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“Okay, but then you need to wear jeans.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to wear.” That wasn’t how this worked.
“Then I’m not going.” She crossed her arms over her chest, challenging him with a look.
He’d call her bluff if he didn’t want to fuck her so badly. Ethan was right. The Club was the perfect place to put her libido into overdrive. “I don’t own jeans.”
“I guess we can go shopping together.”
“You will pay for this.”
“Oh, no.” She grabbed another pastry puff from the plate. “We’re married. This is coming out of your account.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” She grinned. “You’ll try to get me back somehow, but you shouldn’t have warned me. You know that saying. Forewarned is forearmed.”
He nodded. She had no idea the kind of payment disobedience to him required, but he’d teach her and enjoy every torturously pleasurable moment.
CHAPTER 33: Harker
Harker closed his computer and stood, stretching. He was exhausted. After he and Alison had finished eating, they’d both gone back to work. It was well past midnight.
He left the room and headed down the hallway toward his bedroom. It was going to seem like forever before the weekend arrived. The best thing he could do was pretend like it was a month ago. He’d lived almost a year lusting after her in secret, he could handle a few more days. He just had to forget that she was his bride and she now belonged to him. Mind over matter. Stick to his routine. He flipped on his bedroom light. “Son of a bitch.”
Alison was sleeping in his bed as if she belonged there. She did belong there. She was his wife. He had the right to crawl into bed and wake her with kisses on her neck, her lips, her breasts, across her abdomen and down to the juncture between her legs. She’d be wet for him and aching. He’d kiss her pussy, her moans of pleasure urging him on.
His dick which he’d bored into a coma with work, had perked up and was ready to play. He hadn’t had sex in way too long. If Ethan hadn’t interrupted him and Dahlia, he wouldn’t be so fucking hard right now at the sight of a woman covered in a mound of blankets, but she wasn’t some woman. She was his wife, and he hadn’t touched her yet…because she didn’t want him.
She rolled over, blinking as she sat up. “What’s wrong? Why are you standing there?”
“You’re in my bed.”
“Huh?”
“Why are you in my bed? You have a room.”
“I thought…We’re married and…” Her eyes filled with hurt as she turned to get out of bed. “Sorry. I’ll go.”
“Don’t.” He felt like a complete ass. “It’s okay. I was just surprised.”
“I should’ve asked. It’s not like this is a real marriage.” She stood.
His gaze ran down her body. She wore the least sexy outfit he’d ever seen. It looked like a child’s pajamas. It was plaid and the bottoms were long and so baggy he couldn’t even make out a hint of her ass. The top was no better. It was buttoned up to her neck. She certainly hadn’t worn this to entice him and yet, he was enticed. He wanted to unbutton her top, kissing ever bit of skin he revealed, tasting it with his tongue and lips until she writhed beneath him.
“I thought we’d share a bed. My parents did but I get it. We’ll only be together when we…you know.” She walked toward him, her eyes still sad.
He should tell her it was okay and that she could stay in his bed. The problem with that was he wouldn’t last a night let alone a week without touching her. He couldn’t risk it. If she laughed again, he didn’t think he’d survive. So instead, he said, “It’s best this way.”
“Yeah. Good night.” She smiled as she walked past him, but her lips trembled, and her lashes were damp from blinking away her tears.
It took everything he had not to call her back, but instead he closed the door, stripped and dropped onto his bed, shutting his eyes and grabbing his dick as he imagined peeling her out of those awful pajamas.
CHAPTER 34: Harker
Harker had thought he’d been in hell all week knowing Alison was his wife and not being able to touch her but that was just a prelude. This. This was hell. He glanced at his watch. They’d been at the mall for over three hours. Three Hours! And she still hadn’t found even one dress or skirt. He’d bought his jeans in under twenty minutes. “Just pick a skirt and let’s go eat.”
“I have to find something that looks good. Slimming.” She held the skirt up to her body. “And you’re no help.”
