Page 43 of Say I Do

“You stabbed me.”

“Yeah? And you had skanks all over you. We’re even.”

I grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him close. “We’re even when I say we are.”

My kiss shut up any further protest from him. As our tongues tangled together, my heart skipped a beat, as my cock started to harden again. I was surprised any blood was dripping from my hand at all when it seemed to all be relocating to my dick.

“I’m sleeping in my bed tonight. So you better move your shit to your side.”

Harlow stared at me. “What?”

“You heard me.” I handed him my keys and then wrapped an arm around his waist. “Let’s go home.”

We stepped outside and headed for my car before Harlow stopped in his tracks. He turned to look at me, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Before we go, we have to get Tony.”

“Tony?” I asked, my eyebrows knitting together. “Where is he?”

Harlow led me to the sleek black sedan I immediately recognized as Tony’s. As soon as he popped the trunk, Tony glared and let out a string of muffled curses in rapid-fire Italian. I turned and stared at Harlow.

“What the fuck?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Harlow said calmly. “He would have ratted on me.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Untie him.”

“Maybe you should do it. He looks pissed off, and he’s stronger than he looks.” Harlow stretched awkwardly. “My back still stings from that brick wall.”

I stared at the man as if he had two heads. “We’re going to talk about this when we get home. Remember what I said about owing you more?” I waved a hand in Tony’s direction. “This is added to the list.”

Harlow shrugged. “If it’s you fucking me, I don’t see that as a punishment.”

“Oh no, it won’t be fucking you,” I said evenly.

Harlow shivered. “Feels like someone just walked over my grave.”

“If you don’t let Tony out, they will.”

Sighing, Harlow untied Tony, and he ripped the gag out. He glared as he climbed out of the trunk. I held up a hand.

“I’ll handle him. Sorry about that.” I elbowed Harlow. “Apologize.”

“Why? I did what I had to—”

I grabbed a fistful of his hair. “Apologize. Now.”

“I’m sorry or whatever. Never would have done it if I didn’t have to,” he said as he avoided Tony’s glaring gaze.

Tony adjusted his jacket and grunted. “I’m going home for the night, boss.”

“Probably a good idea. Take tomorrow off too.”

He nodded, turned on his heels, and doubled back to get the keys. Harlow handed them over, and Tony stalked away, muttering under his breath. I gazed down at my husband.

“Really?”

Harlow groaned as I marched him toward the car. If he thought he was going to bed anytime soon, he was dead wrong. Some stitches, another stiff drink, and I was going to teach him to never lock Tony in a trunk again. Later I’d work on the stabbing.

---