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"It's not about that, Fynn." I gesture at him, flailing one hand up and down his tall frame. "You didn't ask for any of this. If I go now then you won't be involved. You can go back to your life and I'm sure someone else will come along who can help you with your reputation."
"Fuck my reputation." He sounds angry now. Pissed even. "You don't deserve this shit either. And you know it." He shakes his head, the hold on my arm tightening. "You made a deal, Valerie. You fix my problem and I make sure you don't have to go back to Minneapolis." He leans down, eyes meeting mine. "And that includes going back in a fucking box."
I appreciate everything he’s saying, I really do. But I genuinely like him. Enough that I don't want his life to be tainted by mine. I step close, eyes moving over the angry glare he’s still shooting my way. "This isn't what you signed up for. It wasn't fair of me to put you in this position." I push up on my toes, lifting the heels of my stilettos off the ground so I can press a kiss to his cheek. "For what it's worth, I was really looking forward to being your wife." I give him one last look, committing the lines of his handsome face to memory before turning away. My throat is tight and my eyes burn as I walk to the door.
It's almost funny. I walked away from the only life I'd ever known without shedding a single tear. Without looking back.
Except looking back is all I want to do. But I can't. Fynn is a good man regardless of what everyone in Sweet Side believes, and he will go on living his life. If I stay, I'm not so sure that will happen.
My hand’s on the door when his voice rings out behind me, sharp and loud.
"Wife."
I freeze, stunned at both the word choice and the way he said it. Slowly, I turn to face him. I can't help it. I can't stop myself from stealing one last look at him. Even if he's angry. Even if he hates me. Even if he's only stopping me to tell me that I can fuck all the way off for what I've done.
But while Fynn is most definitely angry, that’s not the only emotion dominating his dark gaze as he moves toward me. One hand loosens the tie at his neck before yanking it free. He closes in on me as he unbuttons his jacket, fighting it down his arms. "You have ten seconds to get your arse in my bed before I spank it so hard you won't be able to sit down tomorrow."
I gape at him, shocked and aroused at his threat. "But—"
Fynn flips the buttons of his shirt free, the scowl on his face strong. "I'm not kidding, Valerie. You aren't leaving this apartment. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Likely not the next day either." He leans down, bringing us nearly nose to nose as he shucks his shirt. "And if you don't get moving, you likely won't leave my bed either."
My eyes lock on his hands as they drop to his belt. He whips it free, continuing to stare at my face as he folds it in half. "You're pushing me, Val. And I'm already at the end of my fucking rope tonight." His folded belt swings my way, catching the side of my ass cheek in a swat that’s just hard enough to get my attention.
And also to get my feet moving.
I hustle down the hall, movements automatic. When I reach his bedroom I stop, stalled out by uncertainty.
But Fynn is right behind me, working the fly of his pants open. He shoves one finger at the mattress. "Bed."
I must not move fast enough for him, because before I can react, he grabs me by the waist, hefts me up and practically tosses me onto the duvet. I land with a squeak and a bounce. His expression is menacing as he shoves down his pants and prowls toward me. I scoot backwards, not because I'm afraid, but because I don't really know what's about to happen. "What are you going to do?"
I liked the way he offered up directions yesterday, and I desperately want them now. I've always been a people pleaser, and when I know what is expected of me I can prepare. Be sure that I do what I should.
And hopefully earn more of the complimentary words he showered me with yesterday.
Fynn crawls onto the mattress as I keep edging away. "First, I'm going to fuck you hard and fast so we both feel a little better."
My back bumps the headboard, and I swallow hard because I've run out of room and out of time. "And then?"
He grabs my ankle, hauling me toward him until my head hits the pillows. "And then, I'm going to fuck you slow and sweet so you learn how beneficial it is to be my wife."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FYNN
I’M THE CLOSEST I've ever come to losing control, and it's all because of the woman staring up at me with wide, lust-filled eyes.
My fucking wife.
The same wife who thought she was going to walk out on me less than twelve hours into our marriage. Not bloody happening.
"You're mine, Valerie." I yank out the top drawer of my bedside table, grabbing a condom from the fresh pile I stocked this morning. "You signed the goddamned papers." I rip the pack open. "Hell, you're the one who came up with this fucking deal." I roll the rubber down my length, the pressure from my own hand nearly enough to make me groan. The thought of sinking into her body has fire licking at the base of my spine, shoving me one step closer to desperate mindlessness and ensuring this first time won't be lovemaking.
It'll be fucking. Hard and fast and everything she deserves for withholding yet another bit of information from me.
"It's not that I don't want to be here. I just don't want to —"
"If you're about to make some bullshit excuse about dragging me into your mess, it's way too fucking late." I hook one finger into the crotch of her knickers, tugging them to the side. "You agreed to marry me, did you not?"
