Page 119 of Bride By Initiation

"Jesus! What's the emergency!" She sits up in bed and glances over at the clock. "Sean, it's seven o'clock on a Sunday morning."

I step in front of her and cross my arms, looking down. "Yep. And shit's hitting the fan."

Her eyes widen and her face pales. "Did we do something to upset the Omni?"

"No. It's worse."

"Worse?" she frets.

"Yep. Our secret nuptials aren't a secret anymore. Our parents are still in town and will probably be here soon."

"Oh shit!"

"Yeah, oh shit is right. So get up, my pulse."

"When are they coming?" she asks.

I shrug. "My guess is the next fifteen to twenty minutes."

She groans.

I add, "Oh, and my uncles saw my brand."

She glances at my hand and then grabs it, horrified. "Sean, this looks disgusting. You're going to get an infection."

"It's fine," I say.

"No, it's not." She jumps out of bed and pulls me into the bathroom.

I stare at her backside.

My wife is hot as fuck.

She bends over and rifles through my cabinet.

I step up to her, put my hand on her hip, and suggest, "You can stay in this position if you want."

She giggles, rising with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, then reprimands, "We don't have time for that right now."

"Says who?"

"Me. Now, give me your hand."

"That's going to hurt," I admit.

She arches her eyebrows, stating, "I didn't think the big, bad Sean was going to be such a baby."

I scoff. "Let's see how you react if I pour this on your brand."

She doesn't say anything, but her lips twitch. She grabs my hand, holds it over the sink, and pours the liquid over it.

I wince.

She stifles her laugh.

My wound bubbles with foam.

Zara grabs a wad of toilet paper, pats it dry, then gently coats it with salve. She wraps it tight with fresh plastic. Then she grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. "There you go. Much better."

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