“And you thought it would be a good idea to get out of bed and what? Get between us? Just no. And that’s one.”
“One what?” she asked.
He leaned in to whisper. “One punishment. We’ll discuss what sort of punishment later. In private.”
She squirmed in his arms. Was she turned on? He probably should have put her back to bed, but he was enjoying having her in his arms too much. After making sure that her oxygen line didn’t tangle, he settled in the arm chair with her on his lap.
Sampson didn’t seem to like that. But he could fuck the hell off.
Maeve was his. And if he wanted her on his lap, that’s where she was going to be.
Damn. He quite liked having someone that belonged to him.
“The two of you were being stupid, and for no reason,” Maeve said. “Sampson, what kind of a hypocrite are you? I know what kind of clubs you go to. How many subs have you spanked?”
Sampson gaped at her. “What? How do you know that? Wait, are you saying that you . . . that you and him . . .”
“I’m not saying anything other than you completely overreacted. And you . . . you need to stop antagonizing him.” She glared up at Gray.
“How did I do anything? I wasn’t the one talking about being spanked.” He smirked down at her as she rolled her eyes.
“I think the two of you should kiss and make-up. You both got off on the wrong foot and I don’t want one of my best friends arguing with my. . . with my . . .”
“Boyfriend,” Gray supplied.
“Boyfriend,” she repeated, with color filling her cheeks. “You don’t much seem like the boyfriend type.”
“I’m not. Never been one. Will have to figure out what I’m meant to do. But I don’t intend to be your boyfriend for long.”
“Oh.” Sadness filled her eyes.
“Wow. I thought your possessive gruffness was kind of sexy and romantic,” Immy said, dropping a duffel bag on the bed. “But that wasn’t sexy or romantic.”
“I don’t intend to be your boyfriend for long. But that’s because I’m going to be your husband.”
Maeve gaped at Gray.
He didn’t just say that, right? She didn’t hear that . . . because if he did say that then he had to be insane.
I’m going to be your husband.
Whoa.
Just whoa.
“Okay . . . I take it back,” Immy squeaked.
Maeve wasn’t sure that it was romantic or terrifying.
“Does he not seem like a classic stalker?” Sampson demanded, pacing back and forth. “You can’t just declare that you’re going to marry her!”
“Why not?”
“Sampson is right,” she said hoarsely. She was settled in his lap, held securely in his arms. And it was heaven.
“What?” Gray asked with a scowl.
“I am?” Sampson said. “Yes, I mean, of course I am. I’m always right.”