Page 64 of The Bloke

“That you are mine—all mine.” I beamed, reaching up to wrap my hands around the back of his neck, pulling his face down to meet mine. “And no one can have you for as long as I live,” I murmured before capturing his mouth with mine and kissing him deeply.

On second thought, obsession might be an understatement when it comes to my husband.

“Obsessive, possessive, and jealous are a good look on you, love.” Colby chuckled, returning the kiss with just as much fervor before pulling back and standing to his full height.He did not just comment on my red flags, which he so obviously had first.

“But you’re going to make me late—again.” He growled, walking over to grab his jeans and T-shirt. These past two weeks had felt like a honeymoon, the best time of my entire life, and every night, I had made him late for his show—only by fifteen minutes, but apparently, Jaxon had been giving him hell for it.

“I’ll beg.” I breathed, watching him closely, my head tipped over the edge of the mattress. Even upside down, he was gorgeous.

“You’ll beg when I get home, love.” He assured me, picking up his gym bag and pulling the strap over his shoulder, and I moaned in disapproval. “I love you.” He spoke, bending down to press a kiss to my stomach and lips once more before exiting the bedroom.

About an hour aftermy husband left for work, I padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to grab myself a snack.

When I reached the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and played with my heart pendant, pressing it against my lips while searching for something to eat.

I tried going to sleep but couldn’t. Before Colby came into my life, I was almost always home by nine and in bed by ten, but now, with his routine and late work schedule, I don’t go to bed until well past midnight.

It’s not that he wakes me up when he gets home or that I stay up worried that he’s out late with another woman—that fear ended the night of the Gala—I had just become accustomed to the routine of waiting for him to get home so I could wrap myself around his muscular body and have him make love to—or fuck me—until we both passed out.

I was definitely feeling the high effects of the honeymoon phase, and I didn’t want to come down from it, not even for a second.

If you had asked me three weeks ago if this is where I saw our relationship going, I would have told you there was no chance in hell—not a single one. But I don’t feel weak or controlled by him like I had initially thought I would; no, he makes me feel empowered, just as I viewed Bria and Tessa that night at the Gala. I’m sure their husbands made them feel just the same.

I still needed to reach out to Bria and take her up on her offer of friendship. I’ve just been too busy with work and Colby to do so. Knowing how she and Dallas met three years ago, I'm sure she'd understand my lack of contact.

I pulled a lemon meringue yogurt from the fridge, grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer, and climbed onto the kitchen counter facing the windows. I ripped the top of the yogurt off, setting it next to me before diving into my late-night treat.

There wasn’t much on my mind anymore, with our relationship seeming as normal as it could possibly get. That is, not counting the test I had still not heard any update on. It was as if it had been swept under the rug. Colby never brought it up, and I sure as fuck didn’t feel like talking about murdering people while he pounded away between my thighs.

And yet, the question I asked myself weeks ago lingered like a sour taste on my tongue. Could I murder someone in cold blood? My husband had obviously done so himself; I didn’t dare to ask how many times.

I sucked on my spoon as my thoughts continued to descend into a realm of what-ifs.

What if I fail? What if I enjoy it? What if I fuck it all up?

Tessa had mentioned a woman who had failed her test… her husband…No, I won’t follow that train of thought—not tonight.

The elevator doors opened, and my attention snapped to the light that filtered through the entryway.

Colby stepped out of the elevator with an almost grim look on his face, and I swallowed, dropping my spoon to the counter as his blue eyes met mine.

“Something wrong, love?” I asked, using his nickname for me.

I didn’t use it regularly, but I noticed he reacted to it when I did, and this looked like a time when he could use that comforting and warm feeling it gave him.

He huffed sarcastically, running a hand through his dark, mussed hair as he approached me in the kitchen. My eyes tracked his movements like a hawk. He stopped, stepping between my thighs, and pressed his forehead against my shoulder, nuzzling up against me.

“Aside from receiving your test assignment?” He released a strained breath, and I set down my yogurt cup, wrapping my arms tightly around him.

“Tell me,” I murmured into his neck. “I’m ready… just tell me.” I was ready.

No matter how often I questioned the ‘ifs,’ I was ready. I would do anything for him at this point. He was worth everything to me.

With a heavy sigh, Colby leaned back to stare into my eyes, his blues pulling me deep as they always did when he was like this, all soft and sentimental.

“Two days… Your test will be here in two days at Neon Palms. A resort guest who has been on the society’s radar for the past two months is arriving.” He paused, chewing his lip. “It’s a high-profile test; the man is dangerous.”

I didn’t react to his words, not wanting him to see my fear buried beneath my calm and collected facade. I was strong and fierce to him, and that’s all I would allow him to see while, deep down, I was screaming. Of all the times I had been vulnerablewith my husband, this was the one time when I didn’t want to—to be weak.

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