by Ella Miles
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her. “Your doctor did not give you permission to run ten miles your first time out.”
She mimics my move, crossing her arms over her chest. “She permitted me to return to my normal activities. These are my normal activities. I have a race coming up in less than a month, and I’d prefer not to get last place.”
I narrow my eyes. “Fine. We will do things your way. But I’m coming with you so I can carry you home or call a cab when you’re two miles in and you can’t move any further. Deal?”
She rolls her eyes. “Back to worrying about me so quickly.”
“I never said I wouldn’t worry about you. Just that I’d be an ass rather than a gentleman. One wince from you, and I’ll be carrying you over my shoulder caveman style.”
She huffs. “Fine, let’s go.”
“You’re wearing that?” I ask, when I don’t see her reach for a tank top or T-shirt.
She cocks her head to the side, putting her hands on her hips and pushing her chest out. “You have a problem with what I’m wearing?”
I stare at her chest. I do. No one should see her body, but me. But now isn’t the time to argue. I’ll save it for when she’s in pain and doesn’t want me to call a car in about a mile. “Nope.”
She heads out my front door, stretching her arms a little as she walks out into the dark sky. The sun has barely started to rise and provide enough light to know that it isn’t the middle of the night. I predict we are back home before the sun entirely comes up. I should take her out to brunch or something. I lock the front door, turn around, and she’s gone.
Dammit.
I sprint down my driveway, squinting as I look from left to right to see which direction she went. To the left is a flat stretch, to the right a giant hill. Of course, she chose the harder path. That seems to be her preferred method.
I run, chasing after her as she finishes climbing the hill. My lungs burn, and my legs ache when I finally catch her.
“What happened to warming up first?” I ask, as I inhale hard, trying to recover.
She smirks, keeping a perfect rhythm and form. She’s barely out of breath despite tackling a huge hill and running expertly. She isn’t jogging; she’s fucking running.
“I already warmed up.”
“Huh?” is all I can get out between aching pants.
“I didn’t wake up at five, I woke up at four, stretched, and warmed up a little on your treadmill in the basement.”
My eyes widen. “You’ve already been working out for an hour?”
She nods, although I don’t see a drop of sweat.
“What race are you training for?” I finally ask, as she continues to sprint. I glance down at her taped ankle, but it doesn’t seem to be giving her any trouble.
“The LA marathon.”
I freeze, stopping for a moment to stumble and fall into my neighbor’s grass.
“Come on you pansy! I don’t have time to stop. I’m out of shape and need to get faster,” Larkyn shouts. She doesn’t hesitate for a second to stop and check on me. She just keeps running.
Shit.
I’m way out of my league. I workout. I run. I lift. I sprint. But I don’t run marathons. I never have. No desire. It’s too much work for not enough gain. I prefer crushing people when I take over their businesses.
I pull myself off the ground and chase after Larkyn. And I know that for the next ten miles, that is what I’m going to be doing.
Chasing her.
I collapse onto my sofa after the ten miles, which felt more like twenty, because Larkyn chose the hardest fucking route she could find. There were thirty-three hills on the route. Thirty-three! Insane. And she said that was her easy run day. I don’t want to know what her hard day is.
I pant over and over, covered in sweat. I ditched my T-shirt somewhere around mile three. And there is no way I’m walking, or even getting in one of my cars, to go back and get it.
Larkyn walks by me, and into the kitchen. I hear her opening cabinets, and then I hear the ice as it clinks in a glass.
She walks back, and stands over me, smirking.
“I don’t know how you are standing. Or moving at all,” I pant.
She walks over to me and holds out a glass of water. I take it, chugging the entire glass in one gulp.
She takes a seat near my feet, and props her foot up on my ottoman before placing a bag of ice on her foot.
I raise an eyebrow. “Your ankle hurt?”
“No, but it will. I pushed it hard.”
“Why?”
She stills and takes a sip of her water. I don’t think she is going to answer me.
“Because I like competing against myself. I like being healthy. I like being this fit. And I like winning.” She smirks at me when she says winning.
Dammit. She really does plan on winning our little battle with each other.
She smiles with her eyes as she gazes at me. “I’m surprised you were able to keep up.”
I moan. “I’m not moving off this couch the rest of the week. You killed me.”
“I didn’t ask you to come with me. I usually prefer running on my own. No one to hold me back.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on running with you again.”
She leans her head back with a massive grin on her face. She thinks she’s won. One less thing for her to worry about.
“I plan on driving next to you in my car as I yell profanities at you.”
Her head pops back up fast, looking at me with wide-eyes and thinned lips. She’s terrified that I would really do that. And I think I just might.
Suddenly, my tastes for making her squirm change. I want to make her squirm, but for very different reasons. I’m tired of our game where I annoy the crap out of her, so she doesn’t fall in love with me. I want to make her writhe under my grasp as I lick her most sensitive of parts, and taste how delicious her juices taste mixed with the sweet sweat misted over her body.
“No,” she says, noticing my reaction before I say anything or move.
