Page 12 of His Queen

“Nicoli!” Mirabella barrels into me, but I barely move, my rage keeping my feet cemented to the floor.

“Don’t you ever touch my wife again,” I snarl as I grit my teeth and finally let go of the sweaty instructor, stepping back.

The son of a bitch doubles over, gasping for breath.

“Oh, my God, Jean-Luc.” Mirabella rushes to his side. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, he’s okay,” I say. “I was barely squeezing.”

“Nicoli!” Her sharp green eyes practically cut through my skull as she glares at me. “You’re insane. You know that?”

“I’m insane about you, baby.” I wink, taunting her, knowing full well she’s about to detonate.

“Ugh,” she grunts, placing her arm around Jean-Luc’s shoulder while he’s still heaving, trying to catch his breath. Overdramatic motherfucker.

Without thinking, I grab her arm and yank her away from him, pulling her hard against my side. “Your friend needs to leave.”

“You’re the one who needs to leave,” she bites back. “Besides, my class isn’t over.”

“Oh, yes, it is.”

“Nicoli.”

“Jean-Luc,” I snap. “Unless you want to watch me fuck my wife, I suggest you leave.”

Mira’s eyes widen. “If you think I’m going to let you touch me after you just assaulted my Pilates instructor, you are so wrong.”

I grip her chin between my fingers and force her to look up at me, practically engraving my stare into her green irises. “Within the next sixty seconds, I’m going to have your feet in the cradles of those TRX bands, after which I’ll proceed to fuck you out of your mind to the brink of insanity until you beg me to stop, and when I do, you’re going to cry for me to fuck you again because you can’t decide whether you want to die without my cock, or with it.”

Her lips part, and I drag a thumb across them. “Am I still wrong, Hummingbird?”

There’s a flicker of desire in her eyes, her cheeks burning with a beautiful blush. “You know what, Nicoli,” she starts, but she has that tone in her voice that’s become the world’s best cockblocker. “I’m going to show Jean-Luc out, and then I’m going to take my ball—” she picks up the oversized, extremely pink stability ball, “—go to our room, lock the door, and finish my workout.” She steps up close, with a slight sheen of perspiration on her forehead. “Then, tomorrow morning, I’ll let you know if I’ve forgiven you or whether I think you should spend another night in the guest bedroom thinking about what you’ve done.”

“God, you’re hot when you’re angry, sweaty, and turned the fuck on.”

“Ugh!” she grunts and grabs her pink ball before ushering Jean-Luc out of the gym.

I’m grinding my teeth as I watch them walk out. “Next time you’re near my wife, you better wear a decent pair of pants!” I call after him. “And if you want to keep that tiny nutsack of yours, better make sure there won’t be a next time.”

Mira slides the barn door shut, leaving me with the echo of a wife I just pissed off and a hard-on that doesn’t seem to catch the hint.

If she thinks she’s going to lock me out of my own damn bedroom, she’s sorely mistaken.

I yank open the door only to collide with Caelian, who, judging by the bewildered look in his eyes, just passed Mira in the hall. “Is there a reason your wife just rode past me on a hellhound?”

I pull a hand through my hair. “I seem to have pissed her off.”

“Ah. One of your few talents you can pull off without even trying.”

“Keep on digging, Caelian. I’d love to shove a dumbbell up your ass.”

“Promises, promises.”

“So, this is what you two assholes do when I’m not around. Bickering and making promises of bodily harm.” Alexius strolls toward us, the light scattering off his blue irises like he has a unicorn trapped in his eyes and a breeze rustling through his ink-black hair.

I glare at him. “Why do you always look like you just tore off a cover of a Vogue magazine when you’re entering a room? And where the fuck is that breeze coming from?” I’m glancing up and down the hall. “There is no goddamn window anywhere.”

Caelian shrugs. “It’s his superpower.”

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