Honor
Page 49

 Jay Crownover

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“I can’t believe you didn’t stop me from pulling your cock out in front of a bunch of surveillance cameras. You’re such an asshole. That’s a total violation of privacy and consent, Nassir. No one gets to be a part of my sex life if they’re going to play those kinds of games with me.”
I put my hands on her hips and pulled her close so that our pelvises were lined up. I was hard. She was soft and quivering with rage. If I didn’t have shit to do, I would be hiking up her short skirt and giving more cameras an even more graphic show, and I told her as much.
“Cameras aren’t going to stop me from having you, Key. Neither is an audience.” I decided not to mention that Chuck had seen her naked most of her adult life while she was onstage at the old Spanky’s.
She huffed out a heated breath and leaned forward so that our noses were almost touching. I could see not only anger but disappointment and embarrassment in her cloud-colored eyes.
“No, Nassir. You don’t get to have your way and damn the consequences with me. You owe me an apology and you better make me believe that you will never violate me or my trust like that again or that video is the last memory you will have of me being anywhere near your dick. I’m mad at you because I’m mad at you. I know you’re going off to do something that you might not make it back from and I don’t want the last thing I feel toward you to be anger.”
The doors opened and she followed me out into the hallway. I caught her wrist and pulled her to me so that I could give her a proper kiss. I nipped at her mouth and stroked her tongue with my own. I drew her in and teased her until she softened and wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back. I felt her soft little sigh all the way down into the deepest, darkest parts of me that had never seen the light of day.
I never apologized. Not for any of the things I had ever done, because to me an apology was as effective as slapping a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.
I rubbed my lips against hers and whispered, “I’m sorry.” The words felt foreign and heavy on my tongue and I was shocked that I meant them. “I didn’t stop to think that something like that would make you feel exposed and embarrassed. To be fair, I wasn’t thinking about much beyond your hand on my cock.”
She huffed out an annoyed sound and crossed her arms over her chest. Her gray eyes turned from fog to a full-on storm.
“It’s not about being exposed exactly. It’s about us being together and having that mean something special. I’ve been naked in front of more pairs of eyes than any one person can count. When I get naked with you or for you, I want it to mean more than that.”
I swore. When she stopped fighting with me and showed me her soft underbelly, it made me see how really and truly awful I could be even with someone I so desperately wanted to be better for. I reached out and moved the hair that covered half of her face out of the way so that we were staring at each other.
“It means everything.” I assumed she knew that.
She laughed a little and kissed me on the side of the neck, which made me shiver. “Then take better care of it. Be careful, okay? I’m just getting used to you being mine and I barely agreed to let myself be yours.”
Those were her parting words as she walked away from me, and I headed out into the parking lot so I could go take care of one of the seemingly endless number of people that wanted to throw a wrench into my day-to-day operations.
I found the town-house complex where the woman that had run me off the road lived and found the specific unit number in the info Chuck had sent over to me. I sent him another message that I needed him to have Stark do a little creative banking for me before he went on his way. I also sent a text to the estranged husband letting him know I wanted him to meet me at her house and waited for a few minutes for him to show up. When a battered, old Jeep Cherokee parked in front of me, I got out of Chuck’s SUV and waited for the man to make his way over to me.
He looked nervous but surprisingly better than the night I had had him in my dungeon at the club. Maybe being allowed to be who he really was had finally given him some peace.
“You aren’t going to hurt her, are you?” He gulped as I told him I wanted him to get me into the woman’s home.
“Do you care if I do?” I kept my voice even and took the key that he wrestled off his key ring and held out to me.
“Well, she’s a royal bitch, but we were married for a long time. I mean, I don’t want her dead or anything.”
I just lifted my eyebrows at him, which made him gulp. “I guess the two of you should’ve thought about all of that before you decided to show up and force me into the middle of your marital troubles.”
He held up his hands and backed away from me. “I don’t want you in the middle of anything. Whatever business you have with my soon-to-be ex-wife is between the two of you. In fact, I was never even here.”
He got in his car and roared away without looking back at me, so I crossed the street and made my way up to the front door. I put the key in the lock and pushed it open slowly so that if she was home I wouldn’t alert her to my none-too-subtle home invasion. Once I had the door all the way open, I stepped into the house and listened for any sign of life. All the lights were out and I couldn’t hear a TV or anything else that would indicate anyone was home, but I slipped through the rest of the two-bedroom layout just to make sure I was in fact alone. When my search for the homeowner came up empty, I returned to the living room and settled in to wait for my prey.
I sat on the couch, propped my Alden boots up on the coffee table, and took in the bric-a-brac that dotted the walls and shelves. It was a typical middle-income home. Comfortable with nice furnishings, but there wasn’t a single family photo or picture of the once happy couple anywhere to be seen. Granted, maybe she had taken them down after her man left her and told her he preferred men, but still everything seemed cold and sterile.
I wondered if that was how my home felt to Key. I didn’t have any kind of memories or things that I held on to. The place had been professionally decorated when I bought it and I never changed it much. It had no heart to speak of; at least it hadn’t until she asked to stay there. Now I felt her in every wall, every piece of tile, and I saw her reflected back at me in every pane of glass. It had been a pretty shell before she showed up to fill it full with life. I don’t think anyone would argue that she had filled me full with life too.