AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’d laughed meanly back then because we’d had an agreement. She’d loved the idea of being my housewife when we’d first met. “You need to remember how a woman should talk, Beth. They don’t swear that way.”
She’d laughed in my face and told me to go to hell.
No, Bethany hadn’t been cut out to be my wife. She didn’t have what I wanted in a woman.
Quin glanced around the room again, a pitiful whimper leaving his mouth. Pathetic. But the way his pretty bottom lip popped out was sweet and endearing, so very womanly. “I could get a job. Pay rent. It’s only until I finish college. I have another year.”
An idea sparked in my mind, and I took a long moment to stare at him again. I imagined him in his mother’s position, wearing the light yellow dress she’d left here in the back of the closet—because it didn’t show enough skin—and the red-and-white apron with the words World’s Best Wife printed on the front beside some roses. Red high heels always matched the attire and made Bethany look beautiful, but I wondered if it would look good on Quin, too. It would certainly go well with his long legs.
I stroked my chin carefully, taking in the small shoulders and narrow face, and smirked. “I have a proposition for you, Princess.”
He stiffened and glared but didn’t push against the nickname again. I supposed if he was trying to stay here, he wouldn’t say too much, and that would help me get what I wanted—an obedient housewife, who took care of her husband in every way. She’d clean, cook, and most importantly, let her husband fuck her and breed her until he got her pregnant.
“What is it?” Quin asked quietly, his jaw twitching.
His dick.... Well, I could ignore that. He had an asshole I could use—a pretty little cunt that I could fuck until I bred him.
“Be my wife and let me breed you until I’m sick of you.”
2
QUINCY “QUIN” KISKADDEN
COLT STARED AT ME, clearly waiting for some sort of response. Part of me wanted to pick his empty glass up and hurl it at his head—very much like Mom would’ve—but the rest of me was simply flummoxed.
Okay, Colt’s out of his mind. Good old stepdaddy number seven. Does he realize he’s number seven? Shoot, he’s still looking at me. He wants to breed me. I didn’t hallucinate that, right? Someone has been watching too many YouTube shows “for the alpha male.” I didn’t think someone who wanted a trad wife would go after a man. Wow. Does that make me the victim of stereotypes? I bit my lip, and Colt cocked his head to the side, studying me. Nah. Jesus. Thanks for sticking me with this mess, Mom. You’re consistent, if nothing else.
“You’re disgusting,” I finally whispered.
Colt narrowed his eyes and shuffled back a step. “Am I?”
“Who says that to someone?” I tossed my hands up in the air, then felt like maybe that was part of the reason he had started down this path of calling me a princess, and I crossed my arms. It was like pinning down butterfly wings and I hated it.
He eyed up my hips as a slow smirk spread across his lips, and my stomach swooped as laugh lines crinkled in the corners of his eyes. Without warning, he began to outright laugh once more.
“I don’t identify as female. I can’t be your wife,” I snapped at him.
“Not with that attitude.” He winked. “You sure sound like one.”
Gasping, I glared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re getting on my nerves like a wife.”
I rolled my eyes. “Trust me, I’ve seen enough bad marriages. Good spouses shouldn’t get on each other’s nerves. Maybe that was the problem here.”
He hummed. “I agree. You should obey me like a good wife.”
Well, hell, I’d walked into that one.
He began to pace around me, moving wolflike, waiting for a weak point to plunge in and.... My skin prickled. And do what!? I squeezed my arms harder around myself.
He kept calling me princess and wanted a wife—clearly, he was after a woman, not a man. How mad could I actually be, though? This was better than Etienne, husband number three. We’d left Paris in the middle of the night, and Mom had forgotten our passports. She’d sent me back alone, and he’d waved a gun in my face before the neighbors had called the police. I’d gotten out of there with our paperwork, but I would never forget the look in his eyes. Mom had drained him dry. She really hadn’t been good to him.
But then again, he’d told me that he would be my father forever, no matter what happened, and I hadn’t heard from him since.
Etienne was a liar.
She’d basically been a saint to Colt in comparison. He’d never made any outlandish promises to me, though. I’d been nothing to him. I had no leg to stand on in this situation. I’d been on his radar about as much as the bolts of fabric Mom had left behind—maybe less.
