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This is how fucking crazy she has me, and I don’t like it.
It also does not help that she acts like a spoilt brat every time she sees me lately. Like the very sight of my face just annoys her.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I could have put her over my knee and made her count while I give her ass a smack. It’s like she’s testing my resolve because now she knows that I get off on spanking and making her beg me and saypleasewhile I do it.
What’s even more awkward is when the guys ask me about my love life while she’s around. Boys being boys and all, and while I’ve not been with another woman since her, I have to make it out like I’m too busy to get any pussy right now, when what I really want is staring me straight in the face, challenging me. Teasing me. Testing me. Well, even I know that a man’s resolve can only last for so long before something gives.
Then there’s the sickening thought that she’s been with another man. Which she’d have every right to do, under normal circumstances. The fact that she’s mine and nobody else's hasn’t quite registered in my own brain, much less hers. But I know Valentina doesn’t sleep around.
I’ve known that for a long time, long before we ever hooked up. It’s one of the qualities I like about her, but also can’t fathom it because it means she has to have deep feelings for the person. Like Toby.
How anyone could feel anything for that bag of shit is beyond me.
I’m keeping an eye on him and his business dealings, and if he steps out of line or even contacts Valentina—I’ve had Vaughn tap his phone—then he’ll be fucking sorry. I’m not done with him just yet.
If I told Angelo about the altercation, he’d be sending Rocco around to rip his throat out and sink him to the bottom of the Charles. At the time, when we got back from Connecticut, there was a shitstorm going on much bigger than Toby fucking Whinthorpe. But his time will come.
Of that, I am sure.
Saturday night rolls around and Rocco, and I are on babysitting duty, since Dom, Angelo’s right-hand man, is still recovering from being shot.
My eyes almost bust out of my head when I see what Valentina is wearing.
Rocco waits in the car as I step out to her door.
As it’s Bianca’s birthday, the girls insisted on hiring a limo. I hate the damn things, but Rocco doesn’t seem to mind. I think it’s a nice change for him from his usual gruesome duties.
I stare at her tiny little sequin dress and contemplate marching her back into the barn to change into a potato sack… or something a little more… conservative.
It’s gold and sparkly, barely covers her ass, and the top barely covers her tits.
I don’t know what she’s trying to prove, but when I glance down at her tan-colored thigh-high boots, I can’t hold back anymore.
“You’re not going out in that,” I say as she closes the barn door behind her.
She looks up at me, her face blank. Her makeup is too heavy, her eyeliner thick, and she has fake lashes on.
I want to take her back inside and wipe her face clean with a washcloth while I’m at it.
“Hello to you too, E,” she snarks, securing her cross-body bag over one shoulder. “And I don’t remember asking you for permission to comment or tell me what I can and can’t wear, or do, for that matter.”
I block her exit.
“I’m serious. You look like you’re a fucking lady of the night.”
She smiles. Clearly nothing I say will evoke the kind of reaction I’d like.
“That is actually the point. I’m feeling lucky tonight, so who knows, I might find a nice man to take me home.”
I cage her in against her door and growl in her ear. “Don’t even fucking try it, Val. I will do what I did at the wedding and haul you over my shoulder.”
She laughs. “I don’t get how you think you get to tell me what to do. You’re hilarious, by the way.”
I pull my face back to meet hers. Her expression is triumphant, like I fell right into her trap.
She knew I was on the job tonight, and she’s going all out to make sure that she punishes me every single moment that I spend with her.
“The only thing hilarious will be your sore ass when I spank that filthy talk out of your mouth.”
