SEVENTEEN | Bitter Brat | Tinsley
SEVENTEEN
Bitter Brat
Tinsley
M itt Morgan had some nerve, and he had me fuming. I had the limousine headed toward my apartment until I got Albert to pull a U-turn and made him promise not to go back. I wanted to defy my husband’s order of moving into his mansion so badly and not go back to his place, but a hasty, split-second decision would be careless. My impulsive behavior could cost me everything.
I hemmed and hawed all the way back to Morgan Estates. The frustrated words I wanted to scream from the limousine wouldn’t do me any good. The only person I had to blame was myself for being desperate when I should have used my common sense. But I also had my grumpy new husband to blame for this unwanted mess.
“We’re here, Mrs. Morgan,” Albert announced as we pulled up to the new place I had to call home.
I glared at the mansion with bitterness and muttered, “Don’t remind me.”
Albert added, “Mr. Morgan has arrived too.”
“Oh, goody,” I grumbled.
The snow came down heavily, blankets of it, to the point it was hard to see out the foggy window. I could barely make out Mitt in his black overcoat as he stepped out of a taxi and came toward the limousine. His expensive designer shoes disappeared from the ankles down into the snow, and I dreaded going out there. The temperature was past freezing at this point in the evening, and I felt chills thinking about the drastic drop, but this was wintertime. Cold, icy, and unpredictable. Almost as unforeseeable as Mitt knocking at my door with a black umbrella shielding him from the blizzard.
I rolled down my window. “What do you want?”
“I want to ensure my wife gets safely inside,” Mitt answered simply.
“You care about my safety after threatening me and ordering me around?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow, giving him a shit ton of sass.
Let’s face it, Mitt wanted to make a brat out of me. Well, he’d get one, and he’d deserve it.
“Yes. I want my wife safe and unharmed, even from Mother Nature herself,” Mitt replied as he reached for the door handle but didn’t pull on it. “Now, stop being a brat and roll up your window, Wife. The press is watching.”
Mitt nodded toward the other side of the street, and, sure enough, a small crowd of paparazzi had set up camp outside of Morgan Estates. They at least weren’t hounding the vehicle like a bunch of crazed animals—the extreme snowfall had kept them at bay. We just needed to live in a freaking snow globe to keep them away.
“Fine,” I mumbled with attitude and rolled up the window.
Mitt opened the door, draped his coat over my shoulders and handed me the umbrella. “Take this and follow in my footsteps.”
“So much for caring about my safety. This sweet gesture is all for the tabloids,” I said as I peered back at him.
“As much as I want the press to see us happy, I can assure you your safety has nothing to do with them,” Mitt explained as he leaned in close until his nose brushed mine. “Your well-being is my primary concern.”
Shit. Mitt was too close. But I had to maintain my composure in his dominating presence.
I managed a small laugh. “You have a damn funny way of showing it.”
“I’m a complex man, angel,” Mitt whispered against my lips. “I’m selfish and I take what I want.”
“And what do you want?” I blurted out the question before I could process another thought.
Mitt’s hazel eyes were full of intensity, blurring all reason within me. His lips were far too soft against mine, and they begged for him to kiss me. I was a goner as soon as he stepped into my bubble and popped it, exposing every layer I tried to hide from him behind it. He was too close, so nearby I could smell his woodsy warm scent, and the animalistic need in me wanted to come out to play.
“I want to get you inside before you catch a cold,” Mitt answered as he pulled away and walked.
That was close. Much too close for comfort.
My head spun for an entire minute from the heat my husband had ignited inside of me, and I felt as if I was in overdrive. The highest gear possible ran at a pace far faster than I could catch up to, and I was about to collide with reality, hitting me smack dab in the face, and I had to realize I couldn’t let my dearly beloved get to me.
I gave myself a mental shake and followed in Mitt’s footsteps. The umbrella protected me from the snowfall, and his tracks helped keep my heels from getting wet, which would lead to cold feet. The chilly temperature made me shiver, but I wasn’t nearly as cold as I could be.
Once inside, Mitt turned to me, and his hair had giant snowflakes in it. The crystals melted and made his hair wet as he ran his hand through it. His whiskers were slightly crisp from the mix of his body heat and the chill from outside. He wiped the snow from his broad shoulders and didn’t even appear to be frozen, but I shook like a leaf.
“Jesus. You’re freezing, angel,” Mitt said with concern, and he pulled me in close. “Let’s get you to my bed.”
I pushed back, my teeth chattering. “No way. I’m not sleeping in your bed.”
“Yes, you are. This is my house and my rules,” Mitt expressed as he grabbed my shoulders and moved to be at eye level with me.
I shook my head.
“No. Your stuff...” I said, shaking all over and pointing at my chest. “Is mine too.”
“But you’re my wife, and you will sleep in my bed.”
“No, I will—” My disagreement blew away and turned into a surprise yelp.
Mitt picked me right up off the floor and into his solid arms. Shocked was an understatement, and he was so damn warm. The chill running through me calmed, and my body slowed its vibrations. But I wiggled in his embrace and hit my palms against his firm chest.
“Put me down! Put me—” My disobedience turned into bewilderment as Mitt hoisted me over his shoulder.
My bare ass cheek was right beside his face and my thong was on full display. Mitt would see skin if there was a mirrored reflection on the way to his bedroom, which was where I knew he was taking me—straight to his bed—and the thought made my pussy wet.
“Such a bratty wife...” Mitt groaned as he gave my ass a swat. “Your defiant attitude makes my blood boil.”
“And you make me want to scream!” I cried out in frustration.
“Don’t worry about that, angel,” Mitt breathed against my ass cheek and bit the tender flesh. “I will make you scream in my bed.”
I pounded on Mitt’s backside all the way through the mansion and angry grunts came from me like a furious animal. I felt as furious as the Abominable Snowman trying to escape. My hair was unruly and kept getting in my face as I thrashed. The heels on my feet were long lost as I watched them tumble down the stairwell as he kept climbing the steps. I tried to move my legs, but it was no use because he held them tight. I was trapped, and the only thing I could do was irritate him. Annoy him to the point he’d let me go, and he did.
Mitt dropped me right down onto his bed.
My chest heaved as I lay on my backside—my tits bouncing with each ragged breath I took. I was fuming. How dare he treat me as he did! I was his wife, and he treated me as if I was a wild animal he had to tame.
I spat out, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I scrambled to fix my hiked-up dress, which was past my navel, but Mitt’s eyes beat me to the chase. His heated stare burned into my flesh like laser beams and left a fiery path. The burn ached and lit a fire deep in the pit of my stomach. An inferno no one could put out but him.
Mitt tilted his head and pointed at his chest. “Me? What the hell is wrong with me? What about you?”
I jumped up off the bed. “Don’t you turn this around on me! I’m not the one who got us into this mess to begin with!”
“But you gladly walked right into this marriage. Didn’t you, angel?”
“Gah!” I cried out with frustration and stomped my bare feet toward the bathroom. “I’m going to go drown myself in the bathtub just to get out of this.”
“Then I’ll have to break the damn door down and save you,” Mitt said as he walked toward his walk-in closet.
“You’re insufferable!” I yelled after him.
“And you are trying my patience,” Mitt said as he came back with a dress shirt and flung it at me. “Now go be a good girl and get dressed for bed so I can tuck my wife in.”
I slammed the door in Mitt’s face.