Page 5 of Bang

My cock jerks up immediately when her small hands curl around my shoulders, massaging the tight muscles. Her slender fingers are surprisingly strong despite their size, and the last bit of tension releases from my body with her spoiling me. I’m a damn lucky asshole that she cares for me so lovingly when it should be the other way around.

I keep reading so Louis doesn’t notice the shift in my attention from his favorite story to her comforting touch. Although I doubt he’s awake enough to realize I’m distracted with his eyes already slipped shut despite his struggle to keep them open. His soft, even breaths prove he’s asleep, but I finish the story anyway, having memorized the tale of a watermelon learning friends on a vine are just as special as the fireflies fluttering magically above them in the darkening sky.

Not a word or movement from him as I lay the book on his nightstand and rise from the rocker losing her grip on my back. Until I twist and grasp her tiny waist, tucking her next to me as we leave his room in silence and head downstairs to finish our drinks. The tradition started long ago of us always ending the evening with a cocktail before I fuck her into her own deep sleep, and I’m sure as hell not unhappy with the ritual we’ve developed.

Of course, she leads us to the kitchen, with unnecessary guilt that she should at least clear the table. I don’t allow any staff except security in the evening so no one intrudes on my time with my family. Once Mrs. Bryant puts dinner in the oven she departs, only to return in the morning to clean up our mess. I refuse to have my wife work inside or outside the home despite how much she argues with me that she’s fully capable of loading the dishwasher. When I promised I would spend my life pampering her, I fucking meant what I said. Besides, the housekeeper is paid extremely well and enjoys taking care of us. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here.

Eden stacks Louis’s dinosaur bowl on top of his train plate, but doesn’t lift up the stack. Her gaze remains on the thick red plastic, and I know she’s pondering something. She better speak up quick before I freak the fuck out. Both of us well aware she’s not allowed to hide anything from me—good or bad.

“Michelle called. Some of the girls are throwing a bridal shower for Lexie. I’d like to go.”

A party. My body softens, and I blow out my breath, pleased I can make her happy. “You can host one here for her, for all of them. Anyone and anything you want. Have Marcella cater it.”

Except she isn’t happy at all. Despite my suggestion, her grip on the dishes doesn’t loosen. Her gaze doesn’t meet mine. Her head doesn’t nod up and down.

“I want to go, Beck. I need to get out of this house.”

The emotion in her pleading tone is one I’ve never heard before. Regardless of my inability to identify the sentiment, I’m damn well aware I don’t like her feeling trapped yet can do nothing to appease her. She needs to accept the boundaries I’m forced to set. “It’s too risky. I can’t take the chance of losing you.”

“You’ve already taken care of that.”

Her elegant hand brushes over her hipbone where I had her tracker implanted the day after I met her. She didn’t speak to me for three days once she woke up from her spiked chardonnay and learned what I did. Now she’s used to me. Kind of. These fights for her freedom always seem to pop up, and for some reason she just can’t seem to comprehend why I refuse to consider endangering her.

“You can find me anywhere. That’s not the reason.”

The sleeping beast inside me stirs to life from her accusation. She knows better. She should stop. But she doesn’t. Wrenching her around to face me, I ignore the clatter of dishes tumbling to the floor. Eden does too, focusing all of her attention on my face already blazing with the fury exploding across my skin. “It’s what could happen before I found you that scares the fuck out of me.”

“Do you really think I’d take chances and risk leaving Louis without a mother?”

I don’t know why she’s pushing me. After she almost died giving me my son, I had a vasectomy and didn’t fuck her again until the doctor guaranteed I couldn’t get her pregnant. Crushing me because I fucking love her round with my baby inside her. I can’t form an answer to her impertinence because losing her would devastate both of us.

“Do you think I’d ever cheat on you? That I’d be unfaithful?”

The monster is now absolutely and fully awake and furious. Genuine pain draws down her face as she seeks to understand my reasoning while the need to break everyone and everything keeping her from me rages in my muscles. My fingers ball into fists around her biceps, and I growl at her. Feral with insanity from the mere thought.

“Who is he?”

She shakes her head. Frustration and confusion meld with each twist of her willowy neck. “What’re you talking about? Who’s who?”

“The man who makes you think about fucking someone other than me?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

She shoves off my chest in her rage that I deserve but can’t stop. Fuck that. I grab the nape of her neck and yank her back to me. “My wife does not walk away from me.”

I clutch her shining face and slam my mouth to hers, forcing her lips to part. Only because she loves me despite how much she hates me in this moment, she lets me invade her mouth. Owning her teeth and her tongue and her throat as I ravish her.

Despite knowing how brutal I’m being to her, I’m just as livid at myself for being a possessive asshole. I back her into the edge of the table and force her down onto the granite, pinning her to the surface with my body hovering over hers. Our glasses tip from the ruckus and red wine sloshes around her torso. Infuriating me all over again from the image of blood the liquid invokes seeping into the yellow fabric. I shove up her dress and rip off her panties, not even checking to see if she’s wet for me before I yank open my pants and thrust into her with one long drive. Needing to feel her alive and breathing and safe underneath me. Rutting into my wife calms me like nothing else, and I only slow my savagery when she softens, wrapping her legs around my waist and curling her arms around my neck. Holding on for dear life so she doesn’t fly off the other end of the slick gray quartz from my force.

Soft lips glide over my ear. “You’re a good husband.”

I’m a fucker.

“You’re a good father.”

I’m an asshole.

“You keep us safe and I love you for it.”

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