Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
ASPEN
“W ho am I supposed to marry now?” Oren complained.
I leaned over the back of the couch and leveled a deadpan stare at his prone position. He glanced up with a smile before returning his attention to the Rubik’s cube.
Where the hell did he find that?
“Oren, we all know you’ll never find someone you’re willing to be trapped in a marriage with,” Ash joked beside me.
“It’s not a trap if they’re just as wild and carefree as me,” he defended.
Ash scoffed as Brogan exited the hallway, carrying two large boxes. “Where should I set these?”
“God, you’re such a showoff,” Oren said.
Brogan set the boxes where I gestured to the others by the door before coming to lean over the couch with me and Ash. “I’m not. I’m just doing double the work to make up for you lying around.”
“Well, I did double the work last night with those girls we brought home.”
“Yeah, fucking right. You did not,” Brogan denied.
I held up my hands to cut them off. “I do not need to hear any more of this conversation, thank you very much.”
Thankfully, Parker chose that moment to return from downstairs before Oren could ignore my request. “The movers are here. Do you want us to start bringing things down?”
“God, no,” I said. “You guys have been more than helpful, helping me pack all my things up.”
“Although, we unfortunately didn’t get to stumble across any unmentionables,” Ash grumbled.
I laughed. “Shiloh came yesterday to help with those things first. And thanks to all of you, I don’t have to deal with strangers rummaging through my things and packing them carelessly.”
“Yeah, the laminated directions for each of us made sure carelessness never happened,” Brogan said flatly with a forced smile.
“And I thank you for it.”
“Always here to help,” Oren called from the couch. “Are you sure you don’t want more help?”
“As helpful as you’ve been, Oren,” I deadpanned, “Lucian said he would provide the movers. So, I’m going to make sure I get his money’s worth.”
Once the movers got started—after requesting pictures and autographs with the band—the guys got ready to go.
Ash reached me before the others. “So, I guess this means I won’t be receiving any texts anytime soon?”
I laughed and shook my head. “Probably not. I can’t imagine that would go over well with Lucian.”
“Bummer. After our last interaction, I’ve been doing some research. Turns out, I have a side of me I never knew existed that loves being a dominant. According to women I’m exploring with, I’m good at it too.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I rolled my eyes. “Make sure those women have my address to send thank you cards to.”
Ash barked a laugh before sobering and lowering his voice. Not that anyone had heard our conversation up until that point. “In all seriousness, if you ever need me, you can always call, and I’ll be there. I mean, the sex was a definite perk…” He winked. “But I know there’s more behind it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t reach out if you’re stressed and need someone to lean on.”
At first, I stiffened, struggling with the need to deny ever being out of control of my emotions. But this was Ash—my friend. Even if he came over for the sex relief, he always stayed and managed to get me to talk without forcing me into it. My muscles relaxed, and I looped my hand around his and squeezed, swallowing the lump his offer lodged in my throat.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
I just hoped I wouldn’t need to take him up on his offer. I hadn’t since the last time he came over. Between losing control in scenes with Lucian and finding a release from stress with spanking, I hadn’t needed anything other than that.
The rest of the guys joined us, ending our private conversation.
“I’m not going to lie,” Parker said. “I’m surprised you’re the next to get married after me. Despite all the jokes, I assumed it would be Oren.”
“Really?” Oren asked, his face pinched in confusion.
“Yeah. I was sure I’d get a phone call from you, preparing me for the leaked photos in the tabloids of you marrying some random woman in Vegas on a drunken escapade.”
Oren’s brows furrowed, and he looked up. Then he shrugged in complete acceptance. “I want to argue that, but honestly, that sounds exactly like something I would do.”
The guys laughed before lining up for hugs.
Parker was the last and stayed back until the others were out of earshot. “Are you sure about all this?”
Taking in the concern darkening his eyes, I realized that this would be my future for at least the next month.
Despite not covering much in Lucian’s office, we did agree that we needed to start telling people this coming week. Right now, the guys and Shiloh were the only people who knew. Although they were the friends closest to me, I knew others would want to add their two cents into my decision as well. Which meant my future held a lot more of being pulled aside and asking if I was sure.
