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She looked up at me, the anger draining out of her like water from a sieve. To my surprise, I noticed her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Had she been crying? I kissed her hand and pulled her close, no longer irritated at the fresh pain she inflicted on me.
“What’s up with you?” I asked.
“I just want to know what’s going on,” she murmured against my chest.
Seeing how upset she got over a little fight, I didn’t want to scare her with the news that an entire new organization was trying to invade my turf. It was just another Tuesday to me, but she’d clearly been anxious enough to skip her class when she had a test.
So far I wasn’t too worried about it myself. I had already planned on assigning guards to keep an eye on her while she was on campus, but they were trained to be discreet. If she knew about it, she’d probably balk and flat-out refuse, but until I was sure the people spying on me hadn’t yet figured out she was my wife, that was the only way she could continue. I was positive I couldn’t convince her to stop going to class altogether until further notice—not without locking her up again. If things escalated further, it might have to go down that way, but hopefully, this new group would take the hint and stay in Portland.
I smoothed my hands down her back and kissed the top of her head. “It was nothing,” I said. It was the truth. I lived for throwing punches, and I’d handled much bigger uprisings in the past. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
Putting her arms around my middle, she tipped her head back to look at me. Fear still radiated from her big hazel eyes, and my heart felt too big for my chest that it was for my well-being.
“You’renot worried?” she asked. “And pretending to hide it from me to keep me from worrying?”
“I promise,” I said with a laugh. “Today was basically an unscheduled workout for me, nothing more.”
Her smile broke through, and her hands tightened around my waist, pulling herself closer so that her warm body was flush with mine.
I leaned down to kiss all her fears away.
Chapter 28 - Jenna
I really didn’t understand how scared I was until Lev walked through the door. He was alive, but covered in bruises. His eye was going to be black and blue, his jaw was swelling, and there was so much blood on his shirt I nearly passed out.
Then, my mind went blank with unexplainable anger. He dared to grin at me and say it was nothing after I’d been making myself dizzy, pacing back and forth, when I wasn’t crying my eyes out. It had all become too much and seeing him swaggering in like that was the final straw.
Yes, I’d probably been trying to hurt him when I was cleaning up his cuts and bruises. Because I didn’t believe him for a second that everything was fine. He had promised to answer my questions truthfully, but how could someone come home looking like he did and be so completely calm? To the point, he was treating it like a joke.
It was not because I cared about him. No matter that the easiest way to get out of this marriage was if I was widowed out of it. That was the last thing I wanted. Because there was no justice in that. It was better that he ended up in jail, where he could brawl to his heart’s content. Once again, my thoughts and feelings were in such a jumble that I didn’t think I could have told someone my own name. I just had to make sure Lev was all right.
So I could get my revenge.
That’s what I’d keep telling myself, anyway. When he finally assured me with clear, honest eyes that everything was all right and I didn’t need to worry, I believed him and was able to breathe again. Concentrate and think straight? Not so much. Because the next thing I knew, he was kissing me.
It was probably meant to be reassuring, nothing more, but I was so far off the Lev diet that my body instinctively leaned closer to him. The kiss grew deeper, and his hands moved lower to cup my backside and tug me right up against the swelling bulge in his pants.
His skin was hot, burning me up so I felt like I had on too many clothes, even though I just wore shorts and a t-shirt. I tightened my grasp on him, leaning my head back further so his tongue could dance against mine, then driving me crazy by trailing kisses down the side of my neck.
I dug my fingers into the stiff muscles in his back, and he backed me up until I bumped against the counter. The alcohol bottle tumbled into the sink, filling the air behind us with its sharp scent but soon dissipating. A moment later, he lifted me with strong hands so I could sit on the edge of the counter, the cold granite chilling the backs of my thighs.
Nudging my legs apart, he stepped between them, and I grappled at the zipper on his jeans. It wasn’t common to see him dressed so casually, but the way they formed to his muscular legs had me panting as I looked down at him.
“Get them off,” I moaned.
“Yours or mine?” he said with the sound of laughter in his voice.
“Both.”
His hand was already sliding up the inside of my leg, his fingers stroking beneath the edge of my shorts. I got his jeans open and eagerly shoved them down his hips, then gripped his thick rod in my hand. He made a wild sound against my throat, pushing his fingers under my panties to sink into my wet heat.
“I love that you worry about me,” he said, finding my most sensitive spot. “But I hate it, too. I hate that I made you cry, my little one.”
There was a flash of remembered misery, and I gave him a short, sharp push. Not strong enough to move him an inch, but it got that bit of aggression out. “I hate it too,” I pouted.
He caught my lower lip between his teeth, nipping gently before he had me trapped in a searing kiss. I melted back against the mirror, and he yanked my shorts and panties off.
“Make it all better,” I whispered. “Please.”
