: Chapter 32

Temper flaring, I stride across the lawn.

I was in the office longer than I’d planned, working on my little project, but it worked to calm me down.

Until I found the bedroom fucking empty.

I glance at my phone screen, making sure the dot hasn’t moved, then shove it into my pocket.

Savannah hasn’t left the property. I know that much. The alarms would go off if anyone climbed the fence. So I’m going with my first guess. She’s with the dog.

My traitor, turncoat dog.

Before I bothered to check security footage, I decided to pull up his tracking chip. And finding him stationary at the staff house makes me think that he’s up to something.

I could whistle, get him to come to me from a mile away. But I’d prefer to arrive undetected.

Flickering firelight glows before me, and as I get closer, I can hear voices.

“What? No, ew.” Savannah’s laugh slows my steps. “It’s gotta be German chocolate cake.”

“Boo!” a male that sounds a lot like my gardener complains. “No way something with coconut can even qualify for the best.”

“You can’t like, make up the rules after we start.” Savannah’s reply is a little slow.

Did these idiots get my wife drunk?

And where the fuck is Duke?

“Sure I can,” Jamie replies. “And some stodgy old cake is not going to be the last course in my final meal.”

“Well, no duh, Sherlock” Savannah replies, making the women snicker. “I’m not gonna have some amateur cooking for me when the meteor hits the earth. It’s gonna be Chef Kesso, or that one guy that yells at everyone.”

“You’re both dumb.” I hear Ginger chime into the ridiculous conversation. “It’s ice cream.”

Silence reigns, as Ginger apparently wins the discussion, and I finally spot Savannah. She’s sprawled in the grass, arms wide, using my highly trained, very expensive guard dog as a pillow.

The other three are still sitting in chairs around the fire, and I’m annoyed at how close I was about to get before Cici lets out a sound of surprise, finally spotting me.

“What––” Jamie starts, then sees me.

I narrow my eyes at them, well aware of how menacing I must look appearing out of the dark.

Savannah’s not even aware of the disturbance, as I cut across the grass to her.

She’s staring up at the sky, not a damn worry in the world.

I should probably feel bad about ruining this for her, but that split second when I thought she might actually be gone…I need her to pay for that.

I step up to her side, leaning over so my face is above hers, blocking out the stars.

I expect her to startle. Maybe flinch. But instead, she does something unexpected.

She smiles.

And it’s so much more than I ever thought to hope for.

“Hi,” she breathes.

“Hello, wife.”

“You’re handsome.”

Three people behind me try, and fail, to muffle their laughter.

I lean a little closer, trying to see her features in the dim light. “Are you drunk?”

She shakes her head. “High.”

I sigh, “Hi, Savannah. Have you been drinking?”

She snickers and puts a hand next to her mouth, like she wants to tell me a secret.

Obliging the intoxicated beauty, I drop into a crouch, which is apparently close enough to put me in secret-sharing distance. “We smoked weed.”

I let my head drop back. “You got my wife high?”

“Umm…” Jamie starts, but no one finishes the sentence.

I look back down at Savannah, “Are you okay?”

She’s still smiling as she nods, making Duke lift his head, finally acknowledging me.

Savannah reaches up to brush her fingers across my cheek. “Don’t be mad at Duke. I told him I needed a fire and he found me one.”

The feeling of her skin against mine delays my brain. “Fire?”

“Yeah, I…” her eyes go wide, and she pulls her hand away from my face to drop it over her mouth.

Suspicion makes me stand and turn toward the fire. There’s still a small flame in the center of the pit giving off enough light for me to spot the charred square frame resting along the top of the pit.

I slowly turn back to Savannah, only this time I step across her form. Once I’m straddling her, one foot planted on either side of her hips, I lower back into a crouch. “Honey, did you burn my painting?”

“Well, technically,” she hedges, “it’s…”

Before she can finish, I drop my weight forward, my knees sinking into the thick grass as I snap my hand out to grip her chin.

“If you say his name right now, so help me god, I will be forced to teach you a lesson.”

I hear someone behind me mutter Jesus but I keep my eyes focused on Savannah.

Only she’s too stoned to be intimidated. Instead, she just blinks up at me with a dazed look on her face. “How’d you find me?”

“Duke.”

Savannah reaches a hand up, rubbing at the dog’s neck. “He’s a girl’s best friend.”

