Kate
TWO WEEKS LATER
Macy and Hansenwere having a pool party.
Or a ‘pool warming’ as Macy had tried to call it. Hansen had argued that there was no way they were calling it that because it sounded like a bunch of people were “pissing in my fucking pool.”
They argued about it.
A lot.
So it was being called a pool warming.
It was still somewhat unnerving to me, to see these women openly challenge their husbands. To throw sass. Unafraid of men society deemed to be dangerous. Deadly. These were the kind of men who beat their wives, if the popular narrative was to be believed.
Except they didn’t challenge their wives. They barely raised their voices to them. They conceded. They backed down. They shook their heads, smiling, bringing them in for a kiss. Dragging them off to have wild sex. I’d seen it in person with each of the women and their men.
It was a journey, finding my voice with Swiss. Feeling brave enough to speak up, to disagree with him without fear of reproach. But the way I lived, the way I thought when I was with Preston, was trial by fire. With Swiss, everything was so primal, so reactive, sometimes I said and did things without even thinking. And he proved, consistently and continually, that he might’ve been a dangerous man, but I had nothing to fear from him.
“I’ve put on weight,” I exclaimed, staring at myself in the mirror, wearing the bikini I’d bought for the occasion. My boobs were spilling out of the triangles, my stomach no longer had ribs visible and my hips were much wider.
“Yep,” Swiss agreed.
I gaped at him. “Now I’m not exactly an expert on how to survive in this outlaw world, but I am aware that is not the right response to give a woman if you want to live to ride another day,” I snapped.
“Fuck you’re cute,” he smiled at me hungrily before pulling me in to kiss my head.
I placed my hands on his chest so I could push back and glare at him. “And fat, apparently.”
His expression turned serious. “You’re not fuckin’ fat,” he growled. “You put on weight you needed to gain.” His hands ran down the sides of my body. “And not enough of it, in my opinion. As beautiful as you were when I first saw you, you were much too fuckin’ skinny.”
He toyed with the string that tied the side of my bikini together.
“Not something I ever would’ve said if you’d stayed at that size,” he added as his eyes trailed up to meet mine. “Which, of course, you haven’t because that was not a size you were meant to exist at. My guess is that life you lived before all of this was amongst a bunch of other women who were starving themselves for pieces of shit husbands.”
My fingers curled with unease at the sudden change in subject.
“You were living a life that didn’t fit you, so you had to shrink down in order to make room for yourself. As much as I hate that you ever had to do that, I’m glad you’re finding space now. Here. With me. I happen to love your curves.”
His palms moved to my ass, grabbing the ample handful that was there now.
“And I’ll love it if you grow more of them.”
Then his hand skimmed my hips again, diving into the front of my bathing suit.
“Swiss,” I breathed. “We have to get there early.”
His hand did not stop.
“Seriously,” I protested weakly. “I told Macy I would do the appetizers for her. And as much as I like where this is going, I don’t want to let her down.”
In a few seconds, I was liable to forget all able appetizers, forget who in the heck Macy even was.
Swiss’s hand stopped, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine,” he grunted. “But I’m fuckin’ you in their bathroom the second you’re finished, and they’ve got only themselves to blame.”
I smiled up at him as erotic anticipation flooded my system. “How are they to blame for us having sex in their bathroom?” I asked playfully.
“It was their choice to get a pool,” he returned, shrugging on his cut.