Page 40 of Wicked Games

“Hey, make sure my wife isn’t wearing anything too short… or too low cut… or fucking backless,” he growls and I laugh, shaking my head.

“Fuck no, dude. I am not going into the middle of that war zone and telling your old lady what she can or can’t wear. If she didn’t kill me, Tate definitely would.”

He scoffs. “Pussy.”

“Asshole.”

“You planning on packing tonight? Just in case?” he asks and I glance up at the sign on the wall that doubles as a gun safe. I usually don’t have a reason to carry but there is no way in hell I’m letting us all go out without bringing my piece along.

“Yeah. I think we all are.”

“Well,” he mutters. “I guess it will be interesting. See y’all soon.”

After we say good-bye, I set my phone back down on the desk and lean back in my chair as I scrub a hand over my face. Honestly, going out tonight is a terrible fucking idea, like we’re waving a red flag at an angry bull, but it also feels like exactly what I need. I’m so goddamn stressed out by all of this and I deserve a few hours to let loose, a few hours to not think about Warren and his plan for us.

“Knock, knock.”

I glance up as Rowan walks into my room, shutting the door behind her and when she turns back to me, I swallow back a groan. Fuck, why the hell does she always have to look so fucking good? Dragging my gaze down her body, I take in the tight gold dress she has on that hits her mid-thigh and I think about how easy it would be to pull it up over her ass and slip inside her. It has cutouts all the way up her body on both sides, revealing tanned skin and my hands ache to touch her.

“Are you trying to give me a coronary?”

She smiles and it lights up her whole face. Jesus, she’s gorgeous and I don’t just mean her body, although that is spectacular but it’s deeper than that. It’s the way her eyes sparkle with this playfulness that makes you want to dive in, consequences be damned, and the way she has the nerves of a virgin and the confidence of a bombshell at the same time, this perfect mixture of contradictions that I can’t quite figure out.

“Is it that good?” she asks and I drag my thoughts back to her dress. Is it that good? Hell fucking yes, it is but she looks just as good in a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“Definitely.” I hold my hand out to her and she walks over to me before climbing on my lap and straddling my legs. I drag my hands up her thighs and take a deep, cleansing breath. Fuck. She is magic. “Have you gotten this approved by your brother yet?”

Scowling, she smacks my chest and I can’t help but laugh. “Fuck you. I’m a grown woman and I can wear whatever the hell I want.”

“I think Kodiak would disagree.”

“Lincoln can shove it right up his ass. He doesn’t tell me what to do,” she snaps and I laugh again at her cute little scowl as she glares at my door like Kodiak is standing on the other side. She turns, staring daggers at me but it only makes me laugh harder and her lips twitch. “Stop it. Let me be mad at you.”

I shake my head. “Can’t. Now, come here and kiss me.”

Sighing, she practically melts on my lap, despite the furrow of her brow, and leans in to press her lips to mine as she presses her hands to my chest. I grab her ass, pulling her closer with one hand as I cup her cheek with the other and flick my tongue against her bottom lip. They part in an instant and she moans into the kiss as her fingers grip my t-shirt. All of my stress, all of the shit I work so hard to forget but never really do just melts away with her touch and I’m just a guy, kissing a girl that sets his world on fire. For the first time in a long time, I feel like myself. There is no hiding, there is no mask, there is just us and it’s all because of her.

“You should start getting ready,” she whispers before stealing a few more kisses and when she pulls away, I groan.

“Come back.”

She shakes her head, her smile bright. “I’m serious. We’re all almost ready. You need to get dressed.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I ask, glancing down at my jeans and t-shirt and she rolls her eyes as she climbs off of my lap.

“You’re really going to go out with me, looking like this,” she replies, motioning to her body. “Dressed like that.”

I arch a brow. “Am I going out with you? What about your brother?”

“I don’t give a fuck tonight. We’ve been under a shit ton of stress and I want to have fun with you… so you can’t be dressed like that.”

“Fine,” I shoot back with a laugh as I stand up and walk over to my closet. Honestly, I don’t really care what I wear but if it will make her happy, I’ll change. “Are you going to pick it out for me?”

“Absolutely not. You’re a big boy.”

“Nice of you to notice,” I say, wagging my eyebrows before winking at her and she scoffs as she rolls her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“Oh my God, men,” she groans playfully, giving me a little shove before walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge as I start riffling through the closet. “The black one.”