The Wolf and His Wife

by Penelope Sky

  “Give it to me, Wolf.” I wanted him to combust in a fiery explosion the way I did, to receive an enormous reward for all the work he’d just done. I wanted his body to go haywire, for his hips to buck automatically as the pleasure burst in every single vein. The only thing I wished was that there was nothing between us, that he would fill me with all the come that was about to go into that condom.

  He rested his head against mine as he finished, as he grunted through the pleasure that made his back tighten. His dick thickened inside me, and he shuddered as the euphoria came to an end. He slowly softened on top of me, filling the condom and turning limp soon afterward. His face rested in my neck, and we breathed as our sweat smeared against each other’s bodies.

  My fingers moved into his hair and gently caressed the strands as I still felt him between my legs. I loved his weight on top of me, like a suit of armor that would deflect any bullet directed at me.

  He finally got off and went into the bathroom to clean off.

  I was still warm and sweaty, so I lay with the sheets kicked off, the moisture slowly evaporating from my skin.

  He returned moments later, cold water splashed across his face. He turned off the lamp and got into bed beside me, sticking to his side because he was probably still hot. The dark surrounded us, enveloped us.

  The shadows acting as a curtain, I tried to hide behind them as much as possible. “There’s something I have to tell you…” I focused my gaze on the ceiling so I wouldn’t have to see the anger corroding his face.

  “What’s your secret?”

  “It’s gonna make you angry.”

  He sighed in the darkness, his anger slowly replacing the sexy ambiance we’d just had a moment ago. “At least you’re getting me prepared.”

  “I asked your sister to bring your father to the rehab center so I could talk to him. He was sitting in the dining room when I surprised him. I sat down, and we had a long chat…”

  Maverick didn’t give any reaction to what I said, but the silence was so damn loud. He could express so much disdain with so little effort. His anger made the temperature of the room rise a few degrees, slowly getting hotter until we both started to boil. He turned on his side and propped himself up, looking down at me with an expression that was more lethal than a bullet. “You went behind my back…again?”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No, that’s exactly what it was like.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to. His anger was potent. “After all this time, do you really not understand how dangerous my father is? What he could have done to you?”

  “He wasn’t armed—”

  “He doesn’t need to be armed to kill you. His bare hands are more than enough.”

  In hindsight, it did feel stupid…especially with everything else that followed. “I tried to repair your relationship with him. I told him how sorry I was about his wife… I told him you wanted to have a better relationship with him.”

  Maverick rolled his eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing you could have said to him.”

  “Yeah, I realize that now.”

  “He doesn’t give a shit about that. All he cares about is what he wants—which is killing you.”

  Obviously.

  “You provoked him, and his response was to tattle on me to Kamikaze. I won’t hand you over, so he’s letting that psychopath do his dirty work. This is why you don’t do shit without my authorization.” He got out of bed and gripped his skull. “You think you know better, but you don’t know a damn thing—”

  “That’s not why I did it. I just wanted you to get your father back—”

  “And that’s never going to happen. I know that better than anyone.” He opened the bedroom door. “Get out, Arwen.”

  I sat up in bed, shocked that he wanted me to leave when I was buck naked and still sweaty.

  He kept his hand on the door. “Go.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t give a shit. You went behind my back a second time—”

  “I was trying to help—”

  “You trying to help is going to get you raped and me killed.” He grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me out of bed. “With all the shit I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? You do realize that I would die for you, right?”

  I faced him as the tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

  “That’s not enough. An apology is just an admission of wrongdoing.”

  “That’s not what my apology means. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to help you—”

  “Get out.” He dropped his chin and stared at the floor, like he didn’t want to look at me a second longer.

  I didn’t step into the hallway. This bedroom was my sanctuary. This man was my protector. My bedroom was all the way on the other side of the house, and that was too far. “Please let me stay with you… You’re the only reason I can sleep at night.”

  With one hand on his hip, he continued to stand there and look down at the ground. His chest rose and fell with his deep breathing because he was continuing to combat the rage.

  I stayed put. “I don’t want to leave you… Don’t make me go.”

  Something I said must have changed his mind because he shut the door. Without looking at me, he walked back to bed. His heavy body fell on the sheets, and he lay there, his eyes on the ceiling.

  I returned to bed and gave him his space. I wanted to cuddle into his side and apologize again, but I knew he didn’t want to hear it. The only reason he’d let me stay was because I practically begged.

  He didn’t have the heart to kick me out when he knew I was scared.

  I turned on my side and looked at him, knowing he would never meet my gaze. “I thought if I put your family back together…you would be happy.”

  He was quiet. With his eyes on the ceiling and a still body, he seemed oblivious to what I said. “The only way you can put my family back together is if you bring my mother back from the dead. My father only cares about her, not the rest of us.”

  It seemed that way, but I couldn’t believe that was really true.

