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"Not sure why you are angry, but I think the beast needs to be fed."
"You’re not sure why I am angry?" I straighten, "And I am sure your minions ensured the place is stocked with cat food."
"I did tell them to make sure to do so, yes," he admits.
I turn on him, "Well, don’t let me keep you from whatever it is you normally do when you come to your uppity island retreat." I stalk off in the direction of the kitchen. I know I am being unreasonable, but really, the fact that he could fit me so neatly into his schedule rankles a little bit… Okay, a lot. Also, I don’t want to admit it, but the fact that he’s been so thoughtful about making sure that Andy is taken care of… It paints him in a favorable light…which I am not happy about. He could try a little harder to be unlikeable, right? It doesn’t help that he’s decided to sweep me off to an island for some time off. An island that I am dying to explore. Gah!
I reach the kitchen, yank open the nearest shelf. Spices. This one is packed with spices. I slap it shut, pull open the next one. Dried pasta, loaves of bread, risotto rice, other packs of products with Italian names that I am not familiar with. I slam it shut, open the next one. This has pots and pans. The next one has plates and mugs. I yank open the drawer below it and find cutlery. "Argh!" I step back, survey the room. "Where the hell have you hidden it?"
He pulls open the door of the shelf closest to him, then reaches in and extracts a pack. I flounce over and grab it from him. Glancing around, I spy the bowls set out for food and water on the window ledge. "Of course, you’d even have his name engraved on the bowls, right?"
I stomp over to it, pour out the food, top up the water bowl. Before I can turn to call for Andy, the bloody cat pads over to me. He leaps onto the ledge and laps up the water. I watch him to make sure he’s happy to eat the cat food, then turn, brush past Michael and back to the bedroom.
"I think it’s presumptuous that you thought I’d share the bedroom with you."
"You’re my wife; of course, you’ll share my bed."
"And if I don’t want to?"
"You will."
"But I don't."
"You do."
I throw up my arms and turn on him, "And if I refuse?"
"Then I’d—"
"What?" I snap. "What would you do? Tie me to the bed until I agree to cooperate?"
"That’s not a bad idea." He tilts his head, "But I have a far simpler method."
"What?"
He slides his hand inside his pocket. The next moment, the plug between my arse cheeks vibrates.
20
Michael
I press down on the button of the remote control and she stiffens.
"What the—" she gapes. "You... I... Ahhhh!"
She looks about ready to strangle me and I smirk. I hadn’t meant to, but…it had been the easiest way to shut her up. Not that I don’t find the fact that she’s having a meltdown attractive. Hell, I love every mood of hers… None more so than when she’s angry enough that her green eyes dart sparks at me and color fills her cheeks. But when I slid my hand in my pocket, my fingers brushed over the button, and I couldn’t resist. I simply wanted to see what her reaction would be.
And I am not disappointed when she sputters, "How…how dare you? That’s so underhanded of you."
"You think?" I allow my smile to widen and she plants her hands on her hips.
"Argh, you are so damn annoying."
"Admit it. You like it, though."
"The only thing I admit is that I am going to take that goddam butt plug out right now." She pivots, marches toward the door.
I call out, "Stop, Beauty."
