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“I’m not keeping a useless wife. You’ll find a cooking class to enroll in, around your other duties and schoolwork.”
I gaped at him, all my good feelings disappearing like they’d never existed. “When the hell am I supposed to do that?”
He grabbed my face and it almost hurt when he squeezed my cheeks. “Are you talking back to your husband?”
I shoved him, and I got the impression he let me go when I stumbled away. “You said I could keep going to school.”
“And you can. You just also have to do these things. It’s not any worse than a part-time job.” He rolled his eyes.
What an absolute ass. “Do you hear yourself? You’re a job,” I spat at him, truly angry for the first time. “Do you know how to cook?”
He gave me an uncomfortable scowl. “No.”
“Then you can come with me when you find a class you want me to take,” I snapped, then stomped out to the kitchen. “Marriages that are one-sided always end! You should know that by now.”
“Like hell I’m going,” he called after me.
My hard dick was making me irritable. Being furious hadn’t made it go down. What an asshole, not bothering to do anything about it. My face heated so hot that I thought I might ignite. He wasn’t exactly here for me, so I shouldn’t start thinking things like that. He didn’t care if I was hard or not. I was a hole for him to use—and there was something filthy and sexy about that, too.
Ugh.
“Yeah, well, you better make sure this house is spotless before you go to bed or there will be consequences!” he thundered from the dining room.
I hid in the kitchen and scowled. I’d thought, maybe, since that had been the first time he’d touched my dick, he might actually do something nice with it, but no.
My erection shoved against my sweatpants and tried to make a break for freedom.
I was having trouble thinking around the need to jerk off. I growled and scrubbed my hands over my face.
Where was I supposed to find a fucking cooking class to take? He was off his rocker.
“It doesn’t matter. None of this is real,” I grumbled under my breath, then decided to go to bed because what could he possibly do that was worse than leaving me like this? Part of me was also irritated that I’d apparently not serviced his dick well enough to warrant a hand job. No, I didn’t exactly care how unhappy he was with me at the moment.
He could kiss my ass.
Snorting—because he’d already done that tonight—I flipped the kitchen light off, ignored the dirty glass he’d mentioned that was in the craft room, happily gave the middle finger to his den as I stomped past it, and then I went to my room to sleep. I made sure to push the lock on the door as I went inside for good measure.
He might want me to be his “wife,” but if he thought he was going to tell me what to do with all my free time, he had another thing coming.
7
COLT
I WOKE up to an empty bed and a text message from Derek.
Derek: Need you today. Got some shit to figure out.
It wasn’t what I’d expected or wanted, and the irritation hit me almost immediately, which was a horrible start to the day. The last thing a husband wanted was to wake up alone, especially since I’d already given Quin direct instructions to use his mouth on me first thing in the morning. It was clear that he didn’t know how to obey orders, something I would have to teach him.
I slid from the bed, my feet touching the cold floorboards of my room, and huffed. I headed straight to the en suite to take care of business and brushed my teeth before I walked back into the room to get dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants.
The morning sun filtered through the swaying curtains because even though it was cool outside, I’d left the windows open slightly to get some air. I hated how suffocating the room was with the air conditioner on, and while I used it when I absolutely had to, I also tried to avoid it when I could.
I glared and stalked out of the bedroom, then downstairs to the kitchen, only to find it empty. If nothing else, my wife should have time to cook on a Saturday morning. There was no breakfast and certainly no Quin up the way a wife should be, and that just couldn’t stand. No, he’d agreed to be mine, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with breaking the rules on the very first day.
Spinning on my heel, I stalked back up the steps and toward his bedroom, which was the third door on the right of the hallway, but the moment I tried to turn the knob, it didn’t budge. He’d locked the door.
Fuck that.
