by J. C. Grant
I loved it.
And the décor to the interior was beyond anything I had imagined. It was elegant, dark, and sexy, at least I thought so.
“What do you think?” I asked, trying to dampen my excitement.
“If you like it, I like it.”
I kind of hated his answer.
“I think it's sexy.”
He looked at me, his eyes shifting to a heated gaze, and growled, “Then I fucking love it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
We were sitting in David's office after our first hard workout since the stitches, and both of our phones chimed, alerting us to a text.
Elaine PR: He released your names.
Don't talk to anyone about
it. NOT A WORD.
10:45 AM
“Great,” I grumbled.
“It'll be fine. He hasn't pressed charges. He just wants the attention,” David assured me.
Grabbing my laptop, I laid on the couch with Chance, trying to get some writing done while David worked. I didn’t know how long I stared at the screen worrying about Zach and his need for publicity, and Kelsey and her need for... something, getting nothing accomplished.
“Ready to go?” David's voice cut through my random thoughts.
“Ah, yeah.” I closed the laptop.
I didn't remember getting in the car or the drive to Little Dom's—the eatery that we were sitting in front of.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, looking around. This was my area of town, not his.
“I'm starving and I think you mentioned something about getting out of the house more.”
Right.
That was before everyone knew about Zach and the face bashing that took place.
David got out and came around to my side of the truck, opening my door first, then Chance's. That's when I noticed David was wearing his black hat. When I didn't immediately move to get out, David leaned in, blocking the door.
“Hey, you'll feel better after you eat.” His tone shifted. “And after you tell me what's wrong. Now get outta the truck.”
I didn't respond.
He watched me, then his mouth and jaw relaxed and he leaned in, capturing my lips in the sweetest kiss. Pulling back and grabbing my hand, he encouraged me to get out. I quickly dug a pair of oversized, black sunglasses out of my purse and slipped them on as he led us to an outdoor table, quickly arranging the chairs at an angle to give us privacy.
I didn't know what that was about.
We hadn't spoken about Dawn and her psych hold, or when it would be up, and I wasn't going to bring it up now.
I was suddenly self-conscious sitting in my crop yoga pants and a too-thin tee. I looked over, taking in David's attire. He wore sweats and a lightweight hoody over his tank. He had obviously changed at the gym and I was too zoned out to notice.
The waitress approached and David ordered for us.
“Be right back.” She seemed happy to do her job, and she didn't seem impressed with David, which made me relax significantly.
“So,” David started, keeping his voice low. “What's wrong?”
“Ah... I don't know.” I didn't want to make a big deal about Zach or Kelsey and why I wasn't getting anything accomplished with my writing. I felt like we were waiting for the other shoe to fall, even though everything between us had been going great. I couldn't shake the feeling that Zach was about to change that.
The waitress returned, delivering our waters, when we heard, “David. Are you going to forgive your wife for cheating with Zach Stone?”
I felt David's muscles stiffen minutely. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer.
Then his lips were at my ear. “Don't turn around. Just ignore him.”
“What did Zach say? That I was having sex with him?” I whispered, horrified.
“I don't know,” he muttered.
I pulled my phone out of my purse and texted Elaine.
Austin: Did Zach say we were
having sex?
2:25 PM
Elaine PR: He's hinted at it.
2:28 PM
“Austin, let it go,” he beseeched. “If I find out he's telling people you were fucking... I will end up in jail.”
“Okay,” I relented.
The idea of the story he was spinning was eating me up, but after witnessing what David was capable of, I wouldn't risk it. A second incident would definitely result in charges.
“Here.” He pulled away and took off his hoody. “Put this on.” From his tone it was clear the paparazzo was taking pictures.
I quickly did, then leaned back into his side. His arm closed around me, tucking me to him.
“Miss James, do you know your marriage is fake?”
I looked at David as his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. The man continued, clearly trying to goad David into an altercation.
“I'll have that taken care of,” the waitress whispered as she delivered our salads.
David gave her a thankful smile as he attempted to ignore the shouted questions of the man—who was careful to stay across the street on public property.
The waitress returned with our entrees the same time a patrol car pulled up. Once the police ran the man off, we enjoyed the rest of our lunch.
We drove home in silence, neither of us wanting to talk about the things the cretin had mentioned. When he pulled into the drive, I wasn't feeling any better about anything. I went straight to our bathroom and stripped, getting in the shower and letting the warm water wash away some of my stress.
A few short minutes later, David's hard body was behind me, pressing against mine.
“We are legally married, sweet girl,” he whispered, trying to comfort me. His hands smoothed down my arms, helping me relax. Then he grabbed my soap and loofah.
“We both know what happened that day. He just wants to start something. He wants us to respond.”
