“What are you talking about? She’s your wife.”
“She doesn’t want to sleep with me.” I stared ahead and surveyed the people in the bar. It was my birthday, and I wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening by drinking with the guys. I wanted to pretend I didn’t care that my father forgot it was my birthday…and my sister didn’t remember either. Birthdays were just countdowns until death, but I thought it would mean something to my own family. My mother wouldn’t have forgotten.
“Are you sure about that?”
I nodded.
“Is she sleeping with other people?”
“We have an open relationship.” I didn’t care who she slept with, and she didn’t care who I slept with. I just hoped she would open her legs to a man who actually deserved her, not more boys trying to be men. As I got to know her, I realized she deserved more than most people. She had a good heart and a beautifully proud spirit.
“Does that bother you?”
“No.” My answer came out instantly.
“I don’t know…if I had a wife who looked like that, I would be the only one allowed to fuck her.”
I could control her if I wanted to. I could lock her up in the house and make her mine. I could strip away all her rights and turn her into a prisoner. I could threaten to kill any man she talked to, and when she got so horny she lost her mind, she would finally give in and fuck me. But I didn’t want to be that guy. “I don’t see her that way…as my wife. She’s just a means to an end.”
“And when are you finally going to cash in your reward?”
“Next week.”
“Need any help?”
I shook my head. “No. This is personal—and we want to get our hands dirty.” There would be torture followed by a gruesome death. I’d watch the entire thing, leaving my father to do the dirty work because it meant more to him. It would be grisly, but when it was over, we could wash our hands and move on.
The blonde I was talking to was an easy mark. Her hand kept grabbing my thigh under the table, moving up until her fingers brushed the hard outline of my dick in my jeans. She made it clear she had no issues with getting right to the point.
Kent was beside me, talking to a brunette about the scars on his hand. He traced them with his forefinger like he was mapping out the stars with all the cuts he’d received from his underground knife fights.
It was obvious when a pretty girl walked inside because all heads turned to the entryway. This one caught my attention in particular because every single person in the bar looked—the women included.
When she made her way past the congestion at the bar, she stepped farther inside, wearing a tight little black dress, black heels, and her hair was its own special production. With a small gift box tucked under her arm, she scanned the area like she was searching for someone.
I almost didn’t recognize her. I’d seen her dress up before, but this dress had a dramatic slit up her thigh and a tightness around her chest that made her tits looked like fresh eggs on a platter. Her ass must have looked like a nectarine because all the men behind her craned their necks to get a look at it.
The blonde kept talking and squeezing my thigh, oblivious to my otherwise-directed attention.
Arwen finally spotted me, and there was a slight joy that entered her gaze when she saw me—like I was exactly who she was looking for. She headed to the table, her perfect figure moving flawlessly. Her hips shook from side to side, so womanly that they made me a bigger man on the spot.
Even Kent forgot about his girl when he noticed Arwen.
Arwen reached the table, unaffected by the woman who was sinking her claws into me. “Happy Birthday, Maverick.”
The blonde moved closer to me, clearly not wanting to share.
I didn’t understand so many things. How did she know it was my birthday? How did she know I was here? Why did she get me a present? I was speechless for a moment, my dick so hard it started to hurt inside my jeans—and it had nothing to do with the blonde.
Kent kicked me under the table, snapping me back to reality.
I dropped my arm from around the blonde. “Give us a couple minutes.”
The blonde was clearly pissed. She looked at me like I’d just slapped her. “Someone else will snatch me up in a couple minutes.” She slid out of the booth and marched off, angry she didn’t get what she wanted.
Arwen immediately looked apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Sit down.” I didn’t want all the men in the bar to keep staring at her ass as she stood in front of my table.