The Red Wife

by Tyffani Clark Kemp

  “Brenda, what did you think was going to happen between us? Do I have to be mean for you to get it? You and I have sex. I take you to events for company. I brought you here this week because you wanted to come. I'm not completely heartless. But if you can't handle the fact that you are not and will not be the only woman in my life then you have no business being here.”

  Mariss' heart sank for some inexplicable reason at his words. She knew this about him, of course. Anyone who didn't was a fool. Still, she found herself hung up on the fact that Sebastian couldn't, or wouldn't, be faithful to just one woman.

  “I've told you before, Mariss is a no-go. Don't go there with me because you will find yourself upset and alone. Do you want me to put you on a plane home?”

  “You wouldn't.”

  “Oh, I would. I've done much nastier things to women who couldn't control their emotions.”

  Mariss blinked up at him and caught an emotion that looked a lot like regret pass over his features. What had he done to make him feel so deeply?

  Sebastian's hand tightened on her hip as if in reply to her thoughts. Mariss almost rested her head on his chest for comfort, but there was no need to make a bad situation worse.

  “You wouldn't send Mariss away,” Brenda sniffed.

  “No. Mariss would just leave.”

  She buried her face in Sebastian's chest to stifle her laughter.

  “Don't be rude, Red,” Sebastian chided.

  His hand loosened on her hip, but his thumb started a back and forth movement under the hem of her shirt that was both gentle and erotic. Something inside her started to hum and the vibrations sent shafts of need through her body.

  Mariss needed to be naked. She needed to be pressed against Sebastian's bare skin, feel his hands on her. Mostly, she needed Brenda to go away. Mariss was more than willing to do whatever he wanted right here in the kitchen of his mother's house.

  “You're a son of a bitch, Sebastian,” Brenda said indignantly.

  “Yes, I've been told. Now, if you're not going to have some pie, I'll see you in the morning.”

  “You mean you aren't even going to stay with me?”

  “Not tonight, I don't think.”

  Mariss held her breath. There was so much sexual and angry tension in the kitchen, she was afraid any movement might cause a combustion. Sebastian continued to rub her hip. He held himself tall, but he wasn't tense.

  “Fucking bitch,” Brenda muttered as she retreated. Mariss couldn't see her, but she heard her footsteps.

  Sebastian started to move, but Mariss pressed her hand to his chest. She leaned into him with her whole body to keep him in place.

  “Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal. I would have said a lot worse if I was in her shoes.”

  “You would have taken that knife of yours out and cut her.”

  Sebastian chuckled, but the tension in his voice proved he wasn't really joking.

  “I don't have my knife.”

  “No?” His eyes widened.

  She shook her head. “Nope. I gave it to Brit after what happened at your apartment the night we… I have no idea where it is. She probably pawned it. Got a few bucks for her wedding.”

  Sebastian chuckled again, and this time, the sound was cheerful. “Mariss, I'm afraid I can't constrain myself anymore. I'm going to take you now, right here. I hope you're okay with that. If not, you'd better get okay with it quickly.”

  There was nothing gentle or romantic about the way Sebastian shoved her shorts down. He entered her with little couth, and if she hadn't already been so ready, it might have hurt.

  Sebastian hung his head by her ear while he held her steady with one arm and hefted her leg with the other. Mariss braced herself on the counter. She thrust her hips into him, trying to take as much of him inside her as possible.

  “Harder, Bassy,” she urged.

  Sebastian grunted and slammed into her, throwing her back against the counter. She ignored the pain across her back as she hit the counter top.

  “God, Red.” Sebastian's voice was thick and strained as he claimed her body as his own.

  Mariss came quickly and Sebastian not long after that. Their need for each other was so great that it didn't take much for them right now. Mariss panted and chuckled as she tried to get her boy shorts back up.

  “What's so funny?” Sebastian asked. He too, was breathless.

  “I think there's pie on my foot,” she giggled.

  Sebastian laughed. “That's easily fixed.” He lifted her and carried her to the sink. Setting her on the counter, he put her foot in the sink and turned on the water.

  Mariss squealed as cold water ran over her foot, and clamped a hand over her mouther.

  “If you wake mother, there will be hell to pay.”

  “Too late for that,” an angry voice said from the other side of the kitchen as the lights came on again. “Don't make me separate you two.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Mariss and Sebastian said in unison, but Mariss couldn't keep her giggles quiet. Sebastian was thoroughly pussy-whipped by his mother.

  “If you make her come back in here she's likely to make me go to my flat,” he whispered.

  That only made Mariss giggle harder.

  Mariss opened her eyes to find herself in bed alone. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, an ache low in her belly made her cringe. They'd definitely hit it a little too hard last night. She gathered her things and went to the bathroom to shower.

  Mariss wasn't sure whether she was glad she and Sebastian were knocking boots or if she felt guilty that she hadn't waited longer after Holden's death.

  The fact of the matter was, Sebastian didn't want a monogamous relationship and Mariss couldn't handle anything but. Sebastian had said that there was no competition when it came to her, but last night he'd made a point to remind Brenda - and in doing so he'd reminded Mariss - that she wouldn't be the only woman in his life.

