Page 180 of Hateful Games

The mystery of it has left me intrigued. Because I thought I learned everything there was to know about my wife. Apparently not.

I’m certain she’ll sneak out again tonight.

Except, I’m going to get to the bottom of it, catching her red-handed and demanding answers. Right now, I take full advantage of the opportunity to study her closely without interruption from her hulking pawed bodyguard.

A privilege she’s stolen from me.

Laying sideways with her joined hands underneath as a pillow, her deep red hair fans out below her. The shorter tresses falling onto her right cheek, concealing half of her face. Desperate for a full glimpse combined with the need to touch her, I push the hair behind her ear.

She doesn’t stir.

I let my fingers linger, trailing it down her jaw and to her cherry red lips, still dark with remnants of her lipstick. She has four full drawers with every shade of red and brand under the sun. Yet she keeps buying more.

Then there’s her obsession with books. There’s a delivery every day.

Thank fuck I have money because I want to spoil my fiery girl rotten. If she’ll just call off Bunny, I swear I’ll buy her every library in the country.

Tracing her lips, they part and her warm breath teases my fingertips. Her mouth was so eager as she sucked me dry, it was a miracle I lasted as long as I did. Had we not been at my parents’ house, I would’ve fucked her.

Inching my hand down the slope of her shoulder, down her arm, I stop at her fingers. Lifting them, I take in her new nails. They were a different pattern on our wedding day. I run my fingertips over her coffin-shaped nails with white spiderwebs drawn on each one. I hate that I know what it’s called.

I might’ve secretly looked it up, caught at a very weak moment.

That was quite a lot of unnecessary information.

Although I did learn Rosalie’s favorite are stiletto and almond shaped, which I’ve oftentimes seen her wear over the years. When she shifts, I drop her hand. Bending, I steal a soft kiss. Just a press of my lips against her.

Before the greed to wake her up encompasses me whole, I step back and cover her with the blanket. Locking the door so Bunny and the others don’t slip in, I stride into the closet to strip. After a quick shower, I slide into the bed and wrap my arm around Rosalie’s waist from behind.

I wait, then smile two seconds later.

Rosalie turns, sighs, and tucks herself against me, and everything feels right in the world.

I’m keeping you, Rose… is my last thought as I fall asleep.

***

Only an hour passes when as predicted, Rosalie wakes up but doesn’t immediately rise. Because it takes her a moment to realize her surroundings. She tenses upon realizing I’m in the bed with her.

At first, her reaction is infuriation when she finds herself waking up in my arms while wrapped around me as though I’m her lifeline.

Yet, she never uncurls herself as though she’s on fire.

No, she melts right back against my chest while those sharp fingernails explore the ridges of my abs or wherever she’s resting her palms. It takes all my restraint not to demand she dig them in deeper and mark me as hers.

Even now, her soft breath teases my skin while she trails her hand along my lower abs. Keeping my breathing even becomes a task. Especially when I feel her head lift and gaze up at me. I can imagine those black eyes intently watching with her lips between her teeth.

“Nova,” she whispers.

Christ! She’s killing me.

I find newfound respect for actors. Once satisfied I’m deep in slumber, Rosalie untangles herself from me and shifts away. Her hair brushes my arm that’s stretched across her pillow as she leaves the bed.

Her footsteps recede as she tiptoes toward the door. I hear her wince when she unlocks it with a creaking noise. She doesn’t completely shut it, which works in my favor.

Soft light from the hallway filters in through the ajar door when I open my eyes and sit up. I decide to wait and let her settle in before I confront her. My patience lasts for a good twenty minutes before I rise and leave the bedroom.

God knows what trouble she’s up to that it requires her to be up all night.

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