  “I’m trying to keep the promise I made to your father. But if you keep undermining me, that’s never going to happen. You say we’re a team, but you never act like it. You take matters into your own hands like you have some master plan that’s going to save us all. You’re just a stupid girl who doesn’t understand a goddamn thing. Know your place.”

  Those words stung because I’d heard them before—from his father’s lips. In his anger, he was just like the man who raised him. They possessed the same heartless coldness, the same harshness. “Maverick.” I reached across the bed and rested my fingertips against his arm. “I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but something is different between us. There’s something here, a bond deeper than friendship and desire. We care about each other very much, would easily take a bullet for each other. There’s been no other man in my bed because you’re the only person that I want…and I know you feel the same way.”

  “What’s your point?” he asked coldly.

  “My point is…I had good intentions. It doesn’t make it right. Doesn’t make me less ill-advised. But I was trying to help you, trying to take the most diplomatic approach. I was doing it for you…because you mean everything to me. I’ll never do anything behind your back again.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “But now I really mean it. You and I…we’re a team.” I rested my hand on his and hoped he would reciprocate my affection.

  But his hand lay there, lifeless.

  “It’s you and I…forever.” Now, I wasn’t married to his man because I had to be. I was married to him because I wanted to be. There was no other man I could picture spending my life with. No other man could compare to what I already had. I wanted Kamikaze to be killed and Caspian to disappear. With our enemies out of the way, it could just be us…together.

  When I least expected it, his fingers came to
life and squeezed my hand.

  And I squeezed his back.

  14

  Maverick

  I studied the way she held the gun. Her fingers gripped the handle, but she was so inexperienced that it was tilted slightly sideways. If she pulled the trigger, she would miss the target by several feet. “Like this.” I grabbed her wrist and righted it.

  “I’m not that bad, am I?”

  “When I walked into the apartment, you pointed that gun at me with the safety on. If I could tell, so could he.” I guided her fingers to hit the button and turn off the safety. “Always have this on when the gun is in your purse or on your hip. But don’t forget to turn it off the second you draw it.”

  She aimed the gun at the red target in the field. The cows were in the barn, so they wouldn’t run off and accidentally get hit.

  I grabbed her elbow and straightened her arm. “Use your other hand to support you.” I placed her other hand on the gun. I’d been using guns since I was fifteen years old, so it was so obvious to me when someone couldn’t handle one. “When you fire, there will be a bit of a kickback. Shoot.”

  She closed one eye and tried to aim closer in on her target, her shoulders tight and her posture rigid.

  I stepped back, already knowing the outcome before she even pulled the trigger.

  Her fingers squeezed the trigger—and she missed. The loud bang reverberated over the land of my estate, like an echo that could shatter eardrums. The cows started to moo in the barn, hearing the sound just as well as we could.

  I came back to her side. “Keep the gun steady. If you shake, the second you pull the trigger, you’re never going to hit anything.”

  “They make it look so easy in the movies…”

  “It is easy. You just have to know what you’re doing.” I helped her set up once more. “Again.” I stepped back.

  She aimed once more. This time, she hit the target—but at the very edge.

  I came back to her and tilted her head. “If you focus on the circle here, it’ll help you hit your mark.”

  “I never see you use it.”

  “When you get the hang of it, you don’t need it. Guns like these are used for close range. When a guy is standing right in front of you, you should be able to hit him without aiming.” I moved several feet behind her.

  She kept shooting, emptying the barrel as her bullets flew through the air. She finally hit the target every time—and even got a bull’s-eye.

  “Reload.” I came to her side and handed her the ammo.

  She grabbed the box and pointed the gun down to access the barrel.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “What?”

  I hit the button for the safety. “Always turn that on if you aren’t using it—especially when you’re loading ammo while the gun is pointed at your feet.”

  I was caught up at work, but I chose to sit in my office just to be out of the house.

  I was still pissed at my wife.

  Even if she meant well, she still tiptoed around behind my back. Nothing I hated more than a stupid person thinking they were smart. She was idiotic for thinking she could approach my father for a heartfelt one-on-one conversation.

  She really thought it would be that simple?

  I sat at my desk and enjoyed a cigar while I looked out the window. I’d trained Arwen to use a gun, and she was proficient enough to be able to kill someone who charged her at close range.

  At least she had a resource if I wasn’t around.

  I had every right to be upset and kick her out of my bedroom, but when she’d asked to stay, I couldn’t refuse.

  This woman made me so fucking soft.

  Maybe my father was right. I really was weak.

  It was embarrassing to have your wife fight your battles for you, to admit I had a broken heart and I missed the way my family used to be.

  Pussy shit.

  Of course, my father didn’t care.

  I leaned back in the leather chair and kept smoking, letting the nicotine calm my body. I still hadn’t figured out what to do about Kamikaze. Would I round up every man I had and provoke him into uncharted territory? That seemed stupid.

