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“You’re about to get hurt,” he growls, but he still doesn’t move. “You should step away now.”
I should listen to his threat, but I don’t.
Because, you know, good wife and all.
My hand that has been sitting on his waist drops a little lower through his manicured pubes until it reaches the base of his cock. He sucks in a breath as my fingers wrap around the shaft, and I feel myself getting wet between my legs at his reaction.
My body stays pressed against his, and I’m waiting for him to push me away, but he does nothing, simply stands there, statue-like. I have to pause to make sure he’s breathing because he’s so quiet.
“Darling, you don’t know what you just did.”
Well, doesn’t that sound like another delicious threat, and with a few swift movements, my hands have dropped and he’s facing me, both our hands down by our sides. When I look up at his eyes, I see hunger written all over his face.
His hands remain clenched as if he’s worried about what he might do with them. I’ve heard stories about the brothers. Joey was always considered the nice one—deadly, but nice. I suppose he was nice to begin with, that is until I crossed him. And I’ve crossed him in many ways.
You would think he didn’t want me from every word that leaves his mouth, but his cock is telling me otherwise. Stepping another inch closer, I place my feet on top of his and wrap my hands around his neck, basically trying to crawl up his body. I hook one leg around his ass, then the other, and just when I think I’m about to drop to the shower floor, his hands grip both my ass cheeks and squeeze hard. So hard, I’m pretty sure his fingers are digging in and will leave bruises.
Goddamn, it feels incredible.
I need, no want, this man badly.
Our bodies are synced, and my pussy is throbbing so hard that I physically can’t get any closer unless he is inside me.
The water falls over us, and his hair flops in his eyes as I lean in to kiss him. But he pulls back, which makes me stop. I try again, and he does the exact same thing.
“We aren’t here to make love. This is hate-fucking and that’s all this will ever be. Do you fucking understand?”
Well, then.
Fuck him.
“Just fuck me already and get it over and done with.”
Joey’s hands release their hold, and I slide down his body until I’m standing. Then he walks out, leaving me in the rapidly cooling water.
TWENTY-THREE
JOEY
Who the fuck says that? Why on earth would you say that as you’re climbing my fucking body, wanting me to stick my cock into your fucking cunt? I stormed out without even bothering to grab my towel.
She follows me out. I can hear her tiny little footsteps coming up behind me.
“Joey!” she screams, but I don’t bother stopping. “Joey, are you a pussy cunt bitch?”
That makes me spin around and face her. “What the fuck did you just say?” I’m trying to keep my anger out of this situation, but I can’t with her. She infuriates me on every level possible. I want to do things I know I shouldn’t—yell obscenities, put my fist through the wall, pick up the closest thing and throw—but instead, I stand there taking in what’s in front of me. Adora’s hand is on her naked hip, which is pushed out to one side in a defiant stance. She doesn’t give one damn fuck that she’s completely bare in front of me. Fuck, I don’t even care that I’m naked too. Most women try to cover themselves and regain some modesty while standing there, ready for a fight. But no, not her.
Adora’s hair is dripping wet and dangling over her shoulders and the expression on her face is one of enraged fury. Her eyes pin me. They are that hard and flinty, her cheeks could not be any redder, and that body is so tense her muscles will be sore tomorrow.
I was hoping the woman I married would be calm and sweet, yet I’m stuck with the Devil herself.
What do they call a woman devil?
A she-devil?
A deviless?
“You heard me.”
