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Conor groans. “Don’t do anything stupid, Shane.”
“As if I would.”
“You wouldn’t rather just go upstairs right now, tell her you’re an asshole and that you need to fuck her more than you need your next breath?” Liam suggests. God, I love how much of an optimist he is. But that’s not gonna happen, and even Conor even rolls his eyes at the suggestion.
“Nope. Gonna go with the fight and the spanking. Thanks, boys. We’ll see you Monday.”
“Good luck, bro.”
I end the call. I don’t need luck, but I do need to start a fight with my wife that will piss her off the exact right amount.
Her phone vibrates on the counter, and a message flashes on the screen. It’s from Hugh.
Hey, girl. I hope I’m gonna see your fine ass this week. I miss you.
Hugh is the head bartender at The Peacock Club, the part of our business which Jessie oversees. He’s also gay, and he’s a good friend to her and my twin brothers. I know everything there is to know about the guy, including how he’s been in a committed relationship with his high school psych teacher for the past four years. And if I had any inkling at all that he had any kind of sexual interest in my wife, I would cut off his dick and shove it up his ass before I tossed him into the Hudson. Still, I can use this. I used to be the kind of jealous asshole who would break a man’s arm if she so much as smiled at him. I’d still kill any man who touched her, so it doesn’t take much to pretend to be pissed at her about the text.
She’s naked in the bedroom, holding my T-shirt like she’s about to put it on, and I hold up her phone. “What the fuck is this?”
Squinting, she steps closer and a smile spreads across her face. “Aw, I haven’t seen him for a while. I wasn’t in the club much last week.”
I snarl. “Your fine ass?”
She opens her mouth, her brows knitted in a frown. “It’s just Hugh. He doesn’t?—”
“Just Hugh? Are you fucking kidding me, Jessie?”
“Shane, come on. You know he’s gay. One hundred percent gay. He has a huge crush on Conor.”
I look at the screen again. “It’s not Conor’s ass he’s calling fine though, is it?” I step closer until my body is flush with hers and her perfect tits press tantalizingly against my chest.
“He’s just being…” She rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t mean?—”
Ah, the eye roll. Perfect! “Did you just roll your fucking eyes at me?”
“Yes, because you’re being a complete asshole.”
I screw my eyes closed and try to summon all the fake rage I can muster. “Some fuck-knuckle is texting you about missing you and your fine ass, and I’m the asshole?”
She folds her arms across her chest. “Yes! Hugh is my friend.”
I palm the back of her neck, squeezing possessively. “How about I go find your friend and cut his heart out while it’s still beating?”
Her cheeks turn pink. “Shane! You can’t. He’s… He doesn’t mean?—”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want, Jessie. And when it comes to you, I will.”
Her eyes narrow in defiance. “What the hell are you going to do?”
Dipping my head, I run my teeth over her jawline and make her shiver. “How about I start with punishing your fine ass, and then I’ll decide how to handle Hugh.”
Her breath hitches, and the blush in her cheeks races down her neck and chest. I fist my hand in her hair, tilting her head back so I can look into her eyes. “You’re going to do whatever the fuck I tell you to do, Jessie, if you want to save your buddy.”
I release my grip on her hair, but she remains gazing up at me, her eyes wide as she sinks her teeth into her lush bottom lip. Not taking my eyes off her, I walk backward and sit on the chair in the corner of the room. Her perfect tits shudder with each breath.
I sink back in the seat and let my gaze roam over her perfect body, raking over every curve and every delicious inch of skin that I own. “Crawl to me.”
She arches an eyebrow.
