Page 33 of Her Wicked Husband (The Huxleys #2)

“The compromise was that Dad got full custody of us and the divorce he wanted. I was relieved, since I didn’t want anything to do with my mother.

But the family elders conveniently forgot to mention that she could try to worm her way back into our lives once all of us kids had turned thirty.

Guess they either didn’t want to worry us…

or maybe they hoped she’d find somebody else during those years and start another family to be obsessed with. ” I shrug.

“But she didn’t, did she?” Fiona says hoarsely.

“No. She apparently spent all that time obsessing about us.”

“And your stepmom,” Fiona adds. “Zoe mentioned her.”

“I’m sure, but she won’t touch my stepmom.

” She can’t afford to, no matter how much she despises Dad’s second wife.

Akiko is a master at playing politics within the family.

She understands and respects the complicated family dynamics and history and has never expressed any desire to rock the boat, so to speak.

She’d never keep us away from Zoe if we wanted to see her, but if my mother crosses Akiko, she’ll strike back using everything at her disposal.

And as a member of a powerful zaibatsu, she’s a lot more influential than she lets on.

Mom already has too many enemies. She doesn’t want to add another power player to the list.

Fiona continues to look at me, her eyes unblinking as she processes what I’m telling her.

I consider my words, to impart the seriousness of the situation without overly alarming her.

“Vincent—my mother’s father—is older and has grown much more sentimental about family.

He seems to regret the decision he made to save Mom and discard us the way he did.

Based on his behavior, I’m guessing he thought my brothers and I would understand his untenable situation and let it go.

Except we didn’t. As far as we’re concerned, that side of the family doesn’t exist. So he’s overcompensating, insisting that Mom and her brother bring about a tearful, heartfelt reunion between us and him. ”

“What happens if they fail?”

I run a finger across my neck. “Or maybe something worse, if their mob brains can think of nastier options.” I shrug.

“Outwardly, it’s about the family reunion, but in reality, it’s about control over the mob.

Mom knows she has a better chance of swimming to Mars, so she’s trying to create a great-grandchild to soften his heart. ”

Understanding dawns on Fiona’s face. I give her a few minutes to think it through and figure out the implications.

Finally, she exhales and shakes her head. “That still doesn’t mean we should get married. I have plans for my future that include a man who loves me and a family I can really belong to. I’m not going to throw that away just to keep your mother away.”

Fiona’s dream isn’t unreasonable, but the idea of marrying a man who’ll love her makes my jaw clench.

The nasty, acidic feeling in my belly is jealousy.

I’m not dumb enough to deny that. Unfortunately, the awareness doesn’t lessen the frustration of knowing that I’m never going to be that man.

I can’t be, when I’ll wake up every morning wondering if today’s the day she’ll betray me.

I could try giving her another chance, but in my experience, people never change, not where it counts.

Just look at my own mother. A moment of hesitation was all it took for her to take advantage.

The fact that she got to hurt Ares kills me.

I should’ve been the one who was grabbed and left to die in that fire.

“Okay, let’s say we don’t get married.” I recline and stretch out my legs. “What’s your plan to get my mom off our backs?”

Surprise fleets over her face, and her expression softens for a second before it firms. “Our backs? I’m going to worry about mine, thank you very much.”

“Fine. Your back.”

She glares at me. “I don’t know, since it hasn’t been twenty-four hours since I got this big news thrown in my face. But don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”

“If you think going to Wisconsin will save you, you’re wrong. She has tentacles everywhere in the country. If she doesn’t want to send her own men out there, it doesn’t take that much money to hire someone.”

Fiona’s jaw drops. “Are you trying to scare me into marrying you?”

I shrug. “Just giving you the full picture. Mom doesn’t care what she has to do or who she has to hurt to get what she wants. The ends always justify the means. And she holds a grudge.”

“That’s…” Fiona shakes her head, like she can’t think of a word.

But then, Mom has that kind of effect on people.

“So she’s literally going to kill me for having gotten in her way last night and continue to drug you to get women pregnant?

” Horror and shock twist her face. “Oh my God, she’s basically attempting to have you raped to suck up to her father. ”

“I guess. ”

“It doesn’t bother you?” Fiona asks in a hoarse whisper.

I shrug again. “It’s just…what it is. Mom has never cared about anyone else’s agency or consent. She just does what she wants.”

Fiona gives me the strangest look. If I didn’t know better, I might think it was pity or sympathy.

She doesn’t seem to notice the tears filling her eyes, probably because they aren’t falling.

The unexpected intensity of her reaction is stunning.

I start to open my mouth to tell her I’m used to it and it isn’t a big deal, but—

“I don’t know how you can sound so blasé. The Bryce I knew in college would never have been okay with somebody messing with his life like that. You were always headstrong and proud, and I admired that about you because those were two traits I wished I had.” Her voice cracks.

Her broken tone clenches my heart, and the horror and sympathy in her words take me back to the past, when she fooled me into thinking she reciprocated my feelings.

