“No,” I hear myself say, shocking the hell out of myself.
Apparently, it shocks Ami too, though less than it surprised me. Her nostrils flare like she’s just scented something disgusting. Shit on the bottom of her boot. Less than shit. I don’t know, but I hate that her eyes flicker over me and there is zero spark in them. As if getting angry with me isn’t even worth the effort.
“Tell me, Ami,” I say, because suddenly I want to piss her off. I want to see the flames burning in those dark depths, thesame flicker betraying her spirit as the day we were married. Even if it’s flames of anger and defiance, I want them back, burning. “How many times have you cheated on me?”
Nope. No flames. Her lips part and her tongue dances out, wetting them. I can tell before she even speaks that she’s going to lie to me.
“I’ve lost count.”
I chuckle, but it’s not the kind of sound that has any mirth in it. I know that, towering over her, I look like a demon in leather and denim, a dark shadow, and I milk it for all it’s worth.
“It’s not cheating if neither of us wanted to be married in the first place. We both know this marriage was a sham. My father got what he wanted. There isn’t going to be any war between your club and my family, so just sign the fucking papers and let’s get on with it.” She stands slowly but has the nerve to lean forward and wave the stack of white right under my nose.
She might as well be a bull fighter waving that shit around because I see fucking red. I want to charge at her, force her back against those steps, spread her legs and bury my face there until she is forced to admit to me that she’s my wife and we really are legitimately married. I want her to apologize for what she said about me, for the way she left, for what she made my brothers think. I want her writhing on my face, coming on my tongue, her shapely legs wrapped around my shoulders, her screams alerting the neighbors.
Yeah. Not going to happen.
Instead I snatch the papers out of her hand. She stares at me hopefully for a split second before she lets out an outraged gasp.
Because instead of going inside and finding a pen, I throw that shit straight down where it belongs on the ground.
“What the fuck?” Ami hisses as I unzip my jeans and whip out my dick.
Her eyes fly to my face, and her cheeks are scarlet, but yeah, there’s no way she’s watching me. I don’t give a fuck. This isn’t about my dick. Well… it’shardlyabout my dick.
It’s. About. Me. And. Her.
I let out a satisfying sigh as I piss on all her fucking papers, and after—when I’ve squeezed out every last drop—I zip myself back into my jeans and turn to study her.
That red that crept up into her cheeks is now full-on anger.And oh yeah. Those flames are blazing. Dancing in her depths. They’re fucking beautiful. I’m no moth and she’s no flame, but I find myself admiring her spirit. She’s a spitfire. Untamable. Guys would laugh in my face if they found out that I’d even thought about trying.
“This isnotover,” she sputters. “I’m gonna get another copy of those and you will sign them or I’ll file for something else. I’m not gonna quit until I’m free of you.”
She storms off down the driveway and gets into her car and literally manages to screech the tires in a front wheel drive, in her haste to get the hell away from me.
After she’s gone, I stand there staring after her, a stupid, self-satisfied grin splitting my face.
Because what she doesn’t know yet is that she’s never going to be free of me.
Fucking ever.
Chapter 3
Ami
“Oh no. Hell fucking no. A thousand times, no.”
I roll my eyes as I brush past my sister and her protesting husband, my duffel bag slung over my shoulder. “Nice to see you too, Wraith,” I mutter, as I push into their house.
“Wraith,” Leena mutters, putting her hand on his arm. “It’s alright. I told her she could sleep on the couch for a few nights, just until she gets what she came for.”
“Which is?” Wraith demands as he follows behind me like an annoying lost puppy.
The living room isn’t hard to spot, since their house is so small. The couch looks uncomfortable, but at the moment, I’m not going to be choosy. I know I should go back to Tampa and go to my lawyer’s office and get another set of papers instead of asking her to fax them down here to Helena, but I can’t help it. Going back would be like running with my tail tucked between my legs and I have too much pride for that.
Maybe if he hadn’t pissed all over them. Pissed all over me in the process. He might as well have laughed in my face and told me to go fuck myself.
Challenge fucking accepted.