I laugh. “I want to taste you.”
“No,” she says again, her voice shaky. She wants me too, but is afraid. “I’m gross and I smell. At least let me shower first.”
I smirk. “No, I want you as you are.”
She takes off up the stairs. I jump off the couch, and chase after her.
She may be fast, but I’m stronger. She won’t win this. I’ll catch her. And when I do, I’ll give her the best orgasm of her life.
Life is perfect with her. We’ve only been married one day, but this is precisely what I imagined. Fun. Flirting. And sex. Nothing serious.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at my Apple Watch to see the message. I freeze, not liking what it says. It’s from my lawyer. All the money we deposited into her account is gone. All one million of it. I don’t know what she did with the money, but I’m about to find out.
First, though, I’ll fuck her. Then, I’ll ask about the money, I think, as I grab the bathroom door. She thinks she can lock herself inside and shower before I can get to her.
“You might as well give up. You’re not going to win.”
“Never,” she squeals as I grab her.
Never. Such a meaningless word. Similar to forever. Neither exists. I might want her forever. I might hate her never. But both are untrue. Because as much as I thought I knew who Larkyn Day is, I’m wrong. She tricked me into giving her money she desperately needed for something. And if I’m not careful, she’s going to take more from me. More money, more of my time, more of my heart. Until there is nothing left, but an empty shell.
I thought I married her to keep women like her away, but what if she is the devil I’ve been trying to save myself from all along?
11
Larkyn
Kade is going to win.
Not the war, but this fight.
He catches my arm, and I freeze. I don’t want him to fuck me when I’m this gross. I don’t want him to find
me disgusting and think I usually smell like this. If he fucks me now, it will be a long time before he fucks me again.
I sweat a lot when I run. And that sweat smells like ass. As much as it would help me if he suddenly didn’t want to have sex with me anymore, I don’t think that I could survive a whole year in his house with him without sex.
My heart is conflicted though as he pulls me close. I want to fuck him, but I also don’t know whether to knee him in the balls or thank him for running with me. I hate him acting like he can control me, which is what he was doing running with me. He thought he could persuade me to stop.
But I also want to thank him for giving me the motivation to keep running. That hurt like a motherfucker, but it was necessary if I’m going to get back into marathon shape.
“Tell me no,” Kade says, as I’m pressed against his body, straddling the doorway between the bathroom and my bedroom.
“No.”
He smirks, knowing that I would say no.
I take a breath, trying to calm my breathing so I can keep a clear head.
He takes a step back, not touching me, but still close enough I can smell the sweat dripping off his body. He grins to show me his damn dimples, and my legs go weak.
I grab the doorframe to stay upright, when I want to be holding onto him.
“Tell me to leave,” he says.
“Lea—”
He grabs my shorts and shoves them down. Kneels before me and grabs my thighs while his mouth attacks my pussy.
Jesus.
He lifts me up as my legs go around his shoulders, and his tongue dances across my bud. I grab his head tightly to remind myself to hold on and not let my head fall backward like I want, as noises leave my mouth I didn’t know existed.
He drops me on my bed and kneels at the edge as his head comes down on my pussy again. He nips at my clit.
I bite my lip to keep him from knowing how much I like what he’s doing.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes against the lips between my legs.
“Don’t you dare stop!” I arch my back until my body is pressed against his mouth again.
He smirks and attacks. His tongue moves faster, matching the pulse of my blood, which is all pooled between my legs instead of in my head.
I come, screaming Kade’s damn name.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he climbs up my body.
“Don’t you ever tell me, or any man, not to fuck you because you think you are gross. You are fucking amazing. Even more amazing after you just kicked my ass running ten miles. Don’t you dare. Promise?” His lips twitch as he talks and the smile I’m so used to vanishes. He’s serious, and I’m afraid he won’t let me off the bed until I’ve taken his oath.
“I promise.”
He stills, and when he finally believes my words, he leans back. He climbs back on my bed making himself comfortable, smiling with his arms behind his head, so that I can see every glorious inch of his toned body all the way to the v-shape that disappears beneath his shorts, hiding the one part of his body mine is still aching for.
“Good, now fuck me to prove you don’t find me gross.”
Damn, that slow smile is contagious.
I pull the bra off my body and attack. My legs part over his legs and I lower myself until I find the hardness push against my groin like I was expecting. Our lips lock, and I taste his sweat mixed with my cum.
It’s the opposite of gross. It’s what pleasure, pain, hard work, and desire taste like. How could that taste bad? More importantly, how could I have ever thought that he would find me gross? He can’t resist me, just like I can’t resist his glistening body.
I can’t wait to have him in me. He knows I can’t either.
His pants are down, and I feel his slick cock against my entrance.
He doesn’t wait for me to permit him to fuck me without a condom this time. He just does. And I don’t blame him. Fucking without a barrier is so much hotter than fucking with one.
I thrust on top of him. Loving being in control of everything. Speed. Depth. Angles. And controlling when Kade gets to come. Because I plan on torturing him a little, just like he has me.
