Page 14
talie
Sitting on one of the barstools, I took another sip of my red wine before setting the long-stemmed glass back on the granite island.
My foot was bouncing, and I kept impatiently shooting glances at the front door.
I’d finally read Damian’s text stating that I had to go to a dinner with him tonight.
Then later he sent me another message when he was on his way, telling me I should get ready.
I wasn’t going to the damn dinner. But I decided to tell him nicely first before fighting about it.
I glanced at the closet, a laugh bubbling from me. I couldn’t even imagine how he would react to what I did. Oh well . He thought he could control me? Clearly, he had a lesson to learn.
I straightened up, hearing the door click when it was unlocked. A second later it swung open, and Damian strode in, only to freeze when he saw me at the island. When his gaze raked down my body, I let the robe slip off my shoulder, watching heat flare in his eyes.
“You like it?” I asked, standing up and doing a little twirl. “I figured this would be what you wanted me to wear since you bought it.”
The silk robe was a rich purple, and the lingerie I was wearing was black.
It was a one-piece outfit that fit me perfectly.
The whole thing was only a couple straps of fabric with just enough to cover my breasts and pussy.
The back was a thong, putting my entire ass on display, which he wouldn’t see unless I took off the robe.
He chuckled, raising his eyes to mine. “You can’t wear that to dinner.”
“I thought you wanted me to model the lingerie for you?”
“We don’t have time right now.” He backed up a couple steps as if purposely trying to create more space between us. “Go get changed.”
“I don’t want to go,” I told him, trying the pleasant approach first. “I’m not an employee you can order around.”
“No, you’re my wife,” he countered. “This is expected, and you know it.”
I grabbed my glass of wine before sauntering toward him, watching suspicion build on his face. “This isn’t going to work—oh, shit.”
I pretended to trip, falling into him. Like I expected, he caught me, but at the same time, my wine spilled all down his shirt and onto his slacks. He muttered a curse, but didn’t let me go until I pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry.” I feigned concern as he glanced down at his ruined suit.
His eyes cut to mine. “You did that on purpose, Natalia.”
I scoffed as I moved to set the glass on the counter. “Why would I spill wine on you?”
“To make us late for dinner.”
I turned around to see his jacket already off, and he was stripping off his shirt. I couldn’t stop myself from looking, dirty scenarios flooding my mind like they’d been since I’d seen him naked in the shower. Why did my asshole husband have to be so damn hot?
“Twenty minutes,” he grumbled. “Get dressed.”
He stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
I nearly snorted, trying to hold in my laugh.
He wouldn’t be going to the dinner either, he just didn’t know it yet.
I heard the shower turn on, and I took time to pour another glass of wine.
After taking a couple sips, I grabbed a pillow from the bed, bringing it to the couch.
The blanket I’d used last night was folded, draped across the back of the couch, and I spread it out before sitting down.
Grabbing the TV remote, I made myself comfortable before finding a show to watch. Not that I was paying attention to the screen while I waited for the sound of the water to shut off. I finished my wine, setting the glass on the coffee table.
My stomach flipped when the water cut off, and I glanced at the bathroom door, wondering if this was going to piss him off worse than I planned. Too late to take it back now.
A minute later, Damian exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He spared me an annoyed glance before disappearing into the walk-in closet. I bit my lip, silently counting. He let out a yell before I got to five.
“Talie, what the fuck did you do with my clothes?” he bellowed, crossing the room before I even had a chance to get off the couch.
He stood in front of me, and I stayed sitting, flicking my gaze toward him lazily. “What do you mean?”
“My closet is completely empty,” he hissed. “Every single article of my clothing is gone.”
“No, not every single thing.”
He glared at me. “Excuse me?”
“Your boxers are still in there. And your briefs.” I grinned mockingly. “What can I say? I like you being exposed for me.”
My words were the same ones he’d said last week when I found out he only bought me lingerie. From the way his jaw ticked, he remembered too.
“Where are my clothes?” he asked in a low voice.
I didn’t say a word, my amused smile widening as he looked like he was about to lose his shit. Char had come to help me, and we’d barely gotten all his clothes out before he came home. The rush was worth it to see his reaction. He was practically seething.
I leaned back on the plush cushion, shrugging. “Hm. Looks like we can’t make dinner if you don’t have any clothes.”
“This was an important dinner. For business.”
“Then you should have gone by yourself,” I shot back. “I’m not part of your business. Unless it has to do with our families, then count me out.”
His eyes lit with a devious glint, and I didn’t have time to move before he suddenly leaned down, pressing his hands into the cushion on either side of my head, caging me in.
I lifted my chin defiantly, realizing my mistake a second later when he dropped his head until his lips were a breath away from mine.
“ You are my business.” His low voice had a thrill ripping down my spine. “Don’t play games you can’t win, Talie. These little pranks will only get bigger, and I promise you won’t beat me.”
I smiled. “You can’t promise that. You have no idea how good I’ve gotten at games in the last five years. And you don’t want to find out. If you leave me alone unless we need to play nice for our families, then we won’t have a problem.”
