I wasn’t doing a damn thing. All I wanted was to find something big and heavy and bash his ass over the head for getting me so upset, and to think that I had come home looking forward to seeing him.
My mind was not only enraged, it was in an upheaval, attempting to figure out why I even cared about who he had flings with. I didn’t need an old wise woman or man to tell me that you didn’t get this upset over someone you didn’t care about. What I didn’t understand was where it had come from.
“I can stand here all night, Mecca. The view is magnificent,” he said, his tone sounding laced with lust.
“Okay,” I relented. “I’m calm. Now put me down.” You fucking gargantuan asshole.
“I heard that,” he said. “You’re cursing me out in your head.”
“Let me the fuck down. Right fucking now,” I seethed, my words sliding out as a harsh whisper. “How was that, you jackass?”
The motherfucker started whistling, perfectly fine, standing there with me across his shoulder. The idea that my weight wasn’t of any consequence to his strength lingered in my head and had me thinking about his muscles and his strong body.
Priorities, I reminded myself.I was supposed to be searching the room for something to bash his damn head in with.
“I’m letting you down, Mecca. Don’t fight me because you won’t win.”
His warning had gone in one ear, and died, attempting to penetrate my brain. I had blown that shit out like a cloud of weed smoke. I didn’t care about him being part-giant, I wanted to expel my rage on him anyway.
He eased me down, turning me off his shoulder so that his big hand was at the center of my back, and his other arm was slung under the backs of my thighs. My butt brushed the mattress before my feet touched the floor.
He placed his hands to the outside of my thighs, caging me with his arms, and remained leaning over me while I sat, glaring up at him. I had every intention of following the direction of my rage, except his fucking eyes held me prisoner. Were his eyes blue or gray? It was hard to tell with the canvas of lies he had painted over them and was preparing to feed me.
“Please accept my apology, Mecca. I didn’t mean to upset you like that. It was wrong of me to assume you would be accepting of me with another woman.”
He shrugged and a hint of pity flashed in his eyes.
“If it’s of any consequence, you don’t seem to want me.”
All my fucking rage evaporated at those words and was replaced by the deep frown of confusion that marred my forehead. I didn’t want him, did I? I continued to frown up at him while silently attempting to figure out my intentions with him.
He appeared genuinely hurt by the lack of interest I had shown him since our wedding day. The silence stretched on for a few agonizingly long seconds. This shit was as stressful as dealing with the street drama. I shoved his bulky arm to move him back and away from me.
“You were wrong to assume. The day I met you, I told you that I wasn’t going to be second in your life again. You remember that?”
He nodded, his face strained, his eyes searching mine. He appeared as confused about us as I was. He reached out, and I flinched away from his hand.
“You don’t even want me touching you. You hardly come home, and when you do, the bed is cold because you turn your back and slide as far away from me as you can.”
He was right, but I needed time to adjust. I wasn’t like the sluts he was used to dealing with.
“I’m a man, Mecca. I have needs. You’re my wife, my beautiful, lovely wife who I happen to be very attracted to. What else am I supposed to do if you don’t want me?”
His words were fucking with me. He was telling me that I was beautiful, and that he was attracted to me. I knew as much, but hearing him speak it out loud set a dynamic that I wasn’t sure I was prepared for.
“You’re supposed to wait,” I replied before lifting my gaze to meet his.
“You’re supposed to give me time to process this situation,” I added, realizing that I was telling him that we would be more than a business arrangement.
A smile crept onto his lips before it filled his handsome face. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
Wait, that was it? He wasn’t going to argue, turn things around, and make the situation my fault? Instead, he took my hand.
“In the meantime, wife, what am I supposed to do about this?”
He had distracted me with his gaze before placing my hand on his hard dick. Jesus. Was that all him in those pants?
Now that I was paying attention, I could clearly see his dick print. I took my time, getting me a good feel, before I acted offended and snatched my hand back.