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I just…can’t.
It was all too much. Had gone too far. And I couldn’t sit there any longer.
“Okay!” I shouted and hopped to my feet, damn near shoving Magic Mark to the ground as I strode through our small living room area, waving my hands maniacally to see past the goddamn smoke, and straight to the bathroom.
I found the portable Bluetooth speaker that was hooked up to one of their iPhones and clicked it off as fast as I could.
“What the fluff?” Cassie shouted. But I was too far gone in stripper-shitshow-weirdness to hold back what I was thinking and feeling in order not to trigger those pregnancy hormones of hers to go apeshit on me.
I clicked on the lights and met her eyes. “Magic Mark and Emma Bone, you guys are doing great, really, but if you’ll excuse us for just a minute, I need to have a chat with my wife.”
Apparently, every man had a breaking point.
Surprisingly, even me.
“Thatcher? What are you doing?” I questioned, but he just shook his head and pointed toward the door of the suite.
“Hallway, Cass,” he demanded.“Now.”
And just like that, he was out the door, leaving me and the strippers behind.
Emma Bone’s eyes were wide as hell, and Magic Mark stood there with his eerily hard penis that he’d been joyously swinging around mere seconds ago. It was still hard, but I was pretty sure he utilized some sort of cock ring. Either that or he’d taken like ten Viagra before he’d arrived. No dick, not even the Supercock, could defy gravity for that long without some kind of help.
“Everything okay?” Emma asked, and I nodded.
“Of course. Of course. You two just…uh…make yourselves at home. I’ll be right back.”
Out of my chair and to my feet, I strode past our confused strippers, through the smoke cloud that still hovered in the air, and out the front door of our suite.
My husband stood on the opposite end of the hall, his back pressed firmly against the wall, his arms crossed in a way that made his biceps muscles look insanely hot, and his mouth was set in a firm scowl.
It was almost like he was pissed. At me.
Which…that was fucking insane,right?
I’d just ordered two hot strippers to come to our hotel suite and dry-hump us. If that wasn’t Wife of the Year material, I didn’t know what the hell was. Surely statues were being erected in my honor right that very minute.
“What the fluffing fluff, T?”
“It’s too much, Cass,” he answered, straightforward and to the point. “I can’t go back in there if I have to watch Magic Mark flop his dick around in your face. Or worse, my face. No thank you. Not doing it.”
“What about Emma Bone?” I questioned, putting a defiant hand to my hip. “You seemed to bereallyenjoying her twerk show.”
Truthfully, it felt as if he’d been enjoying it a little too much for my taste, and that might’ve been when I decided to insist on a stripper switch…
Might’ve been? It definitely was, you asshole.
Emma was hot. She had a nice firm ass and perky boobs. And I’d always considered myself more of a “You go, girl! Shake what your momma gave you!” kind of chick.
So, it wasn’t that she made me feel insecure about myself.
It was just that…Thatch wasmyhusband. If he was enjoying watching anyone shake their goodies around, it should’ve been mine.
“Really enjoying her twerk show?” he retorted and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Honey, don’t get pissed at me for saying this, but I wasn’t enjoying anything about what was going down in that room.”
“You’re such a liar,” I retorted. “I saw you when her ass cheeks started vibrating up and down like a goddamn washer and dryer. You looked overjoyed.”
“Because she was keeping her fucking distance from me!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. I stared at him with shocked but focused eyes.