He meticulously washed my body, making sure every inch of me was clean. Then he focused on my hair, taking his time massaging my scalp. Backing me under the water, he rinsed me clean as he pressed his hard length into my belly, his pecs jumping, bumping into my jaw as his fingers combed through my hair. He quickly washed himself and rinsed off. I was more than a little surprised when he turned off the shower without trying to start anything. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me, drying me before scooping me up and carrying me to bed. Again, not bothering with a towel for himself.
He laid me in bed and left the room only to return with waters. I noticed then Chance was in his own bed. I was a little disappointed with that. I enjoyed having his big body pressed to mine. His heavy breaths kept me company whenever David wasn't with me.
David sat at the end of the bed, his hands diving under the covers, finding my feet.
“I'll always give you what you need,” he answered my questioning expression. “You don't need sex right now. You need a serious massage.”
He started with my feet, and the tension slowly slipped from my body with each press of his fingers. It felt so good I didn't know what to do with myself as my body slowly melted into the mattress. He worked his way up my calf before switching to the other. I was almost asleep when he moved to my hands, working his way up.
I didn’t know if he ever got to the other arm.
*****
I remembered my legs being nudged open wide, and then a weight settling on me. A devastating arousal burned through me. My sole focus had been getting more of that sensation.
“Did we have sex last night?” I asked between sipping my coffee and staring at my too-sexy husband.
His eyebrow lifted and he nodded with a cocky smirk on his face.
“I love it like that,” I whispered almost whimsically.
“I know.” He was implying something more, but I didn't have a clue what.
We went through our morning ritual, and then I headed to the living room while David went up to his office. I was still sitting on the couch writing when I heard David come in throug
h the garage.
“Where did you go?” I asked, still focused on my screen.
“I went to the store and by the post office.” His voice conveyed his confusion then shifted to somewhere between matter-of-fact and annoyed. “I told you when I left. Asked you to come with me. Asked if you wanted anything. You said no. To everything.”
“What did you get?” I questioned, unable to remember him speaking to me at all.
“Water. I told you we needed more water,” he said absently as he sat things on the counter.
“You didn't get me any ice cream?” I asked, hopeful he would go back without me having to ask.
“Ya know, you're lucky your husband loves you so fucking much and knows you well enough to get you some, huh?”
“Thank you, babe.” I never stopped typing and I never looked away from my screen. The subtle noises coming from David in the kitchen stopped.
“Austin, you've been writing for hours. I need you to stop writing and actually be with me... Austin, look at me.”
I turned, our gazes locking. He wasn't mad, just a little sad or maybe he looked lonely, almost like he'd been shut out of something, which I guess for a time he had.
“Sorry, babe.”
“I need my wife to spend more time with me.”
I saved my work and shut my laptop, setting it on the ottoman.
“Okay. I'm all yours, Mr. Taylor,” I said as I got up and made my way to the kitchen.
“That's the way I like it,” he muttered as I leaned up on tiptoes to kiss him. He pulled back, teasing me with a glare for half a second before leaning down and catching my lips in a lush kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes met mine for a long moment. I was awed by how much love I saw there.
“We got our first mail as Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” He held up a large envelope in his right hand and I noticed all the swelling was gone. He still had a couple more weeks before the stitches could come out, though.
“Oh, this is for an event, isn't it?”
“Yeah, looks like it's for the Casamigos Halloween party.”
“Really?” I didn't wait for a response as I tore it open, pulling the invitation out.
“So I guess we're going?” he laughed.
“Yes!” My voice conveyed how ridiculous that question was. “It's in...”
“Three weeks,” David responded. “Need to get costumes.”
“Do you always go?”
“Never gone.” He shook his head, putting the groceries away. He got a lot more than just water and ice cream. “But it's our first Mr. and Mrs. mail. So I guess I'm going this year.”
I squealed, running to my office with the invitation, and started searching for costume places. I quickly discovered what I wanted and a place in LA to get it. It was expensive, but it would be so worth it. David opened the office door just as I was getting up.
“You done?” he asked with his hands behind his back. “You find us something?”
“Yeah,” I answered suspiciously. He was up to something; I could feel it.
I walked past him and into the living area.
“You want some ice cream?”
“Yeah, what kind did you get?” I asked, still wary.
“Really?” He sounded offended. “I got our favorites. Mint chocolate chip and cookies and cream. What else would I get?”
“Best husband ever,” I said, sitting on the couch.
He walked back over toward me, tossing me a plastic bag. I opened it and found black material, a lot of black material.
“What's this?”
“Look,” he tossed over his shoulder as he went back to the kitchen.
I pulled the material out and held it up. It was a tank top. I couldn't stop the smile that broke out on my face. Across the front it said Property of David Taylor in bold silver print.
“I thought you needed a replacement for the two I ripped up,” he called out, standing at the kitchen island.
