Page 77
Story: Mad Love
“Or else what?”
“I’ll put you over my knee and spank the living daylights out of you, that’s what.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Blaise,” I growl. “Don’t test me, darling.”
“God, I hate that word.”
“Did you let him fuck you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you and Cillian sleep together?”
“Does it matter?”
“Answering questions with more questions. Not cool, Blaise.”
She swats my shoulder. “That’s my line.”
“Well, did you?”
“Does it matter?”
I grit my teeth. We’re going round and round. Thank fuck we’re outside. I’m sweating balls. I head for the valet. A large hand settles on my shoulder.
“I’m only going to tell you once. Let her go.”
Lethal. Sharp as steel.
I turn around. The group of men have regrouped and are surrounding us. I recognize the tat on the side of their necks. Cillian’s men.
“Not on your life. She’s mine.”
“She is Cillian’s.”
“Is that true, Blaise?”
“Set me down and I’ll tell you.”
Goddammit, she is not making this easy for me, and . . . I fucking like it. Women give in too easily to me. I set her on her feet.
“Yes, I’m his.”
I see red. They did do the dirty. Fuck me.
I grab her hand and demand the men move. “I’m taking my wife home. Now, move.”
“We don’t take our orders from you.”
A crowd is gathering around us. I bring my fingers to my mouth and whistle. It pierces the air and brings in the troops—my security detail. They form a circle around Cillian’s men. My men pull aside the front of their jackets. They’re packing serious firepower. An SUV pulls up to the curb and parks. Granger and Blaise’s men storm out of the blacked-out SUV.
Granger demands they move aside and let Blaise and I pass.
“We don’t take our orders from you,” the prick with the high and tight cut says, enunciating each word.
Then it dawns on me. Blaise is Cillian’s. His men are her men. They are loyal to Cillian and his newest lover, my wife.
“I’ll put you over my knee and spank the living daylights out of you, that’s what.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Blaise,” I growl. “Don’t test me, darling.”
“God, I hate that word.”
“Did you let him fuck you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Did you and Cillian sleep together?”
“Does it matter?”
“Answering questions with more questions. Not cool, Blaise.”
She swats my shoulder. “That’s my line.”
“Well, did you?”
“Does it matter?”
I grit my teeth. We’re going round and round. Thank fuck we’re outside. I’m sweating balls. I head for the valet. A large hand settles on my shoulder.
“I’m only going to tell you once. Let her go.”
Lethal. Sharp as steel.
I turn around. The group of men have regrouped and are surrounding us. I recognize the tat on the side of their necks. Cillian’s men.
“Not on your life. She’s mine.”
“She is Cillian’s.”
“Is that true, Blaise?”
“Set me down and I’ll tell you.”
Goddammit, she is not making this easy for me, and . . . I fucking like it. Women give in too easily to me. I set her on her feet.
“Yes, I’m his.”
I see red. They did do the dirty. Fuck me.
I grab her hand and demand the men move. “I’m taking my wife home. Now, move.”
“We don’t take our orders from you.”
A crowd is gathering around us. I bring my fingers to my mouth and whistle. It pierces the air and brings in the troops—my security detail. They form a circle around Cillian’s men. My men pull aside the front of their jackets. They’re packing serious firepower. An SUV pulls up to the curb and parks. Granger and Blaise’s men storm out of the blacked-out SUV.
Granger demands they move aside and let Blaise and I pass.
“We don’t take our orders from you,” the prick with the high and tight cut says, enunciating each word.
Then it dawns on me. Blaise is Cillian’s. His men are her men. They are loyal to Cillian and his newest lover, my wife.
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