Page 42 of Filthy Little Games

“It is yours now,” Creed says when he stops and faces me. “You can come here whenever you want.”

“As long as you’re with me, right?”.

“For the time being. I hope I can trust you one day.”

“Me too,” I admit. “And it would be nice to have a phone again.”

“Why?” he asks, his words suddenly harsh. “Someone you need to call?”

“No. I just have photos of Oriana on my phone, along with some others.”

“I’ll think about it,” he says before he turns and walks off down the hall.

“I need something to wear!” I call after him.

“Help yourself to my closet.”

I’m guessing his closet won’t have any panties or bras. At least, I hope it doesn’t. Even though we’ve not even been married a full day, I don’t like the thought of my husband bringing some woman here so often that she has a whole wardrobe waiting for her.

Curious, I slip into the master bedroom just as the hot water turns on in the en suite bathroom. Going to the closet, I open the double doors and flip on the light. On the left are rows of various dark suits. On the right are more casual pants and button downs. Along the back wall are drawers below a wall safe.

I head for them, pulling the top drawer open expecting to find skimpy lingerie. Instead, there are socks. The next drawer is underwear. Men’s boxer briefs in various dark colors. And the third drawer is full of white cotton tees.

I grab one of those, since they’re the most comfortable thing in the closet to sleep in, then browse the hanging clothes on the way out. I’ve just stepped into the bedroom again when Creed strolls out of the bathroom completely freaking naked. Head to toe, there’s nothing covering his flesh but ink.

“Ah…I’m…I was just…Sorry! I’m sorry…” Why am I apologizing profusely for busting in on him, when he’s the one who is wandering around the room with his dick swinging this way and that way? Yes, it’s long enough that it swings around like a pendulum on its on volition. And he’s just standing there while I stare at it, at him, unable to remove my eyes from his massive, gorgeous body. Thankfully, the knife wound in his upper thigh looks to be healing.

“Yes, my blushing bride?”

“I was…need…a shirt.” I hold up the tee like an idiot, unable to speak in complete sentences.

Grinning, he says, “I was…need…a towel,” before he walks toward the hallway, giving me an unobstructed view of his bare backside and muscular ass.

I hear a closet open and close, then he returns with a blue towel in his hands and his pendulum in full swing again.

Something blue flies at my face, hitting me and falling to the floor before I can react. A second towel.

“For your shower and your drool,” Creed says with a smirk as he swaggers back to the bathroom.

Oh, he’s never going to let me live this moment down.

Without turning around, he calls out over the running water, “I guess we’re even now, for me watching you shower and having to jerk off in the city clerk’s bathroom.”

A laugh bursts from my lips as my brain eventually catches up to his comment.

I knew Creed disappeared into the restroom before the marriage ceremony, but I had no idea that he was in such a state from a few teasing strokes I gave him in the car.

I had only intended to have his hand make one taunting pass down his length. And then when I felt how long and thick he was, I couldn’t stop myself from doing it again and again before my common sense returned to me.

Oh, this is going to be a long night if Creed insists I sleep in his bed again but refuses to touch me.

Not that I think he’ll refuse tonight.

And having sex with Creed Ferraro, because it’s our wedding night and he’s most likely expecting it, won’t be the worst thing I’ve ever had to endure.

It could even be great.

Besides, the closer Creed and I get, the more likely it is that he’ll help me get Oriana back after he kills Emilio Rovina.

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