I dumped the bag out on the couch. There were two more tanks, ‘David Taylor's Sweet Girl’ on one and ‘Mrs. David Taylor’ on the other, and three pairs of panties. Thong, boy shorts, and bikini style, all had Property of David Taylor on them.
I had to admit, it was super cute. And overbearing, but the material was divine.
“Go put them on,” he bossed, scooping the ice cream into bowls.
He was being too much, but I loved it.
*****
By Friday morning, I was looking forward to my fitting and to getting a little space from David. The constant togetherness since we got married had started to wear on me. I was pretty sure it was just because I wasn't used to being with anyone around the clock. But I had done it with my mom, I could get used to it with David.
I knew I was struggling when I started looking forward to my bi-weekly colonics a bit too much, just to be alone, just to get a little time to be me—even if it was with a hose up my ass. I was still afraid I was losing myself in him, becoming some twisted version of me.
As if I'm not warped enough.
I was positive David had noticed—between my eagerness to go to my colon-hydrotherapy appointments and my dwindling enthusiasm about our morning routine, but he'd said nothing; he just watched me closely.
Zach hadn't text me since he met David at my house. They never properly introduced themselves, but it was definitely a meeting none of us would forget. So I was more than surprised when I got his text, exactly two weeks after the incident occurred.
Zach: I need to see you. Without
him. Today.
10:05 AM
Yeah, I bet.
David was talking to one of the employees out front. I knew he'd read the text sooner or later, but I responded anyway.
Austin: I can't. We don't have
anything to talk about
10:08 AM
Zach: Meet me today, Austin.
10:10 AM
I ignored him.
Zach: Meet me today. Or I'll press
charges against him. Felony
assault and battery.
10:14 AM
Fuck.
Taking a long deep breath, I blew it out roughly. This was the falling shoe I had been waiting for. I knew David would never agree to let me go, regardless of Zach pressing charges. But the thought of David being in serious trouble…. All my annoyance with David fled, replaced by a strong protective instinct.
Austin: Where?
10:22 AM
Zach: My house.
10:23 AM
Fuck no.
Austin: Public place.
10:24 AM
Zach: Polo Lounge 12
10:25 AM
Austin: 11:30
10:26 AM
I drove separately because of my fitting, but I was going to have to get someone to distract David long enough for me to get out of here. I grabbed some clothes out of the coat closet—that was now full of our clothes. I tossed on some ripped jeans and a gray, fitted, V-neck tee. I slipped on some flip-flops and called the front desk.
“Hello?” Kelly answered.
“Hi, Kelly. It's me, Austin. Is David up there?”
“Yeah.” She sounded confused. “Did you need him?”
“What is he doing?”
“Ummm. Right now he is talking to Kyle Dixon,” she whispered.
“Is he standing near the front desk?”
“Ummm. Not really. I can't hear them or anything.”
But she could see them.
“Could you tell him that someone said the mirror in the yoga room was damaged earlier?”
“It was?”
She was too sweet.
“Yeah. He really needs to check it. It could be a hazard.”
“Yeah, of course.”
I hung up, grabbed my purse, and opened the door to the office, peeking out. Kelly stood from the desk and walked away. I made my way over, until I could see Kelly and the side of David's arm. Once I saw him move away and Kelly walking back to the desk, what I was doing settled in.
He's going to kill me.
Fearing David catching me, like a teen sneaking out, I nearly ran out of the building, my heart racing and adrenaline pumping through me as I went to my car, not waiting for the valet. I just needed some time to talk to Zach without David around. David would be pissed, but I was ending this. I drove to the Beverly Hills Hotel still scared of David's reaction.
David
I knew something was going on as soon as I saw the undamaged mirror in the yoga room. Heading back to my office, I knew before I got there she was gone. I still had a half-second of panic at finding it empty, feeling for the briefest moment that she had run away. I knew she was overwhelmed by being together all the time, but I was watching her, gaging her reactions, weighing how much she could handle. She needed to get used to being with me all the time.
I called Austin, knowing I wouldn't get an answer. I pulled up the tracker on her phone, then her car. They were both in the same place, heading toward Sunset. I knew she had an appointment today, but…
I pulled up her phone's calls and texts. It only took one click and I knew immediately what she was doing.
I was going to fucking kill Zach.
Little fucker's blackmailing her into seeing him.
I called Fergus.
“She's meeting Zach Stone at the Polo Lounge,” I told him as I kicked my shoes off.
“I'll head over there and find out what's going on.”
“I know what's going on. He's trying to steal my wife for publicity!” my voice thundered. I yanked the string on my shorts, letting them fall to the floor.
“I know that, but you need to calm down,” Fergus tried to reason with me. “You can't kick the shit out of him in a public place.”
He was right. I knew he was, but that's all I wanted to do. That's all I wanted to do to anyone trying to come between us.