Page 33 of Burn Bag (Owens Protective Services #31)

My eyes mistakenly wandered over the man in front of me, taking in all that lean muscle and the dangerous glint in his eyes. I knew they were all married. Hell, I was married. But was it really wrong to let my eyes appreciate the male form?

“Fox!”

I jerked around at the sound of my husband’s angry voice.

I hid the knives behind my back, though I wasn’t sure why.

Bradley was pissed. His hair all mussed up like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over again, and his muscles bunching and twisting under that shirt that looked just a tad too small.

Then again, most of these men looked like they needed a tailor for everyday clothes.

And then there was the way he filled out those pants.

I sighed internally, desperate for another kiss from my husband or a touch that might lead to more.

“What the fuck is going on?”

I quickly ducked my head, telling myself to stop staring at him. Unfortunately, my husband did not look at me the same way I looked at him. It was a shame, but not that surprising considering how we met. Maybe one day that would change, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

“Excuse me, but you’re interrupting our lesson,” Fox chuckled. “You’ll need to get in line.”

I glanced at the men against the wall and frowned. What did that mean?

“Fox, my wife has been gone all day. I didn’t know where she was, and then I found out you had her in your creepy bedroom the whole time!”

“Excuse me, but my room is not creepy.”

Bradley grabbed my hand and tugged me to his side. “We’re going home.”

“But we were just getting into the basics of implementing dance fighting!” he shouted as Bradley dragged me behind him.

I didn’t know what my husband was so mad about, but as we stormed into the house a few minutes later, I began to wonder if this had anything to do with me at all. He was muttering to himself and pacing the room. He was probably just hungry.

“Do you want me to make some food?” I asked, skirting around him to the kitchen. It was already ten o’clock at night. He was probably starving.

“What were you doing with him all day?”

I snorted as I got to work in the kitchen, pulling out anything edible to make a meal. “Mostly slept. Fox forced me to watch a bunch of black and white musicals. And what is his obsession with Funyuns? I cannot eat another one of those if it’s the last edible thing in the kitchen.”

“And that’s all?”

I spun, watching him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“That’s all that happened?”

“What do you mean?”

His jaw clenched as he stared at me from the entry of the kitchen. Barely contained rage simmered under his skin that I didn’t understand.

“I mean, what else did you do with Fox?”

I shrugged, thinking over the long hours of my day. “Not much. After he deemed it appropriate for me to put my well-earned knowledge to use, we went to his training center where he gave me a beautiful set of throwing knives and proceeded to insult me at how bad I am at using them.”

“And then?”

I stared at him in confusion. “And then…oh, and then those other men showed up. Which, by the way, did you know that not a single one of you is like…normal?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

I went back to work as I thought over the men leaning against the wall.

“Well, there’s that angry man who wears redneck stuff.

He’s like…seriously built. His muscles have muscles, and it was quite distracting.

And then there’s the guy who keeps combing his hair.

I had no idea it was a requirement to look that good while doing your job,” I snorted. “And then there’s the dark brute.”

“What dark brute?”

“The sexy cowboy. Seriously, doesn’t a cowboy hat get in the way when you’re—” I yelped as I was spun around and pressed up against the counter.

Bradley stood flush against me, his hand gripping my hip harshly as he snarled angrily at me. “Sexy cowboy?”

The restrained anger flaring in his eyes and the way he spoke finally clued me in to what the problem was. That and the rather hard length pressing against my stomach .

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I tried to think up something to say, but before I got the chance, his lips crashed into mine in a brutal kiss. I moaned into his mouth as his hand slipped into my hair and tugged my head back as his lips skimmed over my neck and across my bare shoulder.

“Bradley,” I whispered breathlessly.

Desire bloomed in my belly as his fingers went from the harsh grip on my hip to trailing ever so slowly across my pelvis before dipping lower. My breath caught as his knuckle pressed just above my clit.

“Please,” I hissed, sucking in a breath just as his knuckle skimmed lower, igniting something inside me that I didn’t know was already simmering on low.

“Still think that broody cowboy is sexy?” he rumbled, his teeth grazing my neck.

I gasped as his fingers strummed against my clit, teasing me over and over again. “W-what?”

“Or that redneck?” he growled. “How did you say it? He’s built?”

I tried desperately to pay attention to his words, but all I could think about was how I wanted his hand inside my pants instead of teasing me from the outside.

“Bradley,” I moaned. “Please…”

“Please, what?” he snarled.

And then my pants were torn down my legs and I was hauled up on the counter. I barely felt the material ripped free from my body as he spread my legs wide and cool air mixed with the desire to feel his fingers on me again.

“You will never think of another man again,” he snarled.

And then he was there…his hot tongue pressing against my core, his teeth nipping at my clit. I sucked in a ragged breath as he devoured me. My body jerked against his face as he slid two fingers inside me, snarling as he nipped at me with his teeth.

“Oh God!” I cried out, gripping his hair in my fingers as I held him to me, riding his face as I wrapped my legs around his head. This was what I had been missing from the start, what I desperately needed, though I hadn’t realized it .

“Are you still thinking about them?” he muttered, flicking his tongue against me. “Tell me what I have to do to make sure you never look at them again.”

“I—” I sucked in a ragged breath, barely understanding the words leaving his mouth before he latched onto me again and drove me over the edge. I bucked against him, needing so much more as I cried out and writhed in his arms.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he growled, thrusting his fingers in and out of me so hard I banged back against the cabinet.

Stars exploded behind my eyes as my orgasm hit me hard, making it impossible to do anything but shake in his arms as he continued to draw out every last emotion from my body.

With one final swipe of his tongue over my body, I shivered and slumped against the cabinet, unable to move even the slightest. What the hell was that?

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about another man like that unless you want my cock pounding inside you, reminding you exactly who you belong to.”

Through a fog of lust and desire, I realized the man I married was jealous. One hundred percent insanely jealous because I had mentioned other men. I hadn’t meant anything by it, other than noting who they were. But that didn’t matter. Bradley had a jealous streak a mile wide, and now I knew it.

He stepped back suddenly, his face filled with confusion just before he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.