Her Men

She rolled her eyes but made no move to walk away.

His hand ran up and down her back. “I loved every second of last night,” he said.

“I did as well.”

He brushed his lips against hers, and she melted against him. His hand went to her ass, gripping the flesh.

She didn’t want him to stop. Warmth flooded her pussy, and if he pushed her to the bed and took her again, she wouldn’t complain. She wanted him.

“You make me forget myself.” He pulled away and held the shirt open for her.

Putting her arms through, he helped her pull the shirt over her head. It was a lot bigger on her, falling to her knees.

Climbing onto the bed, she crossed her legs and waited.

James put the tray to rest on her lap, and she picked up the knife and fork. She didn’t feel like eating fruit right now. Taking a bite of the bacon, eggs, and toast, she closed her eyes, moaning at the taste.

“Drake is a god in the kitchen,” James said.

“He really is.” She agreed with him. “So good. How did you find him?”

“A long time ago. We’ve been friends for forever. I wouldn’t do without him.”

“You both do seem close.”

“We do?”

“Yes. He’s always around. The first day here I thought he was your butler.”

She saw this made him smile, and it transformed his face. It wasn’t a mocking look or one of disgust. This was a genuine smile.

“You should do that more often.”

“Smile?”

“Yes. You’d get whatever you wanted if you did that.”

“Sweetheart, I get whatever I want regardless.”

A divorce.

After last night’s trip into pleasure she’d given herself a few hours to forget that he didn’t want her. He wished for this marriage to be over.

“Why do you look sad?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t do that, Abby. Don’t shut me out.”

“I was just thinking about last night and about what it means now.”

“What does it mean?”

“Without proof that we’ve never consummated our marriage, we can’t go for an annulment.”

“I don’t want an annulment.”

“You want a divorce?”

“Why don’t we see how this goes? I don’t hate you, Abby. You don’t hate me.”

“That’s true.” She didn’t hate him. “Would you like me to work for you?”

“Why would I want you to work for me?”

“So I can help pay off the debt. I’m a good cleaner. Hard-working. I can help you out around the house.”

“Don’t. No.” He took her hand. “Don’t. You’re my wife.”

“I don’t know what my parents have on you, but if I can help, I will. Please, let me do something. Anything.”

“You don’t need to do anything.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I want to ask you something about last night, and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Of course.”

“You mentioned that your parents had taken something from you. That they threatened you.”

She bit her lip feeling her cheeks heat as embarrassment swept through her. “I talked about that?”

“You did. What did you mean?”

Tell him.

Why? He hasn’t told me anything.

He needs to learn to trust you.

Be the one to start that trust.

Reach out.

Staring down at her breakfast, she made a decision.

Lifting her head, she smiled at him. “Erm, before our marriage or impending marriage, I had moved away from my parents. I was living my own life. I volunteered at a local animal rescue, and I worked as a cleaner and a waitress. I was happy. I was free. My parents told me that if I didn’t do as I was told they’d take my freedom away from me. My life would be turned upside down for the walls of a hospital room.”

“They can’t do that.”

“They have friends, and I’ve seen them do stuff that made sure I wouldn’t doubt them. They want money. They want power. They have friends who would do that for them.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “I know it seems a little far-fetched, but when I was younger I had an episode.”

“You did?”

She took a deep breath. “Something happened in my life, and it hurt me. I did something bad to myself.” She held her wrist out for him to see. There was a cut that she’d made with a knife. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself like everyone suggested or believed. I just, I needed the pain to disappear, and I ended up cutting my wrist with a knife. I liked the pain, and whenever I thought about the bad, I needed to release the pain and so I’d cut myself. One day, I went too deep and I ended up in the hospital and being analyzed. I didn’t want to give my parents ammunition, but they got it from me because I hurt myself.”

“They hold this against you?”

“I don’t know if it will have any hold on me now, but because it was on my medical records, I didn’t want to take that chance. I hate hospitals. I hate people trying to analyze me.”