Page 86 of Buckled in Barbwire

Brody presses a kiss to my forehead. “There’s not a chance I’m walking straight after that ride.”

My wife is quiet beside me while I drive us to the house. The silence isn’t awkward, but it’s not reassuring either. What’s left unsaid is beginning to sound like regrets.

Paisley appeared properly fucked and satisfied as I carried her out of the bar. Her loopy smile was blissed out. Each breathy sigh told me she’s content. But the last seven minutes have provided too much time for me to assume otherwise.

I’m stuck behind the wheel with my own doubt as company. It’s not a partner I appreciate or entertain willingly. Lately, and often, these uncertainties hammer into me whenever a certain bundle of sunshine is involved. This woman has a way of twisting me up inside until I barely recognize myself. The reflection in the mirror smirks at my demise, but the warmth spreading through my chest doesn’t feel like doom.

A soundless chuckle mimics disbelief. Look at me beingcontemplative and shit. She might’ve gone and actually saved my soul.

Which means there’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever let her go.

A sideways glance finds her staring out the window. It’s not dark yet but the landscape is nothing out of the ordinary. I want her eyes on me. Always.

The palm I have glued to her thigh gives a gentle squeeze, feeding off our connection. “Twinkles?”

Paisley blinks from the stupor. Her gaze shifts to me, soothing the insatiable craving. “Boss?”

My dick twitches reflexively. That nickname has taken on a new meaning. I fight the heat surging under my skin, concentrating on the road ahead.

“Are we still enemies?”

Her plump bottom lip gets caught between her teeth. “What do you think?”

“I’d prefer to be lovers.” My hand drifts higher to slip under the hem of her dress.

She clamps her legs shut, trapping my fingers and halting their advance. “We agreed to just once.”

“Can we expand the restriction to cover one night instead?”

“Not satisfied?”

My palm roams along her satin skin. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Paisley hums, poking her tongue into her cheek to provoke me. “How much sex are we talking about? It’s barely seven o’clock. Does this deal end at midnight?”

A noncommittal shrug answers her. “Let’s not limitourselves more than necessary. At this rate, I have hours to worship you.”

“Good grief,” she exhales. “I suppose I can be flexible with our nonexistent rules.”

“That’s my good little wife.” A thought occurs to me, swiping at the lust before it clogs my brain. “Are you sore?”

Her thighs clench again and I groan. “Not really. Just sensitive.”

My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Or not,” she murmurs.

I swerve when my foot slips off the pedal. “Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me when I can’t do anything about it.”

“Better hurry before I change my mind.”

The truck roars when I slam on the gas. Paisley laughs and reaches over to boop my nose. I bite at her, making her squeal louder. Arousal pumps hotter in my blood with each passing mile. It takes entirely too long to reach the gate.

My fingers tremble as I jab at the keypad. The code isn’t working, which spurs my irritation to enter it wrong again. “Dammit.”

“Did you forget? Or did someone change it?” Her lashes flutter to the beat of her taunting.

I narrow my eyes on her sassy mouth and blindly punch at the buttons. The soft whir of the mechanics clicking into gear signals my success. Paisley huffs at the gloating smirk aimed at her. I blow her a kiss before gunning it toward the garage.

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