“Are you okay?” He grabs my hand, caressing it tenderly. I inhale sharply at the sparks of electricity left by his touch, and his eyes turn towards mine, warmer and more gentle than I’ve seen in a long time.
“Nothing looks broken,” he says quickly, letting go of me. He shrugs, kicking the ground with his combat boot, and hishands are fisted at his sides. “I’m sorry if my company’s new contract inconveniences you. But after the initial consultation, I guarantee you’ll rarely see me. After all, I own the company. I’m not personally providing the security. And once the kids get older, you can see even less of me.”
I bite my lower lip. I’m stuck between reminding him to sign the divorce papers and apologizing to him. Not so long ago, he was the only person on this planet I counted on seeing for the rest of my life. I feel a part of me dying with that expectation.
Instead, I excuse myself. “I need to get back inside. Everyone’s going to think I ditched them.” I’m so close to tears, my voice shakes, and it’s not because of the stinging in my palm.
He nods, concern washing over his face. But thankfully, he says nothing. The last thing I need right now is a close examination of my emotional state—a hot mess. “Yep, I’ll walk you inside.”
Twenty minutes later, Wolfe escorts me to my Toyota, the only vehicle left in the dark museum parking lot across the street and a few blocks from the bar. I accept his offer begrudgingly because there’s no arguing with him when it comes to safety.
The evening’s over for me. I don’t feel like drinking, and I’ve lost my appetite, especially since Wolfe’s group and the unmarried portion of mine have buddied up with Selma and Laurie. I can’t stand the sight of those two anywhere near Wolfe, even though I know it’s irrational.
I also second-guess myself for leaving the kids with Wyatt, Birdie, and Zane. This makes me even more pissed at Wolfe for bringing up the custody discussion in the first place. I haven’t done anything wrong, but guilt still puts me on edge.
The heat from Wolfe’s hand radiates into my lower back as he leads me to my car, although his hand skims carefully over my shirt, never pressing intothe flesh beneath.
“Please promise me you won’t park here next time you’re at Lucky’s. It’s too dark and dangerous, Izzie. Do what I always tell you. Please. Park under a streetlight where everyone can see you, and start carrying mace.”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” I reply, eliciting a fierce growl from him. But inside, a part of me is touched that he still cares. “Besides, you’re parked over here, too.” I point out his truck at the end of the street corner.
“Honey, nobody’s going to approach me. Just my height alone scares the shit out of people. You can’t say the same thing.”
At my red Toyota 4Runner, he looks nervous. I never see him like this. Clearing his throat, he points over his shoulder towards Lucky’s. “For the record, I’m not going back in there tonight. I can call you in half an hour, if you want proof.” He looks down as he says the last phrase.
The words touch and trouble me simultaneously as I wonder what happened in the UAE. It’s the most critical question in our marriage and one he’s made clear he won’t answer. I should ask anyway. After all, what do I have to lose at this point? But he’s got me so well-trained to avoid specific topics that I frown instead, biting my tongue until it should be bleeding.
Wolfe’s brows furrow as he brings his eyes to mine, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. My heart soars at the simple action, and I work hard to control my breathing.
Shaking my head, I point at his wedding band, trying to lighten the mood. “Probably not the best accessory for getting laid at a bar anyway.”
He looks away for a long moment, and I almost swear he’s choked up. When his blazing eyes meet mine again, I’m sure of it. He swallows loudly, scrunching his face as he says, “You know that’s not what I want.”
I shouldn’t ask the next question, but I can’t stop myself. “What do you want?” It’s a question I need to ask myself, too.
His eyes meet mine, searching them for a tense moment. My heart hammers behind my rib cage so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. “Did you really just ask me that?” he growls dangerously, caging me against the side of the Toyota. Looking up, he scans the parking lot cautiously to see who’s watching.
I feel tiny when his gaze returns to me, and he leans forward, letting me feel his arousal against my stomach. He’s rock-hard, and I’m instantly drenched. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lift my leg and wrap it invitingly around him. It’s been so long, and I miss him viscerally—with every inch of my flesh and bone.
I let out a ragged breath as he cocks his head to the side, moving closer to me. His warm, musky fragrance both comforts and heightens the desperate need for satisfaction as his lips drop to my neck. His hot breath envelopes the tender flesh of my décolletage, and my nipples instantly harden. My breasts grow heavy with desire, and my head feels foggy from need.
Warning bells go off in my head. I need to stop this. We’re just a few signatures away from divorce. But these thoughts feel distant, faint as his ravenous lips, moist tongue, and rough afternoon stubble tease the sensitive part of my neck, sending thrills of lust up and down my body. He knows every spot intimately, and my skin awakens to his familiar touch.
“Wolfe,” I moan involuntarily, threading my fingers through his buzzed brown hair.
He squeezes my neck lightly, his thumb resting on the pulse point. Tracing the back of his hand lightly down my neck and chest to the front of my shirt, he unleashes a thousand shivers of desire, culminating beneath the knuckles that graze my pebbled nipples. His lips finish thework, incinerating the flesh of my neck and upper chest, and he buries his head in my cleavage.
Logic tells me to stop him. But my desperate hips encourage him, thrusting against his legs, begging for more. Mindlessly, I push my chest up towards him, hungry to feel him work dark magic with his tongue, lips, and teeth.
I’m moments away from inviting him back to my place, though I know the results will be disastrous. But I’d have to leave the kids at his dad’s house longer. I don’t want to have that conversation again.
He moans primally, deep in his throat. Grabbing my hand, he covers his stiff rod with it. I knead into his steely girth with abandon, knowing nothing else will satisfy the painful throb centered at the top of my legs. Even though this temptation will undo the life I’ve worked so hard to build over the last few months, the consequences seem distant.
Finally, his mouth captures mine, and I involuntarily sigh into his kiss, inviting his tongue to claim me. He takes me savagely, like a desert-bound man, two weeks without water and finally at the well. The suggestive thrusts of his possessive tongue leave me breathless, and I long to feel those sensations in other parts of my body. He has to know it as I melt into his lips, actively mating my tongue with his.
He seizes the mound between my legs, escalating the painful throb as his fingers rub my clit through the fabric of my skirt and panties, and his breath gets darker, deeper. I grind into him, still cupping his hardness in my hand until I feel my pussy powerfully clenching and releasing, waves of desire shaking me. I stifle a cry, rocking into his hand as I come, and he growls.
Wolfe’s dick grinds into my hand, and he breathes more like a beast than a man. I beg, “Please, Wolfe, please.” I don’t even know what I’m asking for. My head floats far away as he thrusts his hips into my hand forcefully, convulsing against meand letting out a frantic groan. After a long pause, he mutters in low tones, “Fuck.”