She exhales softly. “One year with the two million dollars between us cleared and settled. I want to give us an opportunity to live our lives freely without anybody meddling in them. I’m hoping that by then, your mother will give up or her brother will find a way to deal with her.”

The depth of my desire to want to take her at face value is terrifying. But I can’t allow people I love to get hurt because I stupidly believe someone I shouldn’t. The guilt would destroy me. So I force a light laugh. “A year? Are you kidding? Do you think you’re worth two million dollars a year?”

Fiona shoots me a death glare.

I continue, “I say you owe me two years—actually, more like four. No, really more like forty.”

“How did you get to forty ?”

“Fifty thousand a year?”

If this were a video game, her rage gauge would explode. Her chest heaves as she puts her hands on her hips. “Bryce, I know it’s difficult for you to understand, but I’m not as cheap as you think.”

I should quit pressing her buttons, but I can’t stop. “It would be difficult—”

“Arrrgh! ”

She comes at me, her face crimson with rage and a finger pointed in my chest. But she steps on one of the discarded stilettos, losing her balance and pitching forward. She grips my shoulders to catch herself. At the same time, I catch her waist, cushioning her fall with my body.

She immediately pushes herself up, sitting in my lap. From the fury burning in her eyes, it’s obvious she’s pissed at my provocation and her own clumsiness. I don’t think she realizes that she’s sitting directly on my crotch.

My blood, meanwhile, flows south, my body completely oblivious to her anger. I had her for hours last night, but I want her again. Badly.

“You make it so hard for me to be nice to you,” she says between gritted teeth.

I smile up at her, lifting my hips so she can feel my hardening cock. “I don’t know. I think you’re being pretty nice.”

The flush on her face spreads to her neck and chest. “You bastard.”

My grin widens. “From time to time.” I hold her hips and rock against her, making sure to give her the stimulation that never fails to excite her.

Her breathing shallows. “Let me go , you jerk.”

“Me, a jerk?” I widen my eyes innocently. “You’re the one who threw yourself at me.”

“You provoked me.”

“Just correcting your math.”

She wraps her hands around my neck, tightening her grip.

I palm the sweet curve of her pelvis and ass. “You gonna choke me, baby?”

Her eyes narrow. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“If I get to be inside you at the same time.” I rock my hard dick against her.

Heat flares in her eyes, but there’s also a tinge of self-directed cringe and fury. “You’re impossible!”

“So kiss me. Make me shut up,” I dare her, looking at her soft, sweet mouth.

Pursing her lips, she shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What’s the difference? Is your mouth more precious than your pussy? ”

“Too intimate. It would almost be like I liked you.”

The flat statement cuts. It hurt when I realized she never reciprocated my feelings ten years ago, but being told right to my face raises the pain to a whole new level. I hate it that she makes me feel this way.

Well, who cares if she doesn’t like me? She still craves my body .

I want to feel her clench around me, climaxing from my touch. I unbuckle my belt, then push down my pants and underwear. I shove at her skirt and slip a finger past the thin fabric of her thong, almost groaning at how slick she is.

“Your mouth might hate me, but your pussy loves me.” I dip a finger into the opening, getting her juices on my finger. Her own fingers flex, but she doesn’t move away. I glide the pad of my thumb over her clit. Her eyes start to flutter closed.

I tap her clit twice, eliciting a sharp gasp. “Look who’s making you feel good.”

Her eyes blink open, glazed with rising pleasure.

“Tell me you want me,” I command, watching her flush with need.

Her teeth dig into her lip.

“Oh, I forgot, your mouth doesn’t want me.”

I push three fingers into her. Her back bows, her chest shuddering.

Using my free hand, I undo the belt and buttons of her trench coat and shove it off her shoulders.

The arch of her spine pushes her pretty tits against the fabric of her shirt.

I cup her breast and run my thumb back and forth across the nipple.

Her pelvis moves to the rhythm of my plunging fingers, bliss unfurling over her beautiful face.

I watch her expression break, her lips part, as she struggles to breathe. A glimmer of triumph shimmers in my veins. She can claim that she dislikes me, how I’m all wrong for her, but her body knows better.

My dick grows impossibly hard. Her cream drenches my shaft. The urge to shove into her tight depths is strong, but I resist the base desire.

I remove my hand from between our bodies. She moans in protest. I lay my cock along her folds and rock against the slick channel. The tip of my penis bumps against her throbbing clit with each glide. Her fingers dig deeper into my shoulders as she grinds her hips against me, writhing shamelessly.

I move faster and harder, holding her close, our bodies pressed tightly against each other. Somehow the act of doing it on a couch with just enough body parts exposed for sex feels lewder and more illicit than being naked. The ceiling lights shine on her face as her tension builds.

She throws her head back as she catapults into climax. Her flesh spasms along my shaft, and I can’t hold back. I come, the thick white fluid spurting against her. My cum mixing with her slick juice is a sight to behold.

We lie together for a moment, recovering. Then I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom. That was just a small taste. Time for the main course…and to prove to her how much her body wants mine.