Since she’s not even paying attention.

I let go of her chin, and trail my thumb down the front of her neck. “Let’s get you to bed, Savannah Baby.”

She takes a slow breath, her head tilting to the side. “Why do you call me that?”

Because I’ve always wanted to call someone Baby.

Because your pretty eyes call to something inside of me.

Because you fucking belong to me, and I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.

“Because I want to.”

She nods, like I gave her a real answer.

“Come on,” I move to hook my hands under her armpits, but she shrieks and slams her elbows to her side.

“Don’t tickle me!”

Snickers sound around the fire.

“I’m not going to tickle you. I’m going to help you up.” Though now I am thinking about tickling her. And it has its merits.

Tickles already forgotten, Savannah blinks up at me. “Can Duke come with us?”

I don‘t know if I want to pinch the bridge of my nose or laugh. “Yeah, Duke is coming with us.”

“But I mean, like all the way to bed. Can he sleep with us?”

I swear Duke is giving me the side-eye, and I’m certain my stoner staff are all eavesdropping.

“We’ll see,” I lie. I have zero intentions of letting anyone, or anything, come between me and a cuddly Savannah. “Now come on, let’s go.”

This time she lets me tuck my hands under her arms, so as I stand, she does too.

“Good?” I ask. I don’t want to let go and have her fall over.

“Good,” she parrots.

There’s a loose piece of grass in her ponytail, so I let go of her with one hand and carefully pluck it free.

“Can you walk?” I know high people can walk, but I don’t know just how high she is.

Savannah turns her head, looking toward the illuminated outline of the house. Probably measuring how far away it is. “Can you give me a piggyback ride?”

More poorly covered snickers.

When she turns back to me, she has such a pleading look on her face I just sigh, “Fine.”

Her smile is pure. And it makes me feel like an absolute asshole.

She’s so lovely. Pretty. Friendly. Kind. And I basically stole her. Literally kidnapped her. Forced her to marry me.

I don’t deserve her smiles.

Unaware of my growing self-hatred, Savannah reaches out, placing her palm on my chest.

With her wide eyes gazing up at me, she breathes, “Awesome.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, not missing the practically constant chuckles across the fire.

“Step up here,” I gesture to a sturdy wooden chair, then help Savannah climb on. “Put your hands on my shoulders.” She does. “Don’t let go. I’m gonna turn around.” Her hands trail across my shoulders as I turn.

I bend my knees, lowering myself, then reach back to grip one of her thighs and pull it around my waist. “Get on.”

Her arms go around my neck next, then I reach back and pull her other leg around me.

Savannah squeaks when I stand to my full height. And with my hands still reached back around her thighs, I boost her up, and she tightens her legs around me.

I’m facing the fire, and the trio sitting around it, the humor slipping off their faces. “I’d appreciate a heads up before you decide to get my wife high again.”

They nod and I turn away, cargo secured on my back.

“Party pooper,” Savannah’s head lolls forward until she’s resting her chin on my shoulder.

I gently tap my temple to hers. “Don’t fall asleep back there, I need you holding on.”

She shifts her grip, her arms looped around my neck in a hug, and I start walking back to the house.

With the dog trotting next to us, we cross the yard in near silence, and it takes all I have to focus on my steps.

The way her legs are spread around my back… It’s fucking killing me.

The thin, soft pants she’s wearing, that I’ve wanted to touch all night, are doing nothing to mask the heat of her cunt on my lower back. And my cotton shirt is hardly any better.

My thickening dick is making my pants uncomfortable.

What I wouldn’t give to throw her into the grass right now and bury my face in her pussy.

I bet with my mouth on her, she’d get soaking wet.

I bet she’s noisy.

I bet she tastes like lust.

“Why haven’t I heard of The Alliance?” Savannah’s question tears my mind away from my cock.

“It’s not exactly common knowledge.”

“But you said people know about you now.” Her big tits push against my back with every inhale, and feeling the vibrations of her voice through her chest is extremely distracting.

“I meant people in the underground.”

“The underground?”

“Bad men, Savannah,” I clarify, though I’m not sure she’ll remember this conversation.

“Bad men, like you.” She doesn’t really say it like a question, but there’s something in her tone that hints at disbelief. Like maybe she’s starting to question if I’m a bad man.

Even though she caught me standing over my brother-in-law’s corpse.

“Like me,” I repeat back.