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I considered my answer before snapping back with the first thing that came to mind, which would sound something like Because I’m your husband. I knew a comment like that would not go over well with my fierce storm, so I gave my reply a little more thought.
Elijah’s comment from earlier today about Mom and Dad Farsey using the guilt-as-guidance parenting style rang in the back of my head. I was starting to think that was their method with all the girls. Not just with Hannah.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across that way, and I can see that I did.” I offered the apology sincerely and waited for her acceptance. Instead, I got a fiery stare, little fists balled at her hips, and a proud defiant chin thrust forward, ready for combat.
My God, this girl is a hellcat.
She said nothing.
“Did you hear me apologize?” I asked, getting irritated with this hot-and-cold routine.
“Oh, I heard you.” She nodded haughtily. “I’m trying to decide what to do with it.”
My screwed-up face gave away my confusion.
“What to do with it?”
“Yes. Accept it or toss it in the trash with the other garbage.”
She was infuriating me. I closed the distance between us, and right when I was in front of her, I bent forward and tucked my shoulder into her abdomen. When I stood to my normal height, I had a sexy blond bombshell slung over my shoulder. Her small hands smacked at my backside, and in between her uncontrollable giggles, she tried to sound serious.
“What do you think you’re doing? Put me down!” She sucked in a breath, and the air expanded her lungs and crushed her tits against my back. “Right now!”
I smacked her ass with an open palm, and the crack bounced around the confined space of the hallway that led to our bedroom. The pint-sized beauty laughed harder, possessing me in ways I didn’t anticipate. Her happiness was becoming my crack, and like a genuine junkie, I imagined I’d go to greater and greater lengths each time to experience it.
But what would be the ultimate price? My patience? My sanity? My dignity?
Maybe all three.
Chapter Ten
Agatha
“What are you doing to me, girl?” Carmen husked in the deepest voice I’d ever heard from a human.
My eyes had to be cartoonishly wide in reaction to both the sound and actually feeling his question vibrate through my body.
He hoisted me over his shoulder in the kitchen and stalked to the bedroom like some sort of Viking on a village raid. Not going to lie, the image totally worked for my pussy and every other hormonally motivated part of my body. When he tossed me on the bed, it was done with so little care, I actually bounced a time or two. I almost rolled right off the other side, causing another maniacal laugh to burst out of me.
And then I heard him issue that question. Now all I could do was stare at him while I skittered back on the mattress. That didn’t stop his advance, though. He prowled across the bed and then loomed over me with an intense, lustful stare. I swallowed so hard, it made a sound we both heard.
“Wha—What do you mean what am I doing?” I choked through my own desire.
“My body,” he growled. “My body seems to have disconnected from my brain. I want to tear those pretty little pajamas off you and do things married people do.”
He leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine. A moan escaped when I opened for his insistent tongue, and the sound only encouraged him. More of his body weight settled on top of me, and we sank deeper into the bedding. It was a down love nest, and my incredibly sexy husband had such hunger in his stare and his kiss, and my God, the way he pressed his hips into me in the same rhythm he stroked my tongue with his own, I could barely catch my breath or organize a thought, forget about any sort of sassy remark, because my brain and body were in complete surrender mode.
I wanted him to make me feel good. Just forget about life’s stressors for a while and feel good. The promise of it was right there in the way our bodies moved together. Right there in the way we fit together so perfectly when he unexpectedly flipped me onto my stomach and mounted me from behind.
While he issued his desire to remove my clothes, they still provided a maddening barrier between us. His too. It all had to go—right the fuck now—so I could feel him deep inside my aching, needing core.
“Please,” I whimpered into the bedding. “Please.”
The man was at my ear again, that dark, rich tone coating his normal voice in a blanket of hot, dirty sex. “I want you so bad, Storm. You have no idea the things I want to do to this tight little body.”
“Tell me,” I rasped into the sheets. I could be bold if I didn’t see his face.
“Tell you what, baby?”
