“Whatever you have available is fine, thank you,” I quickly add, afraid my husband is going to make her cry with all that snapping and snarling.
The second she puts a room key on the counter, Ouray snatches it up and stalks to the elevator. The poor girl is still trying to explain the room comes with complimentary Wi-Fi and breakfast when the elevator doors close.
“Rude,”
I point out, but I can’t quite hide my smile.
4
Ouray
“Get naked.”
I don’t give her time to think when we enter the room.
From the way her eyes flash, I can tell the thought is not unappealing. Good. I’ll fuck her after.
“Thought you wanted to talk?” she challenges, her balled fists on her hips, her spunk showing.
Thank fuck for that. My wife’s fire is what drew me in the first place—that small package comes with a fuckload of punch—but then I discovered the warm, beautiful heart under her ‘tough-guy’ exterior and I was lost.
Seeing the car shot up, her curled in a ball with glass covering her, and blood coming from her head just about stopped my fucking heart. The thought of losing her terrifies me, and if I can’t make things right, I’ll be lost in an entirely different way.
“We talk best in the buff. Nothing to hide behind.”
I put my words into action, and in no time, my boots are off and my clothes are in a pile on the floor. When I look at her, she’s still fully dressed, her eyes tracing a leisurely path down my body. It’s not like she hasn’t seen the goods before, but her slow perusal reminds me my body is fifty-fucking-years old. Not that I’m in bad shape, but age shows.
Still, I let her look her fill before I remind her. “Naked, Sprite.” I whip back the covers, pile the pillows against the headboard, and sit down on the bed. Luna strips, putting each item of clothing carefully over the chair, before she climbs in beside me.
“You didn’t leave me any pillows.”
“You don’t need any.”
I reach an arm around her and pull her to my side. Her head falls naturally on my chest, and I wait until her hand comes to rest on my stomach.
“I love you.” I figure that’s a good place to start.
“That was never in question,” she answers, throwing me for a loop.
“I don’t think you get it…” I look down into her beautiful eyes staring up at me. “…I love you in a way I’m not gonna survive if you check out on me.” Her fingers curl on my skin. “You scared me.”
She casts her eyes down. “You tapped out. I couldn’t get through. You wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t listen.”
“I know, the edges were fraying and I was trying to keep everything together. I’m sorry. Believe me, enough people told me these past days to get my head outta my ass. Including our son.” At that, she lifts her eyes.
“Ahiga?”
“Fuck yeah. Gave it to me both barrels.” I chuckle at the visual of our otherwise easygoing son facing off with me. “Wouldn’t back down either,” I add with a hint of pride, stroking my fingers over the enticing curve of her hip. “I could make excuses why I’ve been absent, but fuck, that’s all they’d be: excuses.”
“I could see the pressure weighing on you, but that almost made it worse when you wouldn’t share. We’re supposed to share it all, the bad along with the good. It felt like you didn’t trust me enough.”
“You’re the strongest person I know, it wasn’t you I didn’t trust; it was me. I was failing the club, failing my family. I was trying to make it right.”
She curves a hand around my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. “It was never wrong until you pulled away,” she mumbles against my lips.
My body starts to burn with need for her, and I close my eyes to visualize something other than those lush, pink lips and love-filled eyes. This is not the time to ravage my Sprite. Not yet, anyway.
“Trust goes both ways, though. Ahiga mentioned something else; you saw a doctor?”