Page 233 of Hateful Games

“No. Few hours, maybe.”

“You’re hopeless.”

Inside the walk-in closet, I put her down on the lush carpet. Opening the cupboard, I stand behind her with my hands on her luscious ass in the painted-on leggings she’s wearing to torture me. “Pick your dress.”

Her head tilts back to gaze at me incredulously. “Wait… you’re not actually dressing me, right?”

“No.” Relief pours from her, and I grin. “But I am watching you.”

“This isn’t a strip show.”

My jaw clenches. “Don’t require a reminder of just how familiar you are with those, Rose.”

Rolling her eyes, she questions, “What is the auction for?”

“Cars.” At my answer, a hilarious smile stretches across her pink and plump lips. I narrow my gaze in warning. “Please keep your arsonist talents to a minimum, at least until I’ve driven them once.”

“So, after that I have your permission?” she quips, so smug. “You know, to brush up on my skills.”

I pinch her ass in punishment, earning a pout, and nod toward her clothes. “Pick, little hellion. We have to leave soon.”

“A little privacy, please?”

“No.”

“Wrong answer, hubby.”

“I’m getting ready too. We’re saving time. Like couples do.”

“I hate your bossiness.”

I arch one eyebrow—my cock hardening when she doesn’t deny us being a couple—and huskily say, “Is that why you beg every time I’m eating your cunt?”

Tongue-tied, she blushes furiously and rummages through her clothes.

Satisfied, I go to my own side and pull out a charcoal gray suit off the hanger. Despite all her protests, she’s the one stealing covert glances as I take off each item of clothing off my body. For her benefit and mine because it distracts her from hurrying up to dress, I take my time putting on my gray shirt and slacks.

My dick rises to half-mast when her lusty gaze locks on the bulge, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

I should put us out of our misery and fuck her right here and now.

But the sweet agony—nothing will be sweeter than her surrender when she’s stripped of all her defenses and resistance about us being inevitable.

So, I hold my urge to do just that and swallow my tongue when I take in her sexy-as-fuck outfit.

I think it’s a jumpsuit she’s wearing that appears to be a minidress with how it’s cinched around her tiny waist. The hem ending just below where her ass and thighs meet with a collar and full puffy sleeves, looking both formal and chic.

My cock painfully twitches, fully hard when my gaze locks on the knee-high black leather boots she slides up her calves.

Making my tight-knit control waver.

I know I’m gaping at her, desperate to throw her legs over my shoulders and taste her pussy. It’s been two fucking days since Vegas.

Absolute nightmare.

Approaching me with a seductive sway of her hips, she boldly grazes her palm over my erection and steps out of reach when I make a grab for her. “Didn’t you say we were getting late, hubby?”

I playfully growl, “You’re a menace, my wife.”

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