Chapter 22

My fingers twitch against my palm as I ride the elevator to my penthouse after a long three days away. Relief at being back washes over me and takes me by surprise. I never usually care about getting home. I’ve always been equally comfortable in hotels as I am in my own apartment, but the need to get back to New York as quickly as possible was never far from my mind this entire trip. Maybe it’s because of the way we left things. Another moment and I would have had her naked and pinned to the kitchen counter.

I should have fucked her on our wedding night. Then the precedent would have been set, and we wouldn’t have settled into this bizarre limbo where I’m not sure if I’m allowed to fuck her or not. She’s my wife, right? Sex was always on the table because we’re going to have kids. But each day that passes without us having sex feels like another step further into friends territory, and I find myself completely unsure of how to make a move on her. Like I’ve lost every bit of game I ever had.

Maybe I should simply ask if I can fuck her. Or kiss her and hope it leads to more.

I lick my lips, my dick twitching at the thought of my hands on her. This morning, I sent a text and told her I’d be home tomorrow, but my business wrapped up earlier than expected. I was unable to stay away for a second longer than necessary, so I had the jet prepared early.

While I have zero desire to examine why I couldn’t stay away, I recognize that there can be only one explanation—she’s five foot four and has the most incredible green eyes I’ve ever seen.

Her infectious laugh drifts down the hallway, and I curse under my breath, hoping she doesn’t have a friend over. I want her all to myself, even if it’s only to argue with her.

“Right there, baby girl?” The deep, masculine voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

She releases a long, satisfied moan. “Yeah. Right there.”

What in holy fuck? I stalk toward the den, my heart pounding in my chest and adrenaline pumping through my veins. I’m going to tear his fucking head off, whoever the fuck he is.

He grunts, like whatever he’s doing takes effort, and she moans again. “You’re so good at that.”

Motherfucker! My hands curl into fists at my sides, and when I walk into the room, all I can see is the side of the asshole’s head as he holds her ankle in the air. I snarl, snatching his attention. “You want to get your hands off my fucking wife?”

“Nathan!” Melanie shrieks, bolting upright. She blinks at me, her mouth open. “I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow.”

Yeah, no shit. A growl rumbles out of my chest as I cross the room. The asshole drops her foot but doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable that I’ve just caught him doing fuck knows what to my wife.

Melanie scrabbles to her feet, and only when she stands do I see that she’s wearing pajamas, and one pant leg is rolled up around her knee. “This is Tyler.”

I glare at him, and the cheeky prick has the audacity to smile at me. He’s fully clothed too, so I have no idea what the hell they were just doing. “We haven’t met.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.

I glare at his outstretched palm. “What the fuck were you doing with your hands on my wife?”

Melanie covers her mouth but doesn’t manage to stifle her snicker, and I train my glare on her. Does she think this is fucking funny? I guess the ferocity of my gaze stops her giggles in their tracks because her eyes widen, and she drops her hand. “Nathan, this is Tyler. My cousin. I told you about him, remember?”

I search her face for any hint of deceit. She’s talked about him several times, but this giant tattooed fucker is not the man she described.

“Yeah, man. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding.” Tyler stands tall, all six foot plus of him. He’s as wide as a linebacker, but I’ll still knock him on his fucking ass.

I bare my teeth. “What the fuck were you doing to my wife?”

He just stands there and fucking blinks at me, and I launch myself over the couch at him. He steps backward, an amused grin on his face.

“Nathan!” Melanie steps between us, her face a mask of horror. “I had a cramp in my leg. He was massaging it out. He’s my cousin.” She pulls a disgusted face.

I lick my lips and glance between the two of them.

Tyler holds his hands up in surrender. “Yeah, buddy. That is definitely not my deal.” He laughs. Cocky fucker.

Melanie puts a hand on my chest, directly over my racing heart. “I get that must have sounded bad,” she says softly, her lips twitching. “But I told you that he’s a physical therapist. His hands are like a magician’s. He was just getting rid of my cramp.”

I narrow my eyes at her. Is she fucking with me? Her lips are still curling like she wants to laugh, but I’m sure she’s aware that I’m seconds away from tearing Tyler’s head off.

She tilts her head. “There’s nothing going on here, I swear to you. He just got back in town, and I invited him over for pizza and movies.”