  She dressed quickly and found Sebastian at the kitchen bar with his phone to his ear. Even though he was talking in a hushed voice, Mariss knew he was frustrated.

  He must have heard her come in, because he hung up as she passed through the door.

  “Everything okay?” Mariss asked. She walked around the front of the island and took a drink from his coffee.

  “No. Apparently, all of my models have dropped out as of this morning. I hand picked the ones I had. I won't be able to find decent ones in the three days I have.”

  She frowned. “Why did they drop out?”

  Sebastian threw his hands in the air. “I have no bloody clue.”

  Mariss nodded. “What are you going to do?”

  “I'm going to make sure none of them ever work again.”

  “Right, and ensure that no one ever works for you again. I can help you. I have an idea.”

  Sebastian peered at her. “Really?” he was skeptical. “And what's that?”

  “Book a flight and get my girls here as fast as you can. I'm going to call my mom.” Mariss left the room to get her cell.

  “Mama,” she said when her mother answered. “I need your help. Will you fly to London if I get you a flight?”

  “Maybe,” her mother said. “What's in it for me?”

  Mariss smiled. She explained her plan to her mother and waited for her to say no.

  “Alright. Sounds like fun. I'll see you soon.”

  Her mother hung up, leaving Mariss to stare at her cell for a long moment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  THE MAN WITHOUT RULES

  By that evening, Sebastian was a complete wreck. Mariss watched him fidget and pace and snap at anyone who spoke to him, while she kept a huge grin on her face. By the time her mother and the girls from her office arrived, he was growling at everyone.

  “What's your plan, then?” Sebastian snapped before Mariss could even greet her mother.

  Mariss gestured dramatically at Brit and the others and said, “Meet your new models.”

  Sebastian bl
inked, some of the tension draining from his shoulders so they relaxed into his usual confident pose. She saw the wheels turning as he realized where she was going.

  “My clothes are for men,” he pointed out, unnecessarily.

  Mariss pulled her mother into a side hug. “That's what Mama is here for. She's the seamstress. She'll help tailor all of the clothes to fit us. Who else is going to have female models wearing a men's line?

  “You're not models,” he pointed out, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  Mariss frowned. “So? How hard can it be? You do it.” She smirked.

  Sebastian's eyebrow went up and his face became humored.

  “I'm a writer, Sebastian. I have an overactive imagination. This will work. Trust me, okay?”

  “I never said I didn't trust you.” Sebastian set his phone down and steepled his fingers against his lips. “I just don't see it working in my favor.”

  “Well, then sit back and shut up. I'll take care of it. Which would you rather have? No models or bad models? I mean, we can get away with being a little ridiculous because we're women modeling a men's line. I thought you were The Man Without Rules.”

  Sebastian gazed down at her and his eyes sparked with blue flame, burning up any humor she might have felt and replacing it with a searing desire that devoured her body and mind. The corner of his mouth turned up when he knew he'd done exactly what he set out to do, make her forget herself in front of her mother and colleagues.

  “I am The Man Without Rules,” he growled, “but how are you going to learn to walk the catwalk?”

  Mariss smirked. “From you of course.”

  Sebastian shook his head, but she knew she had him. It was exactly the kind of gimmick he would use to get and keep people's attention. Especially after someone had tried to make him fail, being over the top would only prove how amazing he was.

  “Alright,” he finally said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you walking too?” He nodded at Juliet.

  Mariss turned to look at her friend. Juliet shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, if Mariss needs me to.”

  Mariss giggled. “I guess we start with fitting the clothes,” Mariss shrugged.

  “Well, I don't have them here.” Sebastian looked at her like she was crazy.

  “Well, then get them here. Or take us to them.”

  “This one's thick, isn't he?” Mariss' mother said in German.

  “Stop it, Mama.” To Sebastian she said, “Which is easiest?”

  “Mindy.”

  “Yes, Mr. Boa.” The blonde slip of a girl stepped out of the back of the crowd. Mariss hadn't even known she was there.

  “Go to the studio and get the outfits, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  It was strange to hear another girl doing Juliet's job, and by the look on Juliet's face, she felt the same way.

  “Mama can get measurements while Mindy's gone.” Her mother huffed. Mariss rolled her eyes. This might turn out to be a longer night than she'd anticipated.

  Two hours later, Mariss sipped her one millionth cup of coffee that day and watched Sebastian pace back and forth through the hall that connected his part of the house with his mother's part of the house.

  “Why don't you play something,” she suggested and nodded to the piano. “Please?”

  Sebastian eyed her with suspicion. Stress stretched his mouth into a thin line.

  “I'd like my mother to hear you play,” she offered, “and you're making me nervous with all of your pacing.”

  “You'll give yourself indigestion, dear,” his mother said in passing as she and Katrina went to the kitchen.

  Mariss watched them walking together as if they were long lost sisters. They could barely understand anything the other said, but there was something kindred between them.

  “Well, they sure got on quickly,” Sebastian muttered, mirroring her own thoughts.

  Mariss stepped closer to him and looked up into his face. “Are you okay? Was this a bad idea?”

