Page 65 of Say I Do

I groanedas I sat up in the bed. Bits of rice still stuck to my back and thigh. Harlow and I hadn’t even bothered to shower after our broken kitchen table fuck fest. We’d spent the rest of the night christening every surface of our bedroom instead.

Glancing over, I picked a bit of rice from Harlow’s hair. He shifted in his sleep, muttered under his breath, and then cozied up against his pillow even harder. Red marks littered his skin. Bite marks marred the spots where I’d lost control and sank my teeth into him. Bruises were already starting to form as well, the redness turning a deep purple. I brushed my fingers over one. Harlow gasped.

“Stop,” he moaned as his eyelids fluttered open. “If you start touching bruises, I’m jumping your dick again.”

I chuckled. “Not this morning,” I said. “I don’t think there’s anything left in my balls for you to take, mostricio.”

Harlow reached up and ran a hand over my arm. “We could try.”

I shook my head. “Go back to bed. I’m going to have someone come clean up that mess and grab a cup of coffee.”

“Tea,” Harlow muttered before he hesitated. “Please.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Did you just say please?”

He glared at me. “Do I have to punch you again?”

I leaned down. My lips fluttered over his before they followed his sharp cheek, and I whispered against his ear. “If you do, I’ll punch you right back. I don’t hold back with you, Harlow, so I suggest you be careful.” I nipped his lobe, and he moaned for me. “We’re not done talking about you being alone with that guy yesterday. Don’t think we are.”

When I pulled back, he nodded slightly. That was all I needed. I climbed out of bed, stretched, and groaned as my body protested. Damn, I was almost forty years old. I was too damn old to be playing games with Harlow, yet here we were.

I made my way to the kitchen, stepping over wasted food and broken glasses. My table was unrepairable, but as I remembered the way Harlow clung to me as he took my cock, I grinned.Fuck, it was worth it.

I’d never met anyone like Harlow, at least not someone I’d take to bed. He was a pain in my ass, an arrogant little asshole, but he’d tried to help me as well. Even when it sounded like that was the last place he’d wanted to be yesterday.

I needed to find out more about that man he was with.

Harlow had slapped me for even looking as if I’d go after the head of the triads, but I didn’t give a fuck. He could tell me no all he wanted, but what I chose to do was on me and no one else. I had to figure out why he looked so sick and scared. Rounding the counter, I peered into the folder I’d been given. There was information on both the Acetos and Cappolas, but the really interesting bits pointed to the Acetos.

A knock dragged my attention to the door. I padded over to it and peered through the hole. Marianna stood in the hallway, a bag slung over her arm with her supplies. I opened the door.

“Hey,” I said sheepishly as I stepped back. “There’s a lot of mess today.”

Marianna’s eyes widened before she turned to glare at me. “What is this? Did you throw every ounce of food on the floor for me to clean up?” She groaned. “It’s going to cost you extra.”

“I know, I know,” I said as I moved over to the table. “Ignore that for now. I’m having my brother come over so I can take it out.”

She sighed. “Fine, but it’s still going to cost you.” She popped her hands on her hips once she sat her bag down. “Put some pants on.”

I glanced down and realized I was still naked. Harlow had truly scrambled my brain last night. I was pretty sure I had a limp as I made my way to the laundry room. I dragged a pair of sweats up my hips before I returned to the dining room and froze.

“Who the fuck is this?” Harlow asked, his arms wrapped around Marianna as a knife pressed against her throat.

“That’s Marianna,” I said plainly. “My cleaner. She comes once a week to get the place in order, and I do the rest myself. Let her go. Please.”

Marianna shivered. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Harlow, my husband,” I explained.

“Shut up,” Harlow snapped at her. “Why are you naked around her? Did you fuck her?”

“What? Did you expect me to be a virgin?” I asked, lifting a brow as I dumped last night’s words back into his lap.

The knife pressed against her throat harder. “Don’t fucking test me!”

I waved a hand. “I’ve known Marianna for ten years! She’s like family. Of course, I haven’t fucked her. Idiot. Put the knife down before I have to stab you. I’m already in pain from your little fork game, and I haven’t had any coffee. Don’t cross the line.”

Harlow narrowed his eyes at me before he obviously decided I was telling the truth. His hand fell away, and Marianna scrambled from him before she slid behind me. She gripped my arms tightly, her head against my back as a whimper escaped her lips.

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