Four, he was whiney.
Okay, maybe not that fourth one so much until just this minute.
“I’m going to work.” He frowned hard at me.
I idly wondered if that frown of his worked on other people, or if it was only me who was immune to his anger. Maybe it was because I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Or maybe it was because I could see the excitement in his eyes when I fought with him.
I could also see the hard column of his cock that was straining the front of his black tactical pants that he wore while he was teaching.
“I don’t think you…”
“I’m. Going. To work,” I repeated, much slower this time.
He sighed. “Fine.”
My lips pursed.
“Why’d you give in so easily?” I demanded.
“Because I knew you were going to go in. I got yesterday out of you, but that was just by the skin of my teeth,” he answered instantly. “Now, I need to tell you about the cameras and the security system. Give you emergency numbers, and a code to use if you feel you’re in trouble and can’t speak.”
I bit my lip to keep from denying him, knowing he needed this to know I was safe.
That didn’t make me feel better about being treated like a prisoner by my own husband, though.
Even if I had brought it upon myself.
I listened as he droned on and on, even taking my phone at one point to program in not just every member’s number in the Dixie Wardens Alabama Chapter, but also the Benton, Louisiana chapter. A man named Silas, his son named Sebastian. A man named Kettle. Trance. Loki. Cleo. Torren and Sterling.
There were also a few men from some place in Texas, but he told me not to use them unless I’d exhausted all of the Dixie Warden resources.
“Okay,” he said, handing me back my phone. “I’ll go get a shower. Is there anything else you need?”
I bit my lip to keep from calling him crazy, and instead settled on shaking my head.
I even managed to keep my temper under control…all the way up until he insulted one of my favorite songs by Macklemore.
“This is the stupidest song I’ve ever heard,” he grumbled.
“Then close your ears,” I snapped.
He sighed, long and loud.
“I’m only doing this for your own good,” he said to me.
“Why are we in my car, anyway?” I snapped, glaring out the window.
I knew why.
If I was insistent on going to work, he was going to be sure that I was virtually stuck there unless I called someone to come get me. And he knew I wouldn’t bother him while I was at work, and he also knew that I wouldn’t be leaving because I’d already been out the week prior.
So, by taking my car, he would then take it to work after dropping me off at the pub.
Effectively stranding me there until he was ready to come back and get me.
“Remember what I said about the cameras. There is one in every room, even the bathroom,” he started to repeat for the fourth time that morning. “If you go in there, make sure you text me or the number I gave you so they can switch it off.”
“I’m not texting you,” I started to say, but he interrupted me before I could finish. “And I’ll be sure to tell the prospects to pay attention. If they see you go in there, they’ll know to turn it off before they see anything I don’t want them to see.”
I harrumphed.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.
And it was.
But the kiss he gave me as he dropped me off in the dining room of the pub was enough to leave me weak and breathless. At least until he called halfway through the day and told me he wouldn’t be back until well after closing time because something ‘had come up.’
Which left me there for six hours longer than I wanted to be.
By the time he arrived an hour after closing, a long thirteen hours later, I was tired, hungry, and not in the mood to go to a club party.
Did he ask me what I wanted, though?
Hell no. He just took me straight to the clubhouse, which was so far off any main roads that I knew I would never find my way out if I happened to wrangle the keys from my man, and pulled into the longest fucking driveway in the history of mankind.
Then he wedged my car into a parking spot so small that I knew I’d have to exit out his side of the vehicle or I might hit the bike he’d parked next to, and he knew it.
Chicken shit.
I stayed there, waiting for him to get out, and finally sighed and gave him my attention.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” I snarled.
“For finally looking at me.”
I rolled my eyes. “What did you want, your highness?”
His mouth twitched, and then his arm was around my waist and he hauled me roughly across the console before slamming his mouth down onto mine.
I gasped, unable to help the reaction my body had to his, and threaded my fingers around his neck.
He pulled back, and then opened his stupid mouth.
“Should’ve kissed you half an hour ago, and might’ve gotten you into a better mood.”
I smacked him on the forehead, causing him to laugh.
He got out, and pulled me with him, and waved at another bike that pulled up behind my car.
“What’s wrong with her?”
Aaron.
I turned to him and wrinkled my nose.
“I’m hungry, and tired, and my husband is an asshole,” I turned back to my man. “You could’ve at least warned me that this was what we were doing.”
“I would’ve, but you refused to answer my calls.”
“I refused to answer your calls,” I poked him in the chest. “Because you wouldn’t stop calling to check on me in between every single break you took, which, might I add, was a whole lot more than normal.”
He shrugged.
“I don’t like you being there by yourself…especially not after…my grandfather.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t try to play the pity card with me,” I poked him again. “Shithead.”
He laughed then, making me want to smack him.
“Your hair is sticking up,” he continued to dig his grave deeper.
I gave up and turned on my heel, walking straight to the back porch where I could see the now retreating back of Aaron.
I could hear Truth’s footsteps behind me, and I hurried faster, but he easily kept pace with my shorter stride.
I could feel him at my back as we climbed the steps to the porch, which was suspended about twenty feet or so off the ground and were attached to the back of the large house.
I waved at those that I knew, and came to a halt at the table of food that was laid out before me.
I went for a cup of ice and the tea, resigning myself to disappointment.
“Grab yourself a plate,” Truth ordered from my side.
He was already filling up his own plate, piling it so high with crab, shrimp, and corn that I worried for the integrity of the plate.
“It’s seafood. It’s good. I promise.”
I knew it was seafood. I also knew that if I ate it, I’d be in the toilet having the fires of holy hell leaking out of my ass because it gave me diarrhea almost the moment the food hit my mouth.
So no, despite knowing they were good, I wouldn’t be eating them.