And if I wanted to make it through all those nosy conversations, I needed to stop acting like I was some wild animal Lucian had captured and taken to a zoo where I would be trapped forever against my will. If I wanted to make other people believe that this was the real marriage Lucian claimed, then I needed to pretend I believed it was too. So, I slapped on a smile I hoped reached my eyes and did just that.
“Of course, I’m sure. Why do you ask?” I aimed for sincerity but worried my cheeks would crack like some plastic Stepford wife.
“It’s just…” He sighed, puffing out his cheeks. “It’s very sudden. And I know you. You’re not one to act without thoroughly thinking everything through.”
“Oh, trust me. I’ve thought everything through. I even made lists.”
He snorted. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I just wanted to ask as your friend. Especially after how tense you both were in the office.”
“We bicker,” I explained with a shrug. “It makes the sex all the better.”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” he said, holding his hands up.
We hugged one last time, and then they all left.
I stood to the side, offering directions to the movers on how best to pack the truck to ensure the most efficient unpacking.
Once they finished, I lingered in the mostly empty apartment and poured myself a glass of wine. They left behind the large furniture that Lucian already had, but took the small things that made this place mine. Taking a sip, I thought back to the five pros and cons lists I made before agreeing to move in with him. As much as I’d wanted to demand I stay in my place or he move in with me, it’d made more sense for me to move in with him.
His apartment was bigger.
He used his place to entertain.
His had a better view.
His had…better everything, I begrudgingly admitted.
I’d planned to buy an apartment with my own money after college—and I would have if my dad hadn’t stepped in. He’d balked at the places I’d shown him and demanded I let him cover the down payment so he could sleep at night knowing I wouldn’t be murdered. I’d let him, but I still stayed within a reasonable range. Which meant smaller and less luxurious.
Even with the pros and cons list, I still regretted leaving the little place I’d carved out for me. But just because I was leaving this apartment behind, didn’t mean I couldn’t make his apartment a piece of my own too. I’d packed every knickknack and memory I collected over the years and looked forward to finding a place for it among his austere décor.
Especially my vejigante mask. The bold colors decorating the large, horned, dragonesque face would look perfect on his wall.
I finished my wine and imagined Lucian’s face when he saw it.
With a smile bigger than I had in a while, I grabbed the mask and headed to his apartment.
Correction: our apartment.
* * *
LUCIAN
“What the hell is that thing?”
She entered with her chin high, looking regal as hell as she walked in like she owned the place. Like a queen entering her domain.
A queen clutching a giant, colorful dragon face looking thing. The multiple horns left me wondering if it doubled as a weapon somehow.
“It’s a vejigante mask,” she said.
I shut the door behind her and blinked, trying to process what the hell she said. Part of my struggle came from the foreign word rolling off her tongue, mixing with the delicious timber of her voice. She’d mentioned her mother coming from Puerto Rico, but I’d never heard her speak Spanish. After hearing only one word that sent a thrill down my spine, I made a mental note to get her to speak more.
At my silence, she sighed in exasperation without turning back to acknowledge me. “I got it in Puerto Rico for a festival when I went with my mom. It’s a big holiday there that I like to remember, so I was hoping to find a place to hang it here.”
I looked to the demonic mask, then back to her. “Maybe in a guest room?” I offered.
She stopped at the edge of the foyer and whipped around with a glare. “No, Lucian. Not hidden away in a guest room.”
I held up my hands and took a step back.
“If you want me to move in, then that means you get everything that comes with me.” She cocked a challenging brow before continuing to the living room. “Be happy I didn’t bring my blue velvet couch. Now, that would have clashed with your décor. But if it’s too much, I can always stay at my place.”
I followed and took in the dark woods and gray fabrics, biting back a laugh when I imagined a blue velvet couch standing stark against the monotone colors the interior decorator chose for me. Aspen stroked bold red fingernails along the modern couch and glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. Sparks of victory flashed in the depths of her eyes, taking my silence as shock and assuming she won some imagined battle.
“Aspen,” I said, eager to dismiss any notions.
She stopped her perusal of my bland furniture and fully faced me.
My thoughts stuttered to a halt as I took her in. She stood out more than the blue couch ever could. Her bronze skin encased in light, wide leg jeans and a splash of vibrant colors on her Journey T-shirt. Her dark hair pulled back on each side with red clips. She looked more casual than I’d ever seen her and just as stunning as when she joined me at the Berkshire.