I stop suddenly, pretending I need to catch my breath.
“Not happening, sweetie. You don’t get to taunt me. You forget I’m more experienced at this than you.” Kade starts thrusting.
I pout. I forgot that he can thrust from underneath me just as easily as he can on top.
He kisses me again, and the pout melts away.
He nibbles on my lips as he comes inside me, just as my body pulses my orgasm around him.
He collapses back, exhausted. But that just energized me more. Who knew sex would turn me into a sex fiend?
“We have to wait at least another twenty minutes before we do that again. You exhaust me, woman.”
I smile.
“I need to go lift anyway.” I consider staying and asking him about why we aren’t using a condom. But it doesn’t matter. I’m on birth control, and I’m clean. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I trust Kade. I trust him too much.
I start to climb off of him, but Kade grabs my hand stopping me.
“I have a question first.”
I pause and sit back down on his cock that is just beginning to stir again. Twenty minutes, my ass.
“What did you do with the money?”
“How do you know?”
“I have my ways.”
“You have lawyers and people that work at the bank you mean?”
He shrugs.
I frown. Why is he asking me about the money? And why does he seem so pissed about it? I open my mouth to tell him what I did with the money, but then I stop.
“It’s none of your business what I did with the money.” I climb off of him. He tries to keep me on him, but I jerk my arm free and stand next to my bed pissed. Butt naked, but pissed.
“Yes, it is my business. It’s my money. You are my wife. I need to know if you did anything illegal or if you are going to need more. Because if you already spent everything, I don’t know how you expect to buy things like dresses to the parties you are supposed to be attending with me.”
I glare at him. I’ve never been so angry with him before. If he’s doing this to keep up his end of the deal of being an ass, then he’s doing a good job. Seconds ago, I could have loved him for making me feel wanted. Now there is nothing but hate.
“I didn’t do anything illegal. And don’t worry about the dresses. I’ll make sure I wear something worthy of being your wife, and you won’t have to pay me another dime.”
“Tell me what you did with the money.”
“No. It’s none of your business. Our contract never had any stipulations about me telling you what I did with the money or that I had to spend it a certain way.” I grab a new pair of shorts and bra and put them on. “Now, I’m going to lift. Enjoy the rest of your day, you bastard.”
“Damn, I need to spend more time in the gym. Or at least I need to watch my back, because I'm pretty sure my wife could beat me up,” Kade says, standing in the doorway of the basement gym as I push the bar with way too much weight on it over my head.
I should have taken today easy. I haven’t lifted in weeks, and my wrist is still fragile. But Kade pissed me off. So I taped up my wrist and went full out. I’ll regret it later.
“What do you want?” I ask, racking the bar and sitting up to wipe the sweat from my forehead, not even bothering to look at Kade. I’m too tired to give him my full glare.
I hear him walk toward me, but I keep my eyes focused on the floor like the black spongy material that makes up the floor is interesting.
“You don’t even have any music playing or the TV on,” Kade says, stopping next to me.
I turn to him and snarl. “I couldn’t figure out how to work your ridiculous sound system, and I don’t watch much TV. I don’t need entertainment to workout.”
He grins, displaying his damn dimples. He’s chan
ged. He’s wearing dark jeans and a black T-shirt that fits him too well. My insides curl, and my heart speeds up. How the hell does he melt my anger for him with just a grin? I really am in trouble.
I lower my eyebrows and frown. He doesn’t get to know what he’s doing to me.
I lean back down and lift the bar off the rack. I’ve already finished my reps, but I need a distraction from the sex god that is standing over me looking at me like he can control all my emotions.
My arms wobble a little as I lower the bar to my chest.
“I need your help,” Kade says, putting his hands in his pocket.
My eyes cut to him as I push the bar up. He looks so sincere. Innocent, even. His eyes are big, and he bites his lip, like he can’t believe he even admitted that to me.
I lower the bar again to my chest, and this time, I can barely push the bar up. Kade grabs it as my arms wobble, and he helps me rack the bar.
I pant heavily, but I’m not sure if it’s because I’m tired or want Kade to climb on top of me and fuck me on this bench.
“I need you to bartend with me tonight at King's,” Kade says.
I smirk. “No.”
He sighs rubbing his neck. “I figured you would say that.”
“Then you are learning. Why would I want to help you out?”
“Because you are my wife, and I’m paying you to help me.”
I snarl. I hate Kade. I don’t know how I go from liking to hating so quickly.
“Well, that has me convinced.” I roll my eyes.
“Please?”
“No.”
“Why not? What else are you going to do tonight?”
I get up and walk over to the large tank of water and fill a paper cup with water before washing it down. I feel his eyes on my ass, and when I turn around, they are on my flattened breasts, squashed beneath the sports bra I’m wearing.
I raise my eyebrows. “Really? You’re checking me out while asking me for help? That’s not going to work.”
He cocks his head and smiles, as he purposefully stares harder at my breasts.
“Just honoring our contract and making sure you hate me. Is it working?”