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He’s restraining me.
“As it appears you heard, I did get married.” His hand splays across my hip, fingertips reaching to the soft bit of belly just under my navel. “Which should be of no concern to you, all things considered.”
Jessica’s eyes open so wide I think they might pop out of her head and the thought of them rolling across the carpet makes me smirk. Apparently, in addition to a violent streak, I also got the same ruthless gene my father possesses, because I wouldn’t mind being the cause of those eyeballs hitting the floor.
“No concern to me?” Her voice pitches up as we get one step closer to the five second rule being in play. “How is it of no concern to me that you wouldn’t even entertain the idea of marriage with me after over a year together and you marry this… this…” She swings one hand my way. “Hussy.”
I’m a little surprised hussy’s the best she could come up with. I’m also surprised to hear she and Fynn discussed marriage. Who’s keeping secrets now?
Jessica is still blabbing, practically foaming at the mouth as she continues gesturing in my direction. “She’s not even from here.”
Brian's head bobs back as he continues to stare at Jessica. "Did you really just quote Mean Girls?"
I snort. "That does seem appropriate."
Jessica’s narrowed gaze swings my way. "You don't know anything about what's appropriate." She stabs one finger in Fynn’s direction. "You have no idea what this man did to me."
I meet her gaze, refusing to look away. "I know what you claimed he did to you, which makes me extra confused that you're angry over him being married to me and not you." The words are barely out of my mouth when the truth hits me. I start to laugh, because of the ridiculousness of it. "Oh my God." I look at Fynn, shocked at the length this bitch has gone to. "She knows you didn’t really cheat on her." I face Jessica, realizing she’s so much worse than I ever couldn’t have imagined. "You spread those rumors because you were pissed he didn't want to marry you."
I half expect Jessica to deny my accusation. I sure would if I was in her position, but she doesn't. She just stands taller, lifting her chin in defiance. "He should have just fucking married me. We’re a perfect match." Her nostrils flare and her perfectly glossed lip curls. "We know the same people. Do the same things. Want the same futures." She snorts, looking down her regal nose at me. "You probably want a happy little family with two point five children and summer vacations spent in Disney World." She leans forward, expression smug. "I've got news for you, sweetie. He doesn't want kids."
It makes me unreasonably angry that she's pretending she knows Fynn better than I do, mostly because she probably does. And that really chaps my ass.
But I intend to make full use of my newly constructed backbone, so I just smile at her, doing my best to seem like I don't give a shit. "Didn’t he also tell you he didn’t want to get married?" I’m proud as hell of the retort. It's the kind of thing I would normally only come up with days later in the comfort of my own shower, but it just jumped right out of my mouth and sounded fuh-reaking amazing.
It also seems to be the comment that pushes Jessica over the edge, because, in the blink of an eye, she knocks Brian out of the way, looking a little feral herself as she comes at me, claws and teeth bared. Again, I don't think, I just react. I swing, managing to get a little momentum going even as Fynn's arm comes between us. It's a valiant effort on his part. Unfortunately, it won’t do much to stop the wild woman who now believes I've ruined her life.
But my fist hitting her nose does. The sound it makes when it connects is not pleasant and will probably gross me out for weeks to come when I think back on this moment.
And I will think back on it.
Jessica’s hands fly up to cup her face as blood shoots from her nostrils. "My nose." Her eyes are watering as she stumbles back. "Do you have any idea how much this cost?"
I lift my brows, because apparently the brilliance is not done coming out of my mouth. "You had to buy your own nose?"
Jessica makes a screeching noise, sounding a lot like a bird of prey, but she doesn't come at me again. Instead she continues wobbling her way to the door, shouting from behind the cup of her hands as she topples into the hall. "You're going to hear from my lawyer. I'm going to sue the fuck out of you."
The room is quiet for a few seconds after she disappears. Finally Fynn slowly turns my way, his gaze a palpable weight as it bores into the side of my head. "I believe you were supposed to stay at my mother's apartment, wife."
I take a deep breath, losing a little of the steam I had earlier. The fire creating it was fueled by my anger at Jessica. Anger for what she’d done to Fynn. Anger that she dared try to touch him.
But I don't feel any anger toward Fynn and that leaves me less ready to do battle.
I'm gonna try anyway.
Shoving my shoulders back, I stand as tall as my five-foot-three frame will allow and face him, head tipped back so my eyes meet his. "I would have if you'd answered your phone." I prop both hands on my hips, hoping it makes me seem a little more stern. "I was worried about you. I thought someone had—"
My words cut off as Fynn grabs one of my bent arms, using the hold to drag me into his office. He pauses to turn back to Brian. "Call the police. I want to file a report about this." Then he shoves me into the room, following me in and closing the door. "You were supposed to stay where you were safe. I can't protect you if you won't let me." His tone is as dark and dangerous as his gaze as it flies over me, scanning my body from head to toe.
I swallow hard. "Are you mad at me?"
He moves closer, backing me up until I bump into the edge of his desk. "Yes, wife. I am mad at you."
I grip the edge of the desk as he continues to come closer, looming over me. His large hands span my waist, using the hold to lift me up and drop me down onto his desk. His hips press between my knees, spreading my legs apart as one hand comes to bracket along my jaw, palm against my throat. "I'm also turned on as fuck after watching you defend me like that, so I can't decide whether I should put you over my knee or fuck the hell out of you."
My heart is racing, and only partly out of fear. "That does sound like a dilemma." I fight for air. "My vote is that you fuck the hell out of me. I don't think I'm so big on spanking."
His eyes move over my face, slow and assessing. "No. You wouldn't be, would you?" He leans into my ear, nipping the lobe just hard enough to make me jump. "Because you’d rather hear what a good girl you are."
