Oliver
“Do you need me to take off my shirt?” I pause outside Luna’s room when I hear a deep voice. “I don’t mind.”
I remain where I am, feeling my pulse quicken. I swear I can hear my heart beating rapidly in my ear.
“I think this works,” Luna replies.
“When there is a pretty lady who has her hands all over your body, you don’t mind making it a little easier for her.” The asshole chuckles and I feel the heat in my ears. “Truth is I get the ink so I can feel you touch me more than anything.”
That’s it, I’m done.
I push the door open the rest of the way and notice both of them looking in my direction. Luna smiles knowingly, she doesn’t even ask why I’m there, she knows.
“I think I’ll join you,” I say as I step into the room and find a chair. Pulling it up, I scoot in close, so the fucker is in my line of sight. “I enjoy watching my wife work.” I notice the way he shifts his gaze to look at her, then me, then back to Luna.
“Wife?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Wife.” Take that, fucker. I want to laugh and I can tell Luna wants to also. She won’t admit it, but she loves when I get all possessive. It may make me an ass, I may sound controlling and all that shit, but I don’t fucking care. She. Is. Mine.
Never loved another person more than I love her. She is my heart. I’d do anything for her.
“I didn’t know you were married.” The douche clears his throat.
“I don’t normally talk personal with my clients,” she says and at the same time I say, “Now you know.” It was me, staking a claim and ensuring he respect the fact from here on out.
The rest of the appointment was quiet, at least on her client’s part. I fucking talked like I was in a room full of friends. I enjoyed his discomfort, in fact it was my goal. The more he twitched and shifted around nervously the better I felt.
When he was finished and they walked toward the front to pay, I stood in the doorway of her room, leaning against the frame. My arms and elbows crossed and a smirk on my face. It was the best hour and a half I’d had all day.
“That was awful,” she says, walking past me to the room. Following behind I close the door behind us and flip the lock.
“Which part?”
“The tension.” She laughs. “It was horrible. You could have just ignored him. He’s got smaller arms than I do, and it was sweet.”
“What was sweet?” I ask, taking another step closer.
“His flirting,” she says. “It was harmless.”
Gripping her waist I lift her and she squeals. Setting her on the counter, I stop in between her thighs. “So his flirting was cute?”
“You are not jealous.” She laughs the words. “Oh my God, !”
“You need a little reminder?”
“Of what?” She is challenging me. She loves to poke the bear.
“Of why it’s not a good idea for any guy big or small, tall or short, whatever the fuck he may be, to flirt with you.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
“We’ll see about that.” He starts to unbuckle his belt, and then his jeans.
“What are you doing?”
“You,” he states, his nostrils flaring. “I’m doing you, babe.”
My words are swallowed when his lips cover mine and he kisses the sass right out of me.