Chapter 21 #2
“Okay.” I bit back anything else stupid that I might have been thinking about saying. “It was just a thought-”
“A stupid one! And a thought I’m tired of hearing!” She spun away from me and went into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
My mouth started to form the word ‘what’ so I could ask the empty room what the fuck had just happened, but I just kind of got stuck there because I had no answer for myself.
I hadn’t brought up her quitting her job before.
Someone else must have though, because if she was tired of hearing it, that meant someone was saying it.
I wasn’t dumb enough to say that more than once when that was her reaction though.
My only other guess was maybe her family?
Or was it the ‘bad idea’ voice in her head?
Dad had warned me about this, warned all of us.
Women had this voice in their head giving them bad ideas, the type that made them angry.
At you. The voice, Dad warned us, was extremely dangerous, because in her head it sounded like your voice.
So when you speak that same bad idea out loud, now you’ve been badgering her with it, making her very, very angry.
I didn’t even have a ‘maybe this is something we shouldn’t be doing’ kind of voice.
Fuck, that would’ve been super useful to have growing up.
Any kind of voice in there helping out would be great.
But nope. Nothing. I didn’t even have a damn cricket hanging around to tell me when a decision I was making was a dumbass one.
Though I wasn’t sure, in this case, whether that little voice in Devyn’s mind was helping me out.
It seemed like maybe it was a hindrance this time.
Kind of like when she had a dream at two A.M. where I was mean to her, so she wakes me up, yells at me, then ices me out for three days.
Yeah, that had already happened. That had left me bemused for a full twenty-four hours, then frustrated as I tried to figure out how to fix shit I hadn’t even done.
Being with Devyn was a trip. But a fun one so far.
She made life interesting and I wouldn’t want her any other way.
I got up and got a beer out of the fridge, then sat there, wondering how the hell I was supposed to make this better when I’d pissed her off so damn bad?
And I didn’t even fully know why. I drank the beer slowly to kill some time.
I was just about to go remind her about dinner when she slammed her way back out of the bedroom. She’d changed.
My eyes were glued to her. Jesus. She was in some black short…
things. They were a bit fancier than the jean shorts from earlier and made her legs look longer.
She had on some kind of…sequin tank top-style shirt that plunged down between her breasts.
And she was wearing a pair of stilettos that made my dick harder than a brick.
Was she trying to fucking kill me?
“You look…great,” I gulped, trying to keep my tone neutral and my body under control.
She glared over at me as she fussed with her hair, which was up in a high pony tail on top of her head.
The ends were curled and she’d put make-up on.
She’d been in that room for maybe fifteen minutes while I’d had that beer.
Had she shape shifted? That had to be the only possible answer, right?
She’d gone from relaxed and comfortable looking to…
sex kitten. Like she’d plucked that image right out of my fantasies and was planning to torture me with it.
“You need to change,” she informed me. Her tone was cold enough to freeze water.
I looked down at my t-shirt, cut, jeans, and boots. “The dinner is here at the clubhouse.” And we had about forty-five minutes until we needed to be down there. Sitting around in uncomfortable clothes while we waited sounded like hell. But again, I didn’t want to rile her up further.
“I know, but Camila asked for us to dress up.”
“Oh. Right.” Shit, Relay was going to hate that.
Then I tilted my head because I had to think if I even had any ‘nice’ clothes.
I got up, rinsed the beer bottle, dropped it in the recycling bin, then went to go check.
I came out in one of the few button up shirts I owned and a pair of slacks.
Easier to keep the peace and put on the damn clothes.
Devyn surveyed me. She was looking me over the same way Dad, me, and my brothers looked over a property we were about to renovate. Cataloging every flaw, every detail. “You look good.”
“Thanks,” I told her with a grin. She didn’t smile back. “I didn’t mean to piss you off, Dev.”
“I know.”
I had three options. Apologize. Let her go down to dinner angry. Or…
My feet were moving before I even knew I’d made the decision. She was tense. Worried. Angry. And so wired I had a feeling I knew what would defuse her a bit.
She squeaked out a protest as I grabbed her and pushed her up against the closest wall.
I’d been gentle about it, but also firm.
The move had surprised her enough that she hadn’t fought back.
She stood there, stunned as I kissed her, before she melted in my grip and kissed me back.
She poured all her frustration into it and when she bit my bottom lip, I grinned.
She wanted it a little angry and rough? I could handle that. I grabbed her ass with one hand and hiked her up until she could wrap those long legs around my waist. Fuck I wish I had a picture of the way those sexy shoes looked crossed together behind me.
I was still holding onto her ass and my other hand was planted on the wall next to her head. Looking down into her eyes, I forced myself to ask, “You sure?”
Giving her the option to stop might actually fucking kill me, but I wasn’t going to take advantage.
This needed to be her decision. We’d been dancing around each other all damn week and this had been coming.
I’d known it, though I wasn’t sure she had.
But she was getting more and more wound up each day and tonight she’d snapped.
She looked me right in the eyes and used both hands to rip my shirt open. Buttons scattered.
Taking a huge breath, I searched for patience. “If you want me to fuck you, Baby Girl, you’re going to have to-”
“Bolo,” she all but snarled. “If you don’t take me into your room and make me orgasm I’m going to lose my mind. I’m worried, mad, and…I don’t even know why I’m so mad,” she huffed. “But I need-”
“I know exactly what you need,” I told her, then shut her up by locking our lips together. “I’ll take care of it,” I told her as I trailed my lips away from her mouth and over her neck.
Sure, I’d inadvertently pissed her off earlier, but I wasn’t about to do it again. And I wasn’t going to fuck this up by asking any more questions. She wanted—and damn well needed—a release of all those emotions she’d bottled up. I was happy to help with that.