“Yes?” she inquired—my silence stretching on too long.
With a blink, I refocused on proving a point and offered a smirk of my own in return. “If your sunshine attitude hasn’t deterred me yet, then your bright ass furniture won’t either.”
Her lips flattened as her eyes rolled back.
I smiled harder.
Satisfied with my amount of gloating, I moved past her and called back. “You can leave your vay-he mask down here, and we’ll find a prime position for it. But first, I’ll show you around.”
“It’s vejigante,” she corrected, teasing me again with that alluring accent, and followed me up the stairs.
“You saw the downstairs, as it is mostly open. There are guest rooms at the end of each hall if you turn left or right off the foyer. Up here is another seating area and a library with billiards. If you go right off the stairs, there is a guest room and my office,” I explained as we walked past the rooms and gestured to the others as we headed down to the end of the hall. “And this is my room. Or I should say, our room.” I opened the door and extended my arm wide, allowing her to enter first. However, she stood still at the threshold, staring.
“I assumed I’d have my own room,” she said softly.
My jaw snapped shut, biting back a sarcastic retort. At first, I took the comment as her usual stubbornness, but when I paused to take her in, I noticed her eyeing the room like it was some kind of trap. Like if she stepped through, she’d be stuck in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.
And I hated it. I wished the comment was her snarky attitude digging in because she could. Anything other than her just not wanting to share a space with me.
The thought split, creating two opposing emotions. One that scoffed with indifference, uncaring where she wanted to spend her time as long as I got what I needed. The other curling around a strike of pain that resembled too closely the rejection I felt when Daria left me.
The discomfort alarmed me, and I quickly shoved it aside with the assurance that I didn’t care what the hell anyone else wanted. I reminded myself that I wasn’t the young man who craved a wife who loved him unconditionally. I reminded myself that it wasn’t possible to feel that emotion because I didn’t allow anyone close enough to hurt me that way again.
Shoving the feeling aside like it never existed, I smiled and explained, “As my wife, I will not have you sleeping in the guest room.”
“You’re really going through with this real marriage thing, aren’t you?”
“At any point in our conversations, have I ever wavered from that statement?”
“I guess not,” she admitted begrudgingly.
“And despite my different views of what our marriage may look like, I can assure you sharing a room with you as my wife is something I very much imagined.”
She sucked in a slow breath, her chest rising to press against the thin material of her shirt. When she turned her gaze to me, heat lingered in the depths, but the trepidation that kept her from stepping in dominated it.
“I understand that we should be sharing a room if we will be doing the real marriage we agreed on…” She paused and rolled her lips between her teeth. “But I just left my own apartment and most of my belongings to move in with a man who can barely stand me. Or who I can barely stand. Can I have a little time to adjust before we dive headfirst into everything?”
“You had no problem sleeping with me the last time you were here.” I made the suggestive comment to ease the tension pouring off her. I said it lightly to cover the returning twinge to my chest.
She laughed. “I barely remember. I was so exhausted by the time you carried me to bed.”
Pride had my lip twitching into a subtle curve, remembering how thoroughly I’d worked her over. As soon as she saw the smirk, she rolled her eyes, but I caught her own lips pursing, as if to hold back her own smile.
“You can have the bedroom down the hall,” I conceded.
Her shoulders lowered in small increments from around her ears as she sighed. “Thank you.”
Despite the unusual circumstances of how we reached this point together, I didn’t want her to continue thinking of me as a man she could barely stand. And to be honest, our sexual chemistry—among other things I refused to acknowledge—made it more than easy to stand her. I wanted her to know it so we could move past this tension that kept her in another room. I wanted her to feel comfortable enough to settle into the simple married life I kept telling her I wanted. If that meant allowing her space for a couple weeks, then so be it.
I wanted to gloat about being the bigger man making concessions, but I figured that would hurt my cause. Instead, I pushed us deeper into familiar lighter comments and playful eye rolls.
“Even if you’ll be staying in the guest room— for now —maybe you can keep your things in the master closet, so you don’t have to move them over later. Especially since I worked so hard to clear out space for you.”
Her brows rose and chin dipped with sarcastic impress.
“Would you like to come take a look, or do you fear that as soon as you cross the threshold, you’ll never be free again?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you to lay some trap just because you can. It would explain why you didn’t throw a fit about me not staying in your room,” she muttered playfully.
