A lady must always be presentable, and I’ve been in the most unpresentable state since I arrived here.
What these people must think of me now.
Chapter Fourteen
Whattheabsolutefuck?
A lady must always be presentable.
That’s some fucked-up shit, right there.Birdie has always been fucking perfect the way she is.I’ve never given a good goddamn about all that other shit.I’ve always just wanted her.Makeup or not.Hair flying everywhere.Hoodie and leggings, t-shirt and jeans, whatever the hell she wanted to wear.
I don’t even need to imagine the kind of fucking clothes a proper lady must wear.I have a pretty good idea considering the shit she showed up here in.She’s not realized yet that I got rid of those fucking clothes the same night they showed up.
My Birdie is in there somewhere, and I’ll be goddamned if I let this fucking version of her stick around here.I want my woman back, but more than that, I want our kids to experiencethatversion of their mother.Because the Birdie I knew was such a magnificent fucking creature.
Come hell or high water, Birdie is going to give me that goddamn fire I love so much.Even if I have to fight with her every step of the way to bring it out.
She wants clothes to wear, I’ll make sure she has some, but I’ll be damned if it’s whatever bullshit she has in that piece of shit car.
Anger and frustration guides my movements as I pull some more clothes from my drawers.When I have an armful, I march back down the stairs and into the kitchen.She’s standing at the stove, creating something that smells fucking divine.I don’t miss the way her shoulders tighten when I step into the room.Hell, I don’t even need to be inside her head to know she’s working on putting those walls back up between us.They won’t stay up for long.Not if I have anything to do with it.She may fucking hate me right now, but I’m going to make her remember what it was like between us.What loving each other feels like.But for now, I have enough love for her to carry the both of us until she deems me worthy of opening her heart up to me again.
Birdie finally turns to face me, her eyes dropping to the pile in my arms before peering back into my eyes.“What’s that?”
I toss them on the counter.“You’ve always belonged in my shit.”
“I’m sorry, but those aren’t proper clothes.What if you have company over?I don’t want them to think badly of you because of how I present myself.”
That’s ...fucking ...it.
My brain warns me that this is a bad idea as I march around the counter toward her, but I’m trusting that fucking black heart inside my chest when it whispers that she knows I’d never physically hurt her.
Once I’m in front of her, my hand snakes out and wraps loosely around her throat as I back her against the counter.Her pulse flutters rapidly against my palm, and her eyes flash with fear for a split second before it fades.They warm even as her breathing picks up.
“Good girl,” I murmur when her body relaxes in my grip.
I caress the skin of her throat with my thumb, allowing her time to adjust to my gentle touch so it doesn’t trigger her.
“One day soon, little mama, I’m going to fuck you like a good little whore to remind you who the fuck you are.Who you’ve always been, even when that motherfucker tried stealing you away.BirdiemotherfuckingFitzgerald.”
Wicked delight snaps up my spine when her dull emerald eyes spark with an ember of fire.But when that growl vibrates against my palm ...
Fuck, yeah.
That’s when I know I got her.
When I know my woman is beating under her skin, demanding to be let out.
My dark chuckle scrapes against the back of my throat as I pull her face closer to mine until only a breath of air separates our lips.“There she is.You really should let her come out to play.We’d have so much fun together.”
Anger flickers in the depths, and I wait, begging her silently to let it go.To burn me with her fire.I’ll gladly burn in the motherfucking flames if it brings her back.
Her nostrils flare as she holds my eyes, almost as if she’s daring me to push her a bit further.
So, I do.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I taunt, bringing my other hand up slowly to the bun she has on the top of her head.“Come on, little mama.Show me that Irish temper.”
A loud gasp jerks from her when she feels her curly copper hair fall down her back.
