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And there it was, his little hidden smile. The one he saved for me. Why had it taken so long to find him?
When he tucked me in, he leaned in close, and I tilted my lips up for a kiss. But instead, his hands planted on my cheeks ever so gently and guided my head down so he could kiss my forehead.
What the hell?
"Atticus? What, you're not kissing me now?"
His gaze shifted to my lips. "I did kiss you."
I considered him for a long moment. "Actually, no, you didn't. And you haven’t. Not since I've been home. We've been here for hours, and not once have you pressed your lips to mine."
He frowned. "Of course I have."
Bullshit. "Don't you gaslight me. You haven't. And what the hell is up?"
He frowned. "Nothing is up. You want a kiss? Here's a kiss." He leaned in, his body rigid, as if I was going to accept that as a kiss. I turned my head. "No. Where's my real kiss? You know, the one where you missed me and only had your hand for companionship for the last couple of weeks? I feel like we were supposed to get started on christening the whole house. What happened to that?"
He stared at me like I'd lost my head and replaced it with two strange ones. "Are you insane? You're hurt."
He had to be kidding. "Yes, my shoulder is hurt. But I am horny. Why aren't you doing something about that?"
He pressed his lips together firmly. "We can't. Not until you’ve healed up. The way I want you?—"
There he was. In that moment, I could see the Atticus I was used to. The one who was obsessed with me. The one who, at any given moment, would drop to his knees, just for the pleasure of eating me. The one who fucked me so good in the back of the car that I'd seen stars. He was in there, so why wasn't he coming out to play?
"What's going on?” I asked. “I know you want me. I can see it. It's right there."
He swallowed hard and looked away. "That's no secret. I always want you. Right now, I need to do what’s best for you, which is for you to get some sleep. I'll check on you before I go to bed."
Frustrated and well… horny, I eased back on my satin pillowcase. I couldn't believe it. "Fine, I guess, but—" It took me a moment to filter through what he'd said. He would look in on me. Which meant he wasn't planning on sleeping here. "Where the hell are you going to be sleeping?"
"Next door."
I blinked at him. And then I slowed down that blink, so he would get the point. "That's pure insanity. Why?"
"Jesus, Gwen, why are you being like this? This is for you. You'll get better rest without me here. You won't be tempted to starfish and roll around onto your shoulder. This is for the best."
"Who decided that though? And hello, your wife just said she is horny. The husband I know would have immediately dropped to his knees, bent my legs into a pretzel, and eaten me for an hour. What is going on?"
His gaze flickered to my lips again. "So let me get this straight; you want me to service you?"
That fun playful part of me inside prickled slightly. Why was he being like this? "No, I'm not demanding that you service me. I just want to be with my husband. You know, the man I married. The man who loves me, and I love him."
"I'm just trying to do right by you. And right now, that means giving you space and time to heal before… How did you say it? Before I bend you like a pretzel." He pushed to his feet.
"So, is that like ever coming back on the table? The whole pretzel thing?"
He didn't bother to answer me. Instead, he quietly walked out of our room to go and sleep somewhere else.
5
Atticus
"Fucking take it. You are such a good wife, taking my big cock all the way down your throat."
I wound my fingers into my wife's hair and tugged savagely, angling her head to take my cock all the way down and hit the back of her throat. When it did, she lifted her eyes. Her glittering gaze met mine and my control snapped as I started to fuck to her face. She took it, moaning around the length of my?—"
"Atticus, oh my God, Atticus."
