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My insides quiver, and my mouth turns dry. I turn toward Blakely, not wanting to believe she would want anyone to touch her but me. She was clear when she signed our contract she didn't want anyone else involved in our relationship.
That was before our issues.
I'm suddenly unable to know for sure, so Papi is right. She did come in here. What if what I've been giving her isn't what she wants?
She gapes at Papi, her chest rising and falling faster.
"Well? What do you want, Mrs. Madden? The sky is the limit in here. Whatever you want, your husband will have to give it to you tonight."
My stomach spins so fast bile flies up my throat. I barely swallow it down.
She lifts her chin and squares her shoulders. Her lips quiver as she states, "Only my husband has the authority to touch me."
Amusement and disappointment swirl in his expression. His eyes turn to slits as he studies her.
"You heard her. I'm sorry again that we interrupted your session," I restate and move Blakely toward the door.
"Stop, Riggs," Papi demands.
I freeze, close my eyes for a brief moment, then lift my chin. I spin us toward him again.
He questions, "Where are you going?"
"This isn't our area."
"It is tonight."
I run my thumb on the back of Blakely's waist, trying to calm her. She's shaking harder against me, and I don't know if it's pure fear or something else.
Either way, I need more time to figure it out, and I don't have it. Papi issues a threat, stepping forward and lowering his voice. "There are only two options here, Riggs."
I scowl, stating, "No, there aren’t."
"Yes, there are You interrupted my session, and I get to decide the punishment. Option one is you go on stage and find out why your wife agreed to come to this club without you and into my area. Or, your membership will be terminated for repeated disobedience," he warns.
Not only did I never think I would break a rule, but I suddenly don't care about my membership. All I want is to be with my wife, and I'll be damned if I put her through this. I snarl, "Then cancel my membership."
The room gasps.
Papi's head jerks backward. He blurts out, "You don't mean that."
"I'm not—"
"We'll do it," Blakely interjects, her voice cracking.
I turn toward her, sliding my hands over her cheeks, declaring, "No. I don't care about this place anymore. All I care about is you. We'll go home and talk about this, but not here."
Her defiant expression erupts on her face, making my cock hard. I hate myself for it. She challenges, "No. We aren't getting kicked out."
"You don't have to do this. We'll talk at home," I repeat.
She swallows hard, claiming, "I'm not going home with you, Riggs."
More gasps fill the air. Anger, hurt, and disappointment whip through me, mercilessly beating me with new force. "You don't know what you're saying."
She blinks harder. "I do."
"No. You don't."
