I learn why when she says, “That’s Roy’s favorite chair. He inherited it from his mother. She isn’t dead. She just knows how much I hate that chair. I can’t believe I missed it during my purge of his belongings.”
I already knew Mrs. Martin is a steaming pile of shit—you can’t raise a turd, shove a stick up its ass, and then call it a corn dog—but the disgust in Miranda’s eyes exposes I still have a lot to learn about the Martins.
I’ll start with his mother, once I’ve broken her god-ugly chair.
16
MIRANDA
When I throw the broken remains of my once-mother-in-law’s chair into the trash can the garbage collection unit recently emptied, Nero’s eyes stray to the firepit I’ve kept well-lit for the past week.
His eyes glow with as much enthusiasm now as they have with lust the past twenty-four hours when I say, “A proper burial seems too good for any belongings ofthatwoman.”
There’s no deceit in my tone, no treachery, so Nero accepts my reply as if it is gospel before he holds out his hand in offering.
I can’t recall the exact time he suggested we take a ride on his motorcycle, but since it was sometime between orgasm five and eleven, I stupidly agreed.
Cut me some slack. I’ve been riding the high of ecstasy for three days straight.
No one has smarts after one orgasm, let alone multiple.
While admiring the sexy curves of his pride and joy, I ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to take my car? It’s chilly out.”
I’m such a liar, and Nero knows this. With an arched brow and a furled top lip, he curls his tattooed fingers around my wrist and tugs me forward until I either hook my leg over his bike or flop over the seat like I’m about to be spanked.
The idea of being spanked by Nero isn’t unappealing, but since I’m just as curious to discover where he’s taking me under the guise of a late-night ride, I slip onto the seat instead of lying across it, and then I curl my arms around his waist.
Nero’s bike is as sexy as his face. It is dark, dangerous, and brooding. The rumbles of its engine when he kicks it over add to the throbs my pussy has been rarely without for the past week.
I nod like I’m not being eyeballed by a neighbor when Nero asks if I’m ready to go. Then I squeal. Nero’s bike has a lot of power. It thrusts me back and reminds me that with the right amount of willpower, even the biggest obstacles can be pushed aside.
Take my marital status as an example.
Excluding the multiple times I’ve dreamed about arriving at the hotel ten minutes too late or using the gun I found minutes after discovering my cheating ex bound and gagged in a closet, Roy has barely entered my thoughts.
I can’t wait to wash my hands of him. I just need to make sure Tempy isn’t caught by friendly fire first, and then all cards are off the table.
I’ll staple Roy’s nuts to the wall.
Within minutes, the familiarity of my surroundings vanish, replaced with long stretches of road and heavily treed properties.
“You’re not taking me out here to kill me, are you?”
I have to shout to ensure Nero can hear me. The wind is howling, and since neither of us are wearing helmets, there’s nothing to protect our ears from the elements.
“I’ve heard stories about the woodlands that border the Popov mansion. Nothing good occurs here.”
Nero laughs, aware the stories are the ones he’s shared with me over the past two days. He stopped hiding who he was the instant I stopped letting society tell me what job titles they deem acceptable.
“If you are, can we play a game of chase first?”
I swallow my sass for a later date when we bypass a familiar street sign. It is for the main road of the Popov mansion, and it reminds me that I’m not meant to be living my best days when what should be the most important day of a couple’s life is days away from being ruined.
It has been almost forty-eight hours since Nero offered to help me get the items I need to bring Justine’s ideal wedding reception to fruition, but I haven’t given him my list yet.
When I wrote down just the basics, it was obvious what I was asking was excessive.
Roy stripped my warehouse clean, leaving nothing but dust bunnies in his wake. I need everything from industrial ovens and the tents we use to shelter them while cooking to napkin rings and placement holders we place on every table setting.
