Page 11 of Forced Alpha Bride

“Your reputation precedes you!”

“So does yours.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“My ass is many things, but I don’t think it’s smart.”

The corner of her mouth twitches as if she wants to smile. There’s just the slightest glint in her eye, and I’m pretty sure I just scored a point.

“Need a closer look?” I ask, turning around and flexing a bit. I hear a soft gasp and a neatthumpas she sits back down again.

I might not be popular in this town, but it never stopped the girls from talking about me. Maybe it was just because they couldn’t date me—it added to the frustration of it. Imagine one of these good girls bringing home the leader of the rogue pack.

As I turn back to face Winnie, I do another little flex. She’s staring at me with wide eyes, her lips parted slightly as she watches me turn.

“So, what do you think?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest.

“What?”

“My ass. Does it look smart?”

“I…” Winnie flounders for a second, making my satisfaction grow. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this, and it’s going far better than I imagined it would.

“Stop dicking around!” Winnie barks. “This is serious, and you’re twirling like a model on the catwalk.”

“Only giving you what you want,” I answer flippantly, curling my arms to show off my biceps.

I’ve never had so much fun in my life. She’s cute, smart, and clearly taken with me. Once we get over our initial nervousness, this marriage is going to be great!

“Did I say I want you to prance around like a goddamn show pony!” Winnie yells, and something about her tone rubs me the wrong way. It sounds cultured, superior… and bossy.

Don’t fucking tell me what to do.

“Okay, we’ve had fun,” I say, my voice low and deep. “But enough of that. You’re my wife, and you can’t disrespect me like this.”

As if she knows exactly what irked me, Winnie looks at me down her nose, keeping her voice firm and precise.

“You’re not legally my husband,” she says in a scathing tone. “And even if you were, I don’t have to obey you.”

“That’s exactly what it means!” I growl, completely losing my composure. “You’re mine now. I paid for you, and now I get to keep you.”

“As if I need your money,” she scoffs, and I see a flicker of something in her eyes that could be fear, or lust… or both.

“That’s irrelevant,” I dismiss. “I signed a contract, and you did, too. That means you’re mine.”

“I signed a contract,” Winnie says, standing up. “But that doesn’t mean you own me.”

She takes an elegant step back and crosses her arms across her plump breasts. I lose my train of thought again. Even though she’s only in warm jeans and a snug sweater, she carries herself as if she’s dressed in a regal gown.

I’d love to see her in a gorgeous dress…

“Have you faded out again?” Winnie asks, her tone sharp.

“Yes,” I admit, my voice tense. “As a matter of fact, I did. That’s how little your words mean to me.”

Her eyes widen suddenly, and her cheeks burn.

“How dare you!” she snaps. “I am a Ramses—daughter of Cliff and sister to Galen! You will treat me with respect, or you will suffer the wrath of Quartz Key.”