Page 121 of Wife Number One

I knew the answer even if she didn’t.

But she was a fool. I twisted our positions so her back was to the wall, my body pressed against hers. “Just fucking say it, Kara. Say you’re in love with a ghost.”

Because that’s what he was to her. And that’s what he needed to stay. Over my dead body was she going to go to him. If she didn’t want me, fine. What-the-fuck-ever. She would eventually find some nice accountant or something. Get married. Have a couple more babies and make Hayley Jade a big sister.

I could live with that.

Even though the thought made me want to punch something.

But the Sinners were scum, and Chaos had been their leader. He’d been the one mixed up with Caleb. Didn’t she remember what they’d done to her? Didn’t she remember how he’d held her hostage? How Caleb had taken Hayley Jade from her arms, the exact same way her cunt of a husband had. Didn’t she see Chaos was cut from the same goddamn cloth?

She had some savior complex because he’d shown her a scrap of human decency when she’d had nothing else. That asshole shrink at the hospital probably would have diagnosed her with Stockholm Syndrome if he hadn’t been so busy chatting her up.

I’d never done jealousy. Never had anyone I cared enough about to get jealous over. Amber and Kiki had fucked all the guys at the club, and I didn’t feel a thing, watching them go off with them instead of me.

They could have gone off with Chaos and I wouldn’t have given a damn.

But Kara wasn’t them.

“I barely even knew him,” she said softly.

“And yet you love him anyway.”

“Hawk…”

I shook my head. “Don’t. Don’t fucking look at me with those big eyes and say my name.”

“Hawk,” she whispered, doing the one thing I’d asked her not to.

She touched the side of my face, and it felt like death and ecstasy all mixed into one. I hated it and wanted it. Her other hand joined, cupping my face, hands sliding to the back of my neck.

When she pulled me down, I was helpless to resist.

I slammed my mouth down on hers, stealing her gasp as I picked her up, using the wall and my body as leverage.

My tongue battled a war with her lips until she opened for me and I dove inside, tasting her mouth.

She kissed me back, legs locked around my waist, mouths hard and fast, one hand fumbling between us for my only half-done-up fly and the erection straining between us.

I groaned when my jeans fell around my ankles and my dick made contact with her pussy.

I shifted, getting a better position, lining up my tip with her pussy and driving it up inside her.

She cried out, the sound so full of pleasure I wanted it engraved in my brain forever. I fucked her fast and hard, pistoning my hips, slamming my body into hers, greedy and selfish like the asshole I was.

I couldn’t let her go to play with her clit, didn’t want to put her down when she felt so damn good in my arms and wrapped around my cock.

But I needed her to come. Come with me. “Touch your clit, Little Mouse. Play with it like I would.”

She went to shake her head, but I claimed her mouth again, kissing any disagreements right off her lips. “Make yourself come. Rub your clit while you take my cock. I want to feel you come on me.”

She moaned, hot for the words I growled in her ear, just like she’d been the night before. Her fingers came between us, grazing the topside of my cock as she found her clit.

“Faster,” I whispered in her ear. “Need to feel you clench around me.”

Her head tilted back, exposing her throat. I licked a path up it, biting at her jaw, so she’d lower her head and kiss me.

Our mouths connected.

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