“And even if she wasn’t basically like my twin sister, I’m all about the dick,” Tyler adds.

I shoot him a warning glare, but he merely shrugs. My pulse slows to a less alarming rate, and I direct my attention to Mel. “You were fucking moaning.”

“Ugh. That’s not your sex moan, is it?” Tyler balks, his face wrinkling with disgust. “Gross.”

Her cheeks flush pink. “No, that is not my sex moan!”

Tyler arches an eyebrow at me. “Is it?”

How the fuck would I know? I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes for a moment. This wasn’t at all what I expected to come home to.

“Tyler!” Melanie admonishes him.

“What? He’s gotta know what your sex moans sound like. Unless—” He gasps dramatically. “Unless you’ve been faking it!”

Melanie picks a cushion up from the sofa and hits him over the head with it. “I have not been faking. Now stop.”

Laughing, he ducks away from her before she can land another blow. “Then why doesn’t he know the difference between the sounds you make getting a massage and the ones you make getting your rocks off? Have you two not even …” His mouth snaps shut, and he looks from me to Melanie with a wide-eyed expression. “Oh.”

She closes her eyes and takes a breath, then fixes her gaze on me and shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. He’s kind of a lot to deal with.”

Tyler scoffs. “I’m a fucking prize.” Then he snatches the pizza box from the coffee table. “But I think I’d better leave you two newlyweds to get better acquainted.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “You don’t have to go.”

He grins and tucks the pizza box under his arm. “Clearly I do. Because there is some very unresolved tension in this room.” He leans in and whispers the last part like it’s a secret.

As he walks past me, he holds out his hand again. “Real nice to meet you, buddy.”

Finally convinced that I walked in on something that sounded filthy but was in fact entirely innocent, I shake his hand.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, Goose,” he shouts over his shoulder on his way out the door.

I arch an eyebrow at Melanie. “Goose?”

She folds her arms over her chest, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Your wife?”

“You are my fucking wife,” I remind her.

She shrugs before grabbing the two empty soda glasses from the coffee table and carrying them to the kitchen island. I get the discarded pizza box and follow her, dumping it into the trash. She leans against the counter, observing me. “You seemed all kinds of jealous just then, Ice.”

I close the distance between us, and she tilts her head back, giving me a defiant stare. “Well, I came home early from my trip and heard you moaning ‘yeah, right there’ to some guy. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

She crosses her arms. “Well, I’m not a cheater.”

“Well, maybe if I knew what your sex moans sounded like, I would have realized that immediately.”

“Don’t feel bad.” She grins. “Very few guys have heard my actual sex moans.”

The thought of her with any other guy makes me want to punch a hole in something, but I swallow down the unexpected wave of jealousy because I’m having way too much fun playing with her. “Because so very few have agreed to sleep with you, or because they couldn’t make you come?”

A laugh bubbles out of her lips, but she quickly composes herself and gasps, feigning indignation. “That was low, Mr. James.”

“I can go lower.”

She bites her bottom lip, her eyes raking over my face. “I bet you can.”

I dip my head and press my mouth to her ear. “And I can guarantee I’d make you moan for real.”

Her breath catches, and then she purrs. “A guarantee, huh? That’s very bold of you.”

“One hundred percent or your money back.”

She laughs again, and the sound travels straight to my dick, making it jump in my pants. God, I fucking want her.

“I mean I’m intrigued, but …” She tilts her head and flutters her eyelashes.

“But what, Spitfire?” I trail my fingertips over her collarbone, along the slender column of her neck, and suppress a satisfied smile when she shivers at my touch. My mouth waters. I want to touch her. Taste her. Claim her. Her breathing gets heavier, but she doesn’t answer me. “How else are you going to prove to me that what you were doing on the couch with Tyler when I came in here was innocent? To avoid any further confusion, I think I need to know exactly what sounds you make when you come.”

She moistens her lips. “You make it sound like it’s a foregone conclusion that you could. I’m not built that way. It’s not easy for me to … let go.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling her intoxicating scent. “How about I make you a once in a lifetime offer, Mrs. James. I’ll give you one orgasm right now. No expectations, no strings attached. However you want it. What do you say?”

She presses her lips together like she’s deep in thought, and my heart races while I wait for her answer. Finally, she offers me a sweet smile. “Yes.”