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One.
Two.
And…
“Where the fuck are my clothes?” Just as I expected, Francesca was back, marching angrily towards me.
“In our room!” I said with a victory grin on my face.
“In your room!”
“No. In our room.”
“I’m not sleeping with you. My only promise was not to leave, nothing else.”
“Fine, then go get your clothes. You know perfectly well how to defend yourself. What’s stopping you?” I sarcastically teased her.
“YOU! I don’t trust you!” She hissed in what seemed forced disgust.
I let a wide, wicked grin spread across my face before replying “No, my dear. You don’t trust yourself around me.”
Before she could storm off, I pulled her against me, my hand landing right on her ass and slowly gliding up.
“No guns in the house, Honey.” I took the weapon from under her jacket before kneeling and taking the knife she had strapped to her leg. “You might have the sudden urge to kill me.”
“Oh, Honey, there’s nothing sudden about it.” She replied, holding my gaze, trying to hide the goosebumps that my touch ignited all over her body. “But when I do it, I won’t be needing guns. It will be up close and very fucking personal. My hands will do just fine.”
“I can’t fucking wait,” I teased, slowly walking away while my cock twitched against my zipper so hard for her that it fucking hurt.
Chapter 18
Francesca
Matt was right.
I didn’t trust myself around him. It was a mystery where I got the strength to peel away from him, from that kiss.
I was trying with every ounce of my being to think with my brain and not with my heart, or my pussy, for that matter. They were both giving me an extremely hard time. My heart was weak, and in there, everything was already forgiven and forgotten as soon as I saw that glimpse of despair in his eyes when he thought something had happened to me.
As for my pussy… It was weeping for him as soon as my eyes landed on those bulging muscles holding a gun in my direction.
But I couldn’t do it again.
The same mistakes.
I had to know for sure that he wasn’t consciously doing what I saw. If that was true, who the hell would want to set him up like that, and why? I could understand trying to murder him, kidnap him, or even torture him. I’d felt the urge to do that last one myself a few times during the last couple of days. Trying to mess with our relationship was different. More personal.
After our stand-off, Matt had left me to pick up the pieces of myself while he disappeared into the master bedroom.
When he returned, I was snapped out of my thoughts by his strong, deep voice behind me. “You can stay in our room, it’s bigger and more comfortable. All your stuff is in there anyway. I’ll take the spare.” He said, holding a bunch of his clothes in his arms that he’d probably taken from the closet in the master bedroom.
I looked at him, again taken by surprise by the small, seemingly insignificant gesture that spoke volumes. It wasn’t like he was giving up his life for me, but still, it was a thoughtful and chivalrous thing to do. But it didn’t even take a minute before he ruined it with that big fat mouth of his.
“Oh, and by the way, your vibrator is in the top drawer of the dresser. I’m assuming it will come in handy to finish what we started.” My cheeks burned in embarrassment while his devilish grin spread his lips, noticing my discomfort.
“Again, who the hell gave you the right to go through my stuff?” I spat in somewhat of a fake annoyance, but in truth, I tried as hard as hell to hide the laughter rumbling through my chest.
I wasn’t supposed to have brought the damn thing with me. But I didn’t want my mother to find it in my stuff if she decided to go on one of her cleaning rants. So, that wonderful decision brought me here, with my face tinted the brightest shade of red, because of my husband’s mocking glare.