  But waiting for him to ambush me was stupider.

  There was a real possibility Kamikaze would kill me and Arwen would become a slave.

  Death wasn’t what I feared most—it was the latter.

  Kamikaze respected me, so he would make the kill clean. He would just shoot me in between the eyes and put me down. There would be no torture or humiliation. For a psychopath, he could be pragmatic at times. My fate would be far more bearable than what Arwen would have to suffer through.

  That was why I had to win.

  For her.

  But how did you defeat a man like him? We had become allies because it would be stupid to be enemies. Our Italian blood ran deep in the soil, back several generations. There was mutual respect for our culture. He did illegal shit; I did illegal shit. But we kept our mouths shut and looked the other way.

  But then Arwen’s father ruined all of that.

  This never would have happened if my father hadn’t forced me to marry her. We never would have met, so her fate wouldn’t have mattered to me. People were tortured and killed every day. It was irrelevant.

  But even if I could back in time and change things…I wouldn’t.

  “So much for working late.”

  I turned around and saw Arwen standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest with threat in her eyes. She glanced at the cigar sitting between my fingertips then looked at me with a promise of punishment.

  She sauntered into the room and approached my desk. In jeans and a t-shirt, she was prepared for the cool breeze outside the house. Fall was deepening, and now summer was just a memory.

  She snatched the cigar out of my hand. “What did we talk about?”

  “You’re going to berate me for smoking, but you’re the one who snuck behind my back and cornered my father?” I took the cigar back and placed it between my lips. “I’m the only thing standing between you and Kamikaze. If I want to smoke, I’ll fucking smoke.” I puffed heavily, refusing to participate in this husband and wife routine. She really did feel like the lady of the house.

  “If you want to live, you won’t.” She pulled the cigar out of my mouth and stabbed it in the ashtray.

  I had all the power in the relationship. I could backhand her across the face and kick her out of my office. I could do anything I wanted, and she would have no power to stop me. But I let her boss me around, let her take away my cigars like she owned me.

  “Keep drinking. But stop smoking.”

  “Life is short. If the smoke doesn’t kill me, something else will.”

  “And what if something else doesn’t?” she questioned. “I need you to live a long and healthy life.”

  “Why? With me gone, you would inherit an immense amount of wealth.”

  She tilted her head slightly, offended by that statement. “I would rather be poor with you by my side than live in that mansion alone.” Her sincerity was obvious in the tone of her voice, the way she held my gaze with hurt in her eyes.

  My father thought I was weak. My sister lived in a different reality. Arwen seemed to be the only person who cared about me for me—with all my good qualities and my flaws. It didn’t seem to matter what I did; her affection was unconditional.

  “No more smoking, Maverick. I mean it.” She opened the top drawer of my desk and found my stash of cigars. She grabbed them and dumped them in the scotch sitting beside me.

  I stared at the damage then looked back at her. “That’s €5,000 scotch.”

  “Then it really taught you a lesson.” She leaned toward me, gripping the back of my chair for support. “Don’t let me catch you smoking again. I promise you’ll regret it.”

  I stared into her eyes and watched the fire dance. When I got lost in the beauty of her face, I forgot how much she’d just pissed me off, how she’d destroyed
my cigars and my prized booze. All I could think about was the sexy curve of her bottom lip, the way I’d kissed it just the night before. This woman infuriated me, but she somehow earned my respect at the same time.

  She straightened and dropped her hand from the chair. “When are you coming home?”

  “When I finish my drink and cigar.”

  “Well, I took care of that.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Then I guess I’m coming home now.” I pushed the chair back and rose to my feet, my height towering over her petite size.

  She tilted her chin automatically to meet my gaze. Her long brown hair was a curtain around her shoulders, and her white t-shirt set off the beautiful color of her eyes. Even when she wasn’t in a ball gown singing her heart out to her admirers, she was still absolutely stunning.

  She planted her hand against my chest and rose onto her tiptoes, slowly bringing her lips to mine. When they came together, she gave me the softest kiss, her lips tasting like red wine. She closed her eyes while she enjoyed it, then pulled away.

  Kissing her felt natural. Kissing was usually the prelude to sex, but with Arwen, it wasn’t necessarily the prelude to anything. Sometimes, it happened…just to happen. And it felt good all on its own even if it didn’t develop into something more. It was about the affection, the connection.

  She pulled her hand away from my chest. “I hope you aren’t still mad at me.”

  “You know how stubborn I am.”

  “Yes…but I also know how forgiving you are.”

  “When have I ever been forgiving?”

  “You’ve forgiven me once. You let your father live because you still see the good in him…even if it’s not there. You’re a lot more compassionate than you give yourself credit for, Maverick.”

  I’d held that gun to his forehead, and I didn’t pull the trigger. That was a sign of weakness, not compassion. “That’s not a good thing.”

  She interlocked our fingers then guided me out of the office. “I disagree.”