Page 59 of Satin Empire

She sighs and closes her eyes. “You don’t need to make your chest muscles dance. We’re supposed to be partners, remember?”

I look down at myself, frowning. “You noticed?”

“Hard not to.”

“I was being subtle.”

“Yeah, right. I’m not sure you’re capable.”

I lean over and kiss her cheek. She tilts her chin toward me, giving me an exasperated shake of her head, but I can tell she’s as happy as I am.

“Either way, you’re game?”

“You haven’t even told me what you need from me yet.”

“You’re the best.” I kiss her and hop to my feet. “I’ll get started.”

“Wait, Carlo,” she calls as I head into the house. “Seriously, what are we doing?”

I keep my idea a tightly guarded secret until I bundle her into the truck the next morning and drive up toward the northeast. She’s a little annoyed, but reluctantly agreed to wear a pretty little sundress cut short at her thighs and conservative at the neckline. I want her looking adorable and distracting, but I don’t want to have to beat anyone’s brains out for staring at her tits, and I figure this is a solid middle ground.

I’m humming along with the music, one hand on her smooth skin, insanely tempted to pull over and fuck her raw in that damn dress. It’s a light lemon pattern, yellow and green, and makes her tan skin seem to glow, and I love her dark, wavy hair, and the way she flicks her fingernails through it when she’s nervous, and the little gap between her front teeth, and how she presses her tongue against it when she’s annoyed. Her little mannerisms are seeping into me; I’m collecting them like precious little seashells, gathering them into me and keeping them safe. I want every piece I can find, every shred she has to spare.

“Should I be worried I’m about to get murdered?” she asks, squinting at the row homes. They’re spread out more up this way, blocked into neighborhoods separated by trees.

“Now why would I murder my beautiful new wife?”

“I don’t know. Fetish?”

“Baby, you’ve unlocked enough new fetishes for me already.”

She gives me a loving smirk and reaches up to play with the hair on the back of my head. “You really are a good boy, you know that?”

I grip the steering wheel. It’s a little uncomfortable how fucking hard that makes me, and I really don’t want to start analyzing that reaction too closely.

“Easy, girl. I’m already struggling over here. You give me one more reason, and I’m going to pull over and ravish you in the back seat of my truck.”

“Promise?”

I let out a long, frustrated breath, but pull down a residential street. The address we’re headed to is only half a block away, and lucky for her, because I’m raging hard and not in the mood to go easy.

There’s a white sedan parked in the driveway in front of the simple brick house. Curtains cover the front windows, and the door is painted a dark blue. I pull over at the curb and start to get out, but Alana reaches over and grabs onto my seatbelt, keeping me from unbuckling.

“Okay, I put on the dress, I wore makeup, I let you drive my ass all the way out here without asking a single question, and now it’s time you tell me what we’re doing.”

I nod because she’s right, now should be the time. Only I really like teasing her. “Can’t say. It’s a surprise.”

“That’s where the warehouse owner lives, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Want to find out?”

“Carlo, you are so beyond not funny, it’s almost disgusting.”

“But you want to find out.”

She gives me a very level stare and releases her grip on me. “Yes, Carlo, I want to find out, you sloppy little prick.”

I laugh and hop out of the truck. She follows, muttering to herself about how she’s going to stab me in the neck with a fireplace poker, which is pretty brutal since those things aren’t even that sharp. I knock on the door, give it a minute, and knock again until an old man answers.

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