“Not happening,” he said, his lips nearly brushing mine. “You knew what was expected of you when we married. Being part of family business and all.”
“No,” I growled stubbornly. “I won’t be a part of it.”
His eyes darkened with mischief before he pushed off the couch to stand back up. “You will.”
With that, he strode away, readjusting his towel before going back into the closet.
My pulse thudded, wondering what the hell he was up to.
He reappeared, wearing only a tight pair of black briefs, and I watched him as he went back into the bathroom.
Shit, maybe this was a mistake. Seeing him in practically nothing was kicking my hormones into overdrive.
I could hate him all I wanted, but it didn’t stop me from appreciating how hot he was.
“I can’t make it.” His phone was to his ear when he came back out of the bathroom, his shoulders stiff with tension. “Sorry, Dad. Something came up. I’ll reschedule the dinner?—”
He stopped talking abruptly, pulling the phone down so he could look at the screen. With a frown, he tossed the phone on the counter, and I shifted on the couch. Fuck me for having a tinge of guilt. I knew how it was to piss off our parents. This dinner was his father’s choice, not Damian’s.
He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, pouring himself some wine. My eyes tracked his movements before dropping to his hard abs when he turned around. The briefs outlined his entire dick, and I swallowed when he walked back to the couch. Without looking at me, he sat down on the opposite side.
“What are you watching?” he asked casually, staring at the screen.
“A cooking show,” I said slowly. No way he was going to forget I stole all his clothes. His relaxed demeanor was putting me on edge even more than when he was pissed.
All he did was nod. I stared at him, nonplussed, while he stayed focused on the TV. He didn’t look at me once, and I decided silence was best. Leaning back, I tightened the robe around me, pretending to watch the show.
We sat in silence through three episodes, and I only got up to drink a couple more glasses of wine.
It wasn’t like there was anything else to do in this studio apartment.
Nowhere to go to escape him. I hoped we went to his house in Connecticut soon.
I was sure it would have more space so we wouldn’t have to be right on top of each other.
Neither of us spoke a word the entire time. The tension was stifling, and I was waiting for him to go off about what I did. But it never came. He didn’t so much as look my way once.
About halfway into the fourth episode, my eyelids became heavy, and I jerked, trying to stay awake. Damian finally turned, glancing at me, his eyes never dipping below my face to my lingerie.
“Tired?” he drawled.
“Yes,” I answered, raising an eyebrow. “But you’re sitting on my bed.”
“You’re not sleeping on the couch.”
I straightened up. “I’m not sleeping in bed with you .”
“You kept me up all week, tossing and turning. That’s not happening anymore.” He reached for the remote, flicking off the TV, leaving the dim bulb above the stove as the only source of light.
“Fuck off,” I ground out. “I’m staying on the couch.”
He stood up, and I had no warning before he was in front of me, leaning down to throw me over his shoulder. I let out a shriek, my palms slapping his bare back as I tried pushing myself up as he crossed the room.
“Damian,” I screamed when he tossed me on the bed.
“You took my clothes. I’m putting you in my bed.”
I gaped at him as he went back to grab the pillow and blanket, throwing it on the mattress next to me.
“I’m going to go back on the couch,” I informed him.
“No, you won’t.”
He took the bottle of wine off the island, popping off the cork as he headed back to the couch. I narrowed my eyes. He was not going to—I sucked in a breath when he tilted the bottle, pouring it all over the white fabric.
“What the hell did you do?” I jumped from the bed, stomping closer to see the stained cloth for myself.
He emptied the bottle before throwing it onto the cushion. “Get back in bed, Talie.”
“You ruined your own couch. Do you feel better now?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You’ll have to buy another one.”
“I don’t use it much. I’ll be fine without one.”
“Are you serious?” I sputtered.
He reached for me, grabbing my arm and tugging me closer before sweeping me up in his arms bridal style.
My struggles did nothing while he took me back to the bed, tossing me on the mattress again.
Before I could try to get up, he landed on top of me, pinning me down, and grabbing my wrists to keep me still.
“Look at us,” he murmured, straddling my hips as he stared down at me. “Like a real married couple. You in that delicious outfit, squirming under me. Is that why you stole my clothes? You wanted to see me like this?”
“No,” I answered, my voice lacking the vigor I wanted. “Get off me.”
“Stay in the bed, Natalia.”
“Or what?”
“I’ll tie you to these bedposts.” His grip tightened on my wrists when I tried bucking him off. “I’ll keep you right where I want you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. And I have a feeling you’d enjoy it.”
“Watch it, Damian,” I warned, ignoring the heat coiling in my stomach.
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to my cheek before whispering in my ear. “Don’t play with me unless you’re willing to play dirty, Natalia.”
He rolled off me, leaving me breathing heavily as I stared at the ceiling. After a few moments, I turned to glare at him, but his back was to me. His toned, tatted back. I shook my head, internally cursing myself. Sitting up, I ripped off my robe before grabbing the blanket, pulling it over me.
“Asshole,” I breathed out before turning my back to him.
“Goodnight, Talie.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
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- Page 8
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- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14 (Reading here)
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
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- Page 26
- Page 27
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- Page 47
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- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58