“Before I tie myself to your organization, Mr. Calo, I want more of it.”
“What are you asking for?” I said hoarsely.
His eyes glittered in the firelight. “Give me your Rosalia for one night. Let me have a taste of what your outfit has to offer. She’s got a beautiful body, just my type.”
My vision flashed red and my fist tightened on the back of the chair. Into my mind flooded an image of Rosalia on her back, her thighs spread, with this man between them. Taking her body the way I had last night. Jealousy rose like a snake ready to strike and it took everything for me not to swing at him.
He was antagonizing me, that much was clear. But what his motive was, I couldn’t guess.
“Now, don’t say yes or no,” Merrick said. “Think about it.”
He inclined his head, turning, and walking out of the living room. I stood there, my heart pounding, staring into the fire with spots dancing before my eyes. How dare this man come into my house and ask for my wife. Hands trembling with quiet rage, I poured another glass of bourbon and bolted it.
I ascended the stairs to the bedroom where Rosalia lay. She was motionless beneath the silk sheets, her dark hair splayed out over the pillow. I should have left her alone, but I had to mark her, I needed her to feel me in the deepest parts of her body.
I slid over her and kissed up the side of her neck.
“Open your legs, kitten,” I breathed.
She blinked, confusion in her eyes, but she complied, parting her thighs for me. She was bare, I felt the soft skin of her pussy on my palm as I spread my saliva over her entrance. The little groan she released as I pushed into her had me throbbing. Her pussy pulsed, hot and painfully tight around my cock.
I woke the next morning with a dull ache in my head. Rolling over, my eyes locked on my wife curled up in the window seat by the stone angel. She had a mug in her hand and a book nestled in her lap. For a second, I just watched her bathed in the pale light from the window. Outside, the brilliant yellow leaves swayed, wet and barely clinging to gray branches.
“What time is it?” I asked.
She lifted her head, her dark eyes fixing on me. Her expression was unreadable.
“Just past six.”
“It’s Sunday,” I said, falling back into the pillows.
Then the memory of everything that had happened last night came flooding back. Why had I reacted like that to what Merrick had said? Clearly he liked sharing the wives of his political adversaries and it wasn’t an issue for him to walk into my world and demand Rosalia. That bothered me because it felt like he was trying to assert dominance over me. If he had just wanted to swing, I wouldn’t have found it insulting. But this was different.
“Do you want breakfast?”
“Yes, breakfast sounds good,” I said, walking fully naked to where she sat.
Her eyes flicked down and back up again.
“Do I need to get you a morning after pill?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I shouldn’t need one this time of the month.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I can take one if you want me to.”
I shook my head. “I trust your knowledge about your body. Would you like to eat downstairs with me?”
She nodded and I felt her eyes as I disappeared into the bathroom. When I returned, she was fully dressed in leggings and a soft purple sweater. She’d pulled her hair up in a high ponytail and the dark, silky strands fell down her upper back in a cascade. I lingered in the door, rolling my shirt up to my elbows, and studied her. She was beautiful and that was something to be jealous over. Perhaps that was part of the reason why I’d had such a visceral reaction to Merrick’s request.
“Are we going to talk about last night?” she asked.
I sighed and pulled the bedroom door ajar. “No, this morning we are not going to talk about last night. I want to have a nice breakfast with my wife before I run out to the office.”
“It’s Sunday,” she pouted, following me out into the hall.
“I don’t want to work,” I said. “But it’s necessary.”