  “I don't know why it's taking Mindy so long to find the clothes,” he said. “It's not like I hid them. This isn't hide and seek.”

  Mariss laughed. “Calm down. It'll be fine. Play something to settle your nerves. I'm sure she'll be back in no time at all.”

  Sebastian grunted defiantly. He took her coffee from her and took a big swallow.

  “I think caffeine is the last thing you need right now,” she said as he handed the mostly empty mug back to her.

  “You've been drinking decaf all day,” he told her.

  “Well, no fucking wonder,” Mariss said softly with a smidge more respect for his devious mother.

  Sebastian pressed a kiss to her forehead and went to sit behind the grand piano. He rifled through some sheet music for a few moments before he found something satisfactory.

  As if possible, Sebastian's posture became straighter as he set his fingers to the keys and began to play a beautiful piece high on the treble end. Mariss listened to him play the difficult piece like it was second nature. He stared at the music, never looking down at his fingers. He made it look so easy for someone who didn't play very often. She wasn't sure he'd played once since the last time they were here almost a year before.

  Mariss caught sight of Brenda, her eyes locked on Sebastian's hands dancing over the keys. She stood beside him, watching transfixed, mesmerized. Mariss knew that feeling, had felt it when they'd played together.

  She let the music sooth her own frayed nerves. She sat on the sofa and watched his face over the piano. He was probably completely unaware that, when he played, he allowed his emotions to show. Peace danced across his face as his fingers glided effortlessly over the piano keys.

  When the song was over, Sebastian didn't look up, but rifled through his music once more.

  “Why don't you play more often?” Brenda asked. Her voice was soft the gentle awe. “You're so good.”

  Sebastian looked up, but he looked at Mariss. It was the briefest of glances, but there were so many unspoken things within it that Mariss had to look away.

  “I get bored with it,” he said. “It comes far too easily for me. If I played all the time it would lose its charm.”

  Just like everything else in his life, Mariss mused. Except for her, apparently.

  “You really are dense, May. You know that?” her mother said, coming up behind her. “If you can't see that the man is in love with you, I feel sorry for you.”

  “Have you stopped to consider that maybe I don't want him to be in love with me?” Mariss snapped back in German.

  Sebastian stopped what he was doing to look at her. He assessed the situation like he was trying to make sure her own mother wasn't a threat to her.

  “Liar,” Katrina continued. “What are you afraid of?”

  “You know good and well.” Mariss lowered her voice this time, but Sebastian's keen sense of everything wasn't fooled. He narrowed his eyes, never looking away. She shook her head. “Sebastian doesn't want what I want.”

  “If you two are over there talking about me,” he said loudly, “I'll kindly ask one of you,” his blue eyes speared her in a sharp look, “to speak English so I'll know what's being said.”

  Mariss shook her head as Juliet and Brit joined her.

  “Everything alright?” Juliet asked.

  “Yeah. Just fine. My mother's being a mother.”

  Brit laughed. “I like your mother.”

  “Yes, well, she needs to mind her own business. Sebastian, will you play something else please?”

  “Any requests?”

  “Something that will keep my mother from being so irritating.”

  Sebastian laughed. “I'll play one of my own. How's that?”

  “Fine.” Mariss crossed her arms and finished her coffee.

  Sebastian launched into a new song. Even after just playing that one, he was considerably relaxed. Mariss watched his stress ebb while he played. His shoulders relaxed, the corners of his mouth turned up in peaceful surrender
to the music. His eyes darted up to look at her. That 'cat and mouse' look - the one that said she'd been caught with no chance of being freed - made her mind buzz.

  Mindy walked in as he was finishing. Mariss took in the look of fear on her face and knew that Sebastian wasn't going to be pleased.

  Katrina leaned over the back of the sofa and whispered, “You need to reevaluate what's important, Mariss. That man is not good for you.”

  Sebastian stopped playing. He looked up at mindy expectantly, his dominance pulling the room into submission.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “I couldn't find them.”

  Sebastian growled and rose from the piano. He slammed the cover down on the keys, making everyone jump. Brenda, being the closest, utter a little scream.

  “They weren't where you said!” Mindy exclaimed. “I looked everywhere!”

  “I'll find them,” he said.

  “I'll go with you.” Mariss rose from the sofa.

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Mariss didn't give Sebastian a chance to argue. She marched out the front door and into the night.

  “I need to be alone,” he told her when she'd shut the front door.

  “So do I. I'll be really quiet. Just get me away from…”

  “Your mother?”

  Mariss nodded. “Please.”

  With a hand on her back, Sebastian led her around to the garage. The door opened to reveal his Jaguar convertible.

  “You have this and you let someone drive you around all the time?” Mariss ran her hand over the sleek body.

  “I can't be bothered to carry it overseas all the time.”

  She shook her head. “You are a piece of work.”

  “So you've said. Shall we?”

  Sebastian opened her door. Mariss slipped inside and waited for him to go around to the other side.

  The engine purred to life when he cranked the key. He backed the car out of the drive and onto the street.

  “Hold on.” Sebastian shifted into gear and the car ripped down the road.

  Mariss grinned as her hair whipped about her face. She should have put it in a ponytail, but it was too late now.