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She stiffens, leaning away from me as though I’ve just pulled out a weapon. “What are you doing?”
“You’re going to hurt yourself the way you’re jabbing at your muscles.”
Pushing her hands out of the way, I stroke my fingers up her thigh to her hip, wishing I could see her naked scar while I do it.
A breath whistles out of her slightly parted lips. “You… you don’t have to do that.”
I ignore her as I work a tender touch into her skin. I can feel the tension draining away beneath my fingertips. “I’ll see those texts one way or the other. It’ll be easier if you just hand the phone over now.”
“Appeasement never works. The more I give—Oof.” Her breath catches when I hit a particularly tender spot on her leg. “—the more you’ll want to take.”
You’re right about that,roza. You have no fucking idea how right you are.
I keep massaging her leg. “Or maybe I want to help you and it would be easier if you didn’t fight me every step of the way.”
Her blue eyes turn steely as she tugs her leg out of my grip and stands up. “Bullshit. This is just another way you can control me. Another thing you can hold over my head.”
I nod and rise. “You’re upset about the marriage.”
“Ding, ding, ding! Ladies and gentlemen, we might have a genius in our midst.”
“I gave you a choice.”
“But you didn’t give me any time to make it! Which isn’t fair, because I was half-asleep. And I’m pregnant! Pregnancy means I’m constantly emotional. And… and… you kept staring at me with those green eyes and it’s not freaking fair!”
“How devious of me to marry you while my eyes are so green.”
She spins away from me with a grimace, limping as she moves to the bedside table. She angrily opens a pill bottle and then tosses a pill back equally as angrily, which I didn’t know was possible until now. It’s strange how sensual it is to watch her throat bob.
The moment doesn’t last long, though. Once she’s medicated, she whirls around to face me, all fire again. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this to my mother? If I tell her, are you going to have to kill her? Is this a secret?”
“I don’t kill anyone if I can avoid it.”
“Gee, isn’t that comforting?” She’s still pacing. I’m exhausted just watching her. I start to unbutton my shirt, and she freezes. “What are you doing?”
“It’s late and I’m tired. I’m getting ready for bed.”
“Here?” she gawks.
“Where else should I sleep?”
“Literally anywhere else would be fabulous. You and Natascha didn’t even live on the same side of town. Why should we be any different?”
It’s a good question.
I have no intention of answering it.
I discard my shirt on one of the chairs. Her gaze keeps slipping from my face, venturing lower with each dip before she rakes it back to my eyes.
“It was a mistake to keep Natascha so separate from me. She was an easy target because our lives were completely disconnected.” The idea comes to me as the words are tumbling out of my mouth. The more I say, the more I like it. “It’s not going to be just social functions and prearranged photoshoots like it was with her. For as long as we’re married, we’re going to have to present as a real married couple. And it starts right here, in this bedroom.”
“I am nothaving sex with you,” she snarls.
“Not with that attitude.” I unbutton my pants. “I want you to beg first.”
She flings a pillow at me. “You know, most people want sex to mean something. It’s not just threats and power games.”
“Oh? Tell me then: what did it mean to you when we had sex?”
