Page 77 of Obsessed with His Bride

She frowned and looked inside the stainless-steel refrigerator. It had three bottles of beer and nothing else. She shook her head and shut it again. “You really weren’t kidding.”

“Nope.” I turned away from the kitchen. “Come on.”

She followed me back through the dining space and up the steps. I took her down to the end of the hall, past two nearly empty guest rooms, filled only with a single queen bed without any blankets, pillows, or sheets, just a bare mattress on a streel frame. I opened my bedroom door and stomped inside.

It was as spare as the rest of the house. I had my clothes hung in the closet, a bed and a dresser, but not much else. I sat down on the edge of the bed and Aida lingered in the doorway, frowning around her.

“I gotta admit, I thought there’d be a little bit more… personality.”

I shook my head. “No time for that shit.”

“Your other house felt like a home.”

I stared at my hands and could hear the gunfire again. I saw Gino stumble out the back door, bright blooms of blood welling up in his chest as he took more wounds.

Leaving him there was the hardest decision I ever made, but he was dead. Nothing I could’ve done for him. I knew it the second he fell off the back step and his head slammed against the ground with a dull thud. In that moment, I knew I could stay and get myself killed too, or I could run and keep Aida safe.

So I jumped the fence and I ran.

That moment will haunt me for the rest of my life, I’m sure of it.

The thing is, I didn’t regret my choice. I couldn’t regret it. Aida was still safe, still with me, and still needed more protecting. She was everything to me, the whole reason I had Gino there in the first place was to keep her safe. If I had gotten my ass killed too, that would’ve made Gino’s death worthless.

Or maybe that was just selfish rationalization, I couldn’t say.

“That place was more of a home than this one.” I stood up again and let out a long sigh. “I need to shower.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip. “Right now?”

“Right now.” I unbuttoned my shirt and let it drop to the floor. I felt bruised and beaten up, but I wasn’t bleeding, wasn’t dying.

Small victories. I’d take them where I got them.

I took off my pants and slipped past Aida. I walked across the hall and into the bathroom. I had it redone last year with all new beige tile along the floor and walls, a new shower with a new tub, and new fixtures. Aida followed as I turned the water on, got it nice and hot, then stripped off my boxer briefs.

I didn’t care about anything else but getting under that water. I stepped inside and let it run down my skin. I took a sharp breath through my nose and let it out, closing my eyes. As soon as I did, I saw Gino again, saw his last moments.

But instead of feeling sadness and regret, only anger was left.

I stood there and let the water wash the grime away. I heard Aida undress, heard her take off her pants and top. She slipped into the shower with me, her body wet in moments. She turned me away from the water and let it run all down her body. I leaned back against the wall and admired her flat stomach, her round breasts and hard nipples. I watched her hair get soaked, her lips falling open as my cock began to stir.

Couldn’t help myself. Even after the shit we’d been through, I still wanted her.

She stepped toward me, pressing her body against mine. She was wet and slick and soft, and I cupped one breast in my hand as I kissed her. I tasted her deep and long, taking my time as my other hand moved down between her legs. I felt her pussy wet already, and I wondered if the girl got off on excitement, on action, on danger the same way that I did.

“Fuck,” I whispered in her ear. “Look at you. Dripping wet. Almost like we didn’t almost get killed.”

“Is it wrong if that makes me even wetter?” she asked. “I feel insane, Dante. But my heart won’t calm down.”

I bit her bottom lip and teased her pussy. “You like the rush,” I said. “Nothing wrong with that. Now you know it about yourself. Maybe that’s why you like being with me.”

She stared at me for a long moment. I kissed her breasts, licked her nipples, and switched positions with her. I pushed her against the wall, letting the water run down my chest, over my shoulders, and down my back as I lifted her wrists up above her head. I loved the way her breasts lifted with them, loved the long lines of her body.

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