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Thirty-Two
Inessa
“What’swith the stick up your ass recently?”
Eoghan grunted. “Sassy.”
Grinning, I slipped my arms around his waist and peered around his bicep to look at him in the mirror.
Okay, I did more than peer.
I pretty much drooled as I took in his naked top half, and when I messed with the waistband of his shorts, he scowled at me.
“You trying to give me a boner?”
“Don’t have to try very hard, do I?” I retorted, watching the bulge in his pants grow with satisfaction.
“Shouldn’t be so sexy.”
“I didn’t technically do anything.”
“Apart from start playing with my shorts. That’s the green light if ever there was one.”
“I never said there was a stop light. Go and shower off the gunk and I’m all for you fucking me on the weight bench.”
“The weight bench?” He arched a brow. “We haven’t done that yet, have we?”
“Nope. Not since we broke the last one.” I tugged on his waistband again. “Anyway, we can do that after.”
“After, what? I shower?”
“Well, after your shower and after our conversation. Ya know, about why you’re all grouchy.
"I’m not sure if a guy who gets laid as much as you should really be so grouchy. There needs to be a law against it or something.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not grouchy.”
“Sure you are.” I tilted my head to the side. “Is it because I decided to go to college?”
“No,” he scoffed. “If anything, I’m glad about that. You’re too fucking smart to be drifting around these rooms like Bloody Mary just waiting to be invoked.”
“Wow. That’s really how you see me? An evil spirit just waiting to make people miserable?” I snorted. “Thanks, babe.”
I reached down and grabbed his junk. He didn’t flinch, and while I hadn’t really tried to hurt him, the threat had been there, and I was reminded once again of what my husband had gone through over the years.
I was looking at G.I. Joe in the flesh. Except his hurts weren’t sliced into plastic but flesh and bone, and his mind was… well, the nightmares had started up again.
Because hedidn’tflinch or chide me, just carried on with his bicep curls, I let go of him and frowned. “Eoghan, you’re starting to worry me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re being weird.”
The joys of marriage had come as a surprise to both of us, I knew. Victoria moving in had definitely been a curveball, but she was out at school a lot, and she spent most of her time in her room anyway.
Thank God we were filthy rich because our bedroom was at the other end of the hall to hers, and because Eoghan’s work was flexible, if he really wanted me to scream, we did that stuff through the day.
Adjustments were key.
