Page 9 of Gideon
Maybe it was the way she differed from every other woman I had met in Zion. She had a sassy, sarcastic wit that had floored me yesterday. That sharp tongue and rising temper made me want to just… well, it made me want to tame her. To poke at that temper until it burst and then put her in her place, preferably with some hot, kinky sex and delightful rope work. It had been all I could do yesterday morning to walk away when she goaded me about the house.
Sure, I wasn’t exactly the cleanest guy out there when it came to my house. But it wasn’t dirty, just cluttered. It was my bachelor pad, and this was not where I spent most of my time. My boat was my home, not this place. I would rather shoot myself than let my boat look like this.This was a place to sleep when I couldn’t sleep on my boat. This was a place to cook when I wasn’t on my boat. Nothing more. Nothing less.
The plan was in place. I would go through with the wedding and all its atrocities, then bring my new wife home, sit her down, and tell her the truth about everything. Simple. To the point. It should have been easy. But it wasn’t. She was like a damn light switch. One minute, the picture of a radiant bride, and the next, she was locking me out of my own damned bedroom. The next morning had been just as strange. One minute she was calm, collected, and sweet. Then she was spitting her sarcastic retorts right back at me in a beautiful blaze of fiery sass that had me frustrated and harder than a rock.
She was a red-headed siren when she was angry. Those sea foam green eyes narrowed at me and her hands gripped her hips as she fought back with all the fire of a pissed off man in a bar fight. It was hot as fuck and made me want to push her up against a wall and show her who was boss. But that was the exact opposite of the plan. Itshouldhave been easy. But something told me that life with Naomi would be anything but.
But I wouldn’t let that get me down. I would sit her down and talk this out, even if it killed me. Pacing around the room, I decided that the best time to do just that was right this very minute. I had left her downstairs, food half eaten. It was that or kiss her senseless. That was not the way to handle the moment.
“Naomi?” I called, opening the bedroom door and bolting back down the stairs with fervid determination.
“Yes?” she called back. I could hear the frustration in her voice. I couldn’t blame her. She stood there at the sink, cleaning our dishes from dinner all alone. What a fucking asshole I was. Leaving her to clean the house, clean the dishes, treating her exactly as my father treated my mother. All because I had let my hot-headed nature get the better of me. I needed to have better control. I knew how to have better control.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” I answered as I stepped off the stairs and joined her in the kitchen. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I shouldn’t have just stormed off like that.”
“It’s fine. I should not have pushed,” she answered, but still she kept her back turned to me, not looking at me.
“Please take a break from cleaning. Look at me,” I requested gently.
“I’m just going to finish up. It’s fine,” she attempted to reassure me, but I wouldn’t hear of it.
“No, please stop. I want to talk,” I pushed her. I saw her take a deep breath before she dried her hands off and turned to look at me, that same fake smile on her face. She was trying to play the part, but I didn’t buy it. “I know I frustrated you. I don’t want that. Can we sit and talk?” I kept my tone light and easy, hoping to keep from bickering with one another as we had done with every interaction of our marriage so far. All twenty-four hours of it.
“Alright,” she sighed.
“Let’s sit on the couch. Okay?” I asked, gesturing her over to the sofa. She followed, though she sat on the opposite end, as far away from me as she could.
“I didn’t mean to be so obstinate earlier,” I began. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. There was that sass again. My hand itched to take her over my knee and spank that sass right out of her. I may be a rigger and rope might be the true love of my life, but I was also a brat tamer by nature. Being a full on bratty Dom myself, it just drew me in. And she had that bratty attitude in spades.
“Really?” I scolded, shooting her a look. It was almost impossible to rein in my dominant side when she was like this, but I did my best.
“Sorry,” she apologized, though it felt half-hearted at best.
“Anyway, can we start over?” I tried again, throwing her a genuine smile. It was the smile I used with women at the club. Almost always, I got back batted eyelashes and coquettish flirting. Naomi, however, simply looked at me like a deer in headlights.
So no smolder then. Noted.
“How are we supposed to start over?” she half scoffed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how do we start over when we never really began?” she reiterated. She had a point.
“Okay, well, how about this? Hi, I’m Gideon and sometimes I can be snarky,” I offered her my outstretched hand. She eyed it with a sassy, challenging smirk. That sass, and the fact that she seemed almost incapable of reining it in, was something that amused me to no end. Where was the prim and proper girl from our wedding day? On second thought, I didn’t want that woman anywhere in my home. I wanted Naomi to be herself. Even if it got on my very last nerve.
“Seriously?” she tossed my words back at me.
“What?” I shrugged, turning on the boyish charm.
“I know who you are, Gideon,” she retorted derisively, rolling her eyes. That itchy palm was back, wanting to spank her into submission. But she wasn’t a submissive, and while she was my wife, she sure as shit did not belong to me. Not in that way.
“I don’t think you do,” I tossed back just as derisively, throwing in a chuckle for good measure.
“Oh no? I’m pretty sure everyone in Zion knows exactly who the Temple brothers are,” she pushed back. There was that fire again, that spark that had me wanting her in a way that took me completely by surprise.
“You really don’t,” I pushed, unable to keep the dominance out of my tone.
Control yourself, Gideon.I took a deep, calming breath. Losing my temper would do us absolutely no good. I needed my head to prevail here, and not the one in my pants.