“Why, Miss Quinn,” I mock gasped. “I’m a grown man. I would never throw a fit.”
She released an inelegant snort and walked into the room, leaving me to follow behind her with a growing smile.
However, the smile slipped when she entered the large walk-in closet and froze, her nose scrunched and brows furrowed. “Oh…it’s…umm…”
“How is this not enough space?” I deadpanned, guessing at the issue.
Her defensive gaze snapped to mine, where I leaned against the square dresser dominating the center of the area. “I have a lot of clothes.”
“You’re going to be very disappointed by the guest room closet then.”
“I guess you just don’t have what it takes to provide something big enough for me.” She shrugged and blinked wide, innocent eyes that still managed to issue a challenge.
“Oh, princess,” I crooned, taking my time with slow steps to close the space between us. She didn’t back up despite the tension holding her stiff and the increasing rise and fall of her chest. Instead, she tipped her head back, holding my stare with that fiery glint. “We both know that I have something much more than big enough for you.”
I cupped her cheek and dragged my thumb along her bottom lip, reminding us both of how much she struggled to take all of me down her throat.
I held my breath as her lips parted and waited for her to lean into me. I held my breath and hoped for her tongue to taste me. I held my breath and yearned for more.
Instead, with a blink of her eyes, she doused the growing fire. She pulled away and headed out. “I should get some things settled before bed,” she announced casually over her shoulder. “I see the movers placed the boxes in here, but I have a travel bag I packed my essentials in. I can move those boxes into the guest room later.”
She’d made it all the way out the bedroom before I finally yanked myself out of my stupor and dropped my hand from where it still hovered in the air where she used to be. I followed, deciding between ordering her to stop and kneel for me or to brush it aside and keep the night easy.
My cock more than twitched in my pants, half hard just from a hint of the memory of her mouth around me, making a demand of its own.
Yet, I ignored it because a new curiosity pulled me in another direction. In our time together, we bickered and made jokes, but most of them were aimed at each other to cause harm. Since she arrived, our conversation turned more playful in a way I hadn’t expected.
I liked it, and the curiosity of seeing how long it would last made my decision for me.
I watched her disappear into the guest room and followed, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for her to stop fluttering around. Waiting to see how she would react. Hoping my curiosity didn’t lead me astray.
“Can I help you?” She looked at me with raised brows and pinched lips. “Or is stalking part of this vision of marriage you have?”
“Hardly,” I laughed. “I was merely waiting to ask you what you would like for dinner. I figured we could order in, and I’d let you choose what we ate to christen your first night here.”
“Oh, well…”
I smiled, enjoying watching her fumble over her words when she didn’t get the sharp retort she expected from me.
“I mean,” she started. She looked away and shrugged a single shoulder. All innocent actions. However, I caught the curve of her lips before she could hide it, and I stiffened. “I was kind of hoping you would cook me a nice welcome dinner. Something to really solidify our domesticated marriage.”
“Oh, really?” I asked with a raised brow.
“Yeah, I’d even let you borrow an apron. It’s got a rainbow of flowers on it. I think it would look great on you,” she teased.
“Of course it would. I look good in everything.” That earned me a deadpanned stare. “And I hate to disappoint you, but my refrigerator is lacking for ingredients, so we will have to settle for ordering in. Anywhere you want.”
She rolled her eyes with a heady sigh. “Fiiiiine. I guess.”
Finished with her exaggerated dramatics, she giggled and delivered a smile that almost knocked me off the doorframe. I’d seen smirks, evil smiles, smiles of retribution, smiles of relief, and many more. But I couldn’t remember ever seeing a smile like that. A smile that wrinkled her nose. A smile that lifted her eyes with her cheeks. A smile that consumed her face.
A smile like she liked me.
I mentally recoiled from the thought that left me sounding like a teenage girl desperate for attention. What the hell was wrong with me?
Standing upright, I shook off the odd sensation and pushed to end the moment, done with my curiosity. “So, any ideas?”
“Have you ever had Raíces?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Nnnng,” she groaned, and I almost reconsidered my decision to not order her to kneel. “They have some of my favorite food. The pollo asado and mofongo are so good.”
“Then I’ll order from there while you get settled.”
I told her to send me what she wanted and got the hell out before I changed my mind, or any more random feelings emerged.