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“So thank you for your offer, Danny,” Beau says, standing, “but I will graciously decline.”
“How good of you.” I look at James. “This is not acceptable.”
He ignores me, his attention on Beau, quietly seething. “We’re married. We’re supposed to discuss things.”
Planting her hands on the table, she leans in. “Let’s discuss why we can’t go on our honeymoon.”
James’s big body wilts in the chair, while I heave in mine, furious. Rose stands and gathers her things, stuffing them into her handbag. “Excuse me, I have to check on the spa.” She breezes off, and I’m up fast, going after her.
I rest my palm on her neck from behind, walking with her, squeezing threateningly.
“You don’t scare me, Danny Black.”
I laugh at the irony, because she fucking terrifies me. “You’ll be punished for this.” I slide my hand into her hair and clench a fistful and, true to my wife, she jars her head, forcing the pull.
“Can’t wait.”
“Tomorrow night, we’re going out.” I’ve got to tell her about Sandy to be graced with her compliance. I’m not looking forward to it, expecting fireworks.
But bottom line, the girls’ freedom is going to be curbed again, and that’s going to go down as well as a pot of puke.
12
BRAD
* * *
Rose leaves, Danny leaves, Beau leaves, and James leaves. I, however, can’t move. Every muscle’s tense, my fists are balling on the table, and my jaw’s about to snap. She quit. I should be thrilled. Especially considering her accidental revelation. A fucking virgin. How?
My back stings, my shoulder blades pulling in to try and curb it. Curb the reminder of being buried inside her. The quietness, the calm, the stillness in that moment. Every minute of my life has been full throttle. Fast paced. From work to bed. In bed too. Hard, fast, and furious. With Pearl, there was an undercurrent of concord I never knew I needed and, fuck my life, I understood for a brief moment why Danny and James yielded to their women. The release of pressure. The escape. The appreciation and adoration for a strong woman.
Fuck.
Pearl reaches for her hair and tucks it behind her ear, and I watch, mentally yelling at myself not to. But her delicate fingers. The creaminess of her flesh against the vivid red of her hair. Those intense green eyes.
I wrench my stare away and frantically search for something to focus on, unable to do what I need to do and leave the table. My legs are rigid. I find a bottle of water and snatch it up, guzzling it down. Parched. The atmosphere is thick. Worse than it ever was. I watch the lid of the bottle as I slowly screw it on, working on convincing myself to stand. I can’t, and the longer I sit here, I get more and more worked up, wishing Pearl would do what I can’t seem to do.
Leave.
I’m a glutton. I must be, because I look at her. She’s writing on the file, appearing relaxed, comfortable, oblivious to my presence. It stokes the frustration. “You should have told me.”
Her writing hand stills, her eyes remaining on the file. “Why?” She doesn’t look up.
“You owed me that.”
Laughing sardonically under her breath, she clicks the end of the pen. And then she looks up. Worst thing she could do. “You want an explanation?” she asks. “Maybe I want one.”
“What the fuck for?”
“For saving my life and for being a complete arsehole since you did.”
She does not want an explanation for that. But does she really fucking need one after last night? Fuck this. “A man should know if he’s a woman’s first.”
Her head cocks in interest. “So they can be gentle?” she asks, resting the pen down and her body back in the chair.
“No, so they can bail.”
She flinches but tries to hide it. And then she laughs again. I can’t blame her. Nothing would have stopped me in that moment, but I’ll never admit it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she says, placid and calm, like she truly means it, then gathers the file and stands. My eyes lift with her. “Let’s just forget it ever happened.”
