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“You’re both cruel!” Violet yelps as her bodyguard power walks around the room with her. He zigzags at random points and makes multiple 360-degree turns.
“Clock starts as soon as your ass hits the ground!” I walk as I talk, so she doesn’t have a bearing on her place in the room.
When Manuel finishes giving her a good shaking, he sets her down. Though the man committed to his attempts to disorient her, he sets Violet on the thick mat as if she were made of glass. He takes two steps back, then stops, crossing his arms as he looms over her.
“I can tell you’re there,” Violet accuses. “I wouldn’t try to get my bindings off in front of the kidnapper, right, Luna?”
“Good instincts.” I smile across the way at my pupil even though she can’t see me. I nod at Manuel, and he stalks toward the exit, opening the door and then shutting it with a bang without stepping through. That’s when I start the timer, and one of country music’s biggest stars begins writhing around on the ground like a worm at a rave hyped up on ecstasy.
As Violet works to get loose, my mind flips back to her casually suggestive questions. And from there it’s a short leap to my kitchen and sitting on that countertop.
I may have had the high ground, but Charlie dominated me. The way he coaxed my pleasure to the surface as if he understood every secret my body has ever tried to hide. My nipples tighten at the memory, and I cross my arms over my chest so the points pressing against my sports bra don’t show.
My attention gets pulled back to Violet when her restraints snap. She tears off her blindfold with a whoop of triumph. My thumb presses to stop the timer, but I give her my sternest look.
“Sorry.” My friend ducks her head. “Next time I will celebrate my victory quietly.”
I nod and show her the time, and she grins wide. “I bet I can beat that.”
And if Violet weren’t rubbing her wrists like the reddened skin pained her, then I might go another round. But these lessons are meant to keep her from getting hurt, not cause injury.
“Next session we’ll go again. For now, I think we need to revisit rule number one.”
Violet groans. Manuel tilts his head side to side, loosening the muscles in his neck as he moves to stand near the door, hand on the handle.
I don’t let the country singer’s—admittedly adorable—pout sway me. “When you sense danger, what is the first rule?” I use my coldest instructor’s tone.
She rolls to her feet and heads toward the exit.
“Run.”
ChapterThirty-Six
CHARLIE
For the past three nights, Pig has crawled into my bed, eventually followed by my wife.
The sleeping arrangement always stays platonic, with the snoring dog between us. Nothing like what happened in the kitchen. The first morning after, I told Luna nothing had to change about our arrangement. I expect nothing more than what we originally agreed to.
She’d given a firm nod, told me that sounded good, then accepted the bag lunch I packed her and left for work.
Since then, things have been…odd.
Almost like hooking up in the kitchen opened Luna up to more physical closeness. But nothing sexual. I don’t know where I stand, but I’m just glad we’re not over.
And that we’re sharing a bed.
Luna left the covers a few minutes ago, and I can hear her beginning of the day routine down the hall in her bathroom. Palming my morning wood, I wait ’til I hear her shower running before climbing out of bed and ducking into the guest bathroom.
Thoughts of my wife fill my head when I grip myself in the shower. The gasps she made and the rake of her nails against my skull. By the time I’m out and drying myself off, the slam of the front door lets me know she’s gone. I wasn’t intentionally dodging her. Luna’s schedule changes daily based on her clients, which means I haven’t been able to plan to be in the kitchen with her when she’s making breakfast. Some days it happens, other days Pig and I have the house to ourselves.
To avoid thoughts about the uncertainty of my relationship with my wife, I try to focus on my life plan. But just like every other day this month, time passes, and I still have no solution.
Pig is no help. The dog trots beside me now, tongue lolling out the side of her wide mouth as she happily pants after her hour of tussling in the dog park. We could have gone straight home afterward. Pig got plenty of exercise. No need to walk along this city sidewalk.
But with nothing to do at the house other than clean, I find myself drawn to a place that calms me.
C & M’s Guitar Studio.
