the table. Oh, and my husband will tip you. He’s a much more generous tipper than I am. Never gives anyone less than a fifty.”
Squinting at the dull light peeking through the blinds, I grit my teeth and glance at my watch. It’s barely six o’clock, and she’s already starting her shit. This woman is going to be the death of me—and my finances, if she keeps this up. My family has money, and I’ve made a fair share of my own since starting my business, but at every opportunity, she comes up with a reason for me to shell out cash.
I scramble up and grab my wallet to give the bellboy his exorbitant tip while Esmerelda wastes no time whatsoever piling up her plate with eggs and pancakes. The bellboy leaves, taking his large cart with him with a promise of returning to clean up later.
I’m sure you will, buddy. Especially for that kind of tip.
I clear the grogginess from my voice and pick up one of the mugs to pour coffee into it. She hasn’t said a word to me. “You’re up early. Having trouble sleeping?”
“I slept very well. I just want to go on a wolf run this morning. Care to join me?”
I shake my head. “I prefer to run on my own, thank you. But you enjoy it.”
She takes a bite of a croissant before pointing it at me. “Uh-uh, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. I went to the museum for you; it’s time to do what I want.”
“I still have sand in places I shouldn’t have sand that says we did what you wanted yesterday on the beach.”
She looks like the grape she just popped in her mouth has just turned sour. “They really weren’t exaggerating about you, were they?”
I grab a slice of bacon. “Who are they and what did they have to say?”
She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
I want to press her for more information, but what I’ve learned in a very short time about Esmerelda is that if she doesn’t want to do something, pressing her will only make that stubborn streak I witnessed within five minutes of being in her company raise its ugly head.
“So, you gonna run with me? Or are you scared?”
I roll my eyes. I don’t care what she thinks, but now I think I could do with releasing a little tension. “Fine. I’ll run with you.”
