Chapter 12
The prospects arrived with Becks’ things shortly after Lucky and Scotty left to head to Lucky’s art studio. They would also be stopping by Aunt Angel’s tattoo studio to drop off the money into the swear jar.
Ghost got pissed when Becks tried to help carry the boxes into the house, which in turn ended up pissing Becks off.
“Who do you think packed all my stuff up into those boxes?” she shot at him, hands on her hips.
“You,” he answered, countering, “because I wasn’t around to do it for you.”
Becks’ eyes narrowed on him. “There’s a line in the sand between being chivalrous and being overbearing, and you’re toeing that line, Ghost. I won’t be some damsel in distress who needs her man’s help to do every little thing.”
The prospects dutifully carried in the boxes while simultaneously ignoring the argument going on in the living room.
Most of her belongings were going upstairs to their bedroom anyway.
She didn’t own furniture or kitchen supplies, because she’d lived with her mom.
Boxes marked as picture frames or mementos were the ones she asked to be left downstairs.
Ranger had the first-floor bedroom, but there were two empty bedrooms upstairs.
While talking with Scotty during breakfast, Becks explained how she made sound effects for movies as her job.
Scotty thought that was incredible, and asked to see her studio, likely thinking she had one like Lucky did.
It made Ghost think about the empty bedrooms, and wondered if perhaps it was time to do something with them.
As miserable as the reality was, Melanie wasn’t coming back to reclaim her old bedroom.
He should ask Cage if he could soundproof one of them to become a studio for Becks.
Maybe then she wouldn’t need to quit her job completely and could work remotely part-time with the occasional commute.
Plus, it would give her an area to record her podcast, and Ghost was very pro any idea that kept her podcast going.
Ghost’s back stiffened. “You think I see you as helpless?” he asked, both angered and surprised by the accusation.
“Don’t open the door, don’t pay for anything, don’t lift a fricken box…” Becks listed off on her fingers. “I didn’t know marrying you would come with restrictions, Ghost.”
“Get out.”
Becks froze, the blood draining from her face. “What?”
The prospects stopped mid-step as Ghost panned slowly toward them. “Get. Out,” Ghost ordered again, louder this time.
Boxes hit the floor as boots squeaked in their haste to leave. The door slammed closed behind them, and Becks just barely kept from jumping.
In the same moment that Ghost rounded on Becks, he pulled his knife from his pocket. “You have to the count of ten to strip or I cut those clothes off you. Can’t bitch and complain they’re your only clothes now,” he gestured towards the ceiling.
Becks’ curvy form filled out his Navy shirt beautifully. Her jeans were one of the pairs he’d bought her Sunday morning and had delivered to the hotel, and her heels were from her wedding outfit. She claimed they were comfortable, and who was he to argue when they looked fucking hot on her.
He saw her chest rise and fall rapidly at her surprise, but otherwise she did not move. Keeping the blade at his side, he also stayed in place. “One.”
Becks’ eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly,” he growled. “Two.”
She looked around the room like she was contemplating running.
Ghost’s jaw ticked as he realized he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea of hunting her. “Try it,” he goaded. “I dare you. Three.”
Becks took a step back from him, placing her right at the edge of the couch.
“Four.”
As if realizing she was running out of time, Becks’ hands went to the bottom hem of his Navy shirt.
Though they shook as she lifted it over her head, he could see that she was not scared.
Good. Fear was not his intent, and the way her eyes dilated and her breath came out in ragged gasps, she was as aroused as he was.
The shirt hit the floor between them.
“Good girl,” he praised. Then he pointed the knife at her bra. “Keep going. Five.”
Becks lifted her hands to her chest, and Ghost was surprised to realize that the clasp was in the front. He kept his face blank as he thanked the universe he made her undress herself, instead of him fumbling to do it.
The bra hit the floor next, but he refused to be distracted by Becks’ large tits. They were fucking beautiful, and he wanted nothing more than to worship them. But he had a point to make and couldn’t risk getting sidetracked.
“Six.”
Becks hastily sat on the couch so she could undo the straps of her heels.
He gave her an extra second to remove them because she was making an effort before he said, “Seven.”
Getting to her feet, Becks put her hands to her jeans and undid the button.
“Eight.”
Her eyes widened slightly and she made a small hiccupping noise as she hurried to wiggle them down over her hips.
“Nine.”
She stepped out of her jeans and dropped her panties in a smooth motion.
Ghost stopped his countdown, and put the pocketknife away. “Cutting it close, don’t you think?” He approached her, cupping his pussy. “Just as I thought,” he smiled, smug. “You’re soaked, baby.”
Becks raised her chin, refusing to be cowed. He liked that, her spunk. He might push her and win, but she still pushed back. “You know damn well that your bossiness turns me on, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I am not some damsel, Ghost.”
He breached her folds, feeling the wet heat surround his fingers. “You’re right,” he agreed, rubbing slow circles over her clit. “You’re my wife.”
Her voice shook as she argued, “You say that like that gives you power over me. What happened to being my humble servant?”
Ghost watched her eyes carefully. “You think I’m not? Carrying you, washing you, cooking for you, providing for you…? Would you rather wait on me? I’ll sit my ass on the couch and you can bring me a beer before you go scrub the kitchen floor?”
Becks swallowed hard, and when she started to sway, lifted a hand onto his forearm to help steady her. “That’s… That’s not what I’m saying.”
He pressed forward, dipping his middle finger inside her wet cunt.
“You think I do these things for you because I see you as weak? Some helpless woman who’s not strong enough, so I have to do these tasks for you?
Do you think I look at you and roll my eyes because now I have the ol’ ‘ball and chain’ that’ll threaten my weak masculinity? ”
She hastily shook her head as she widened her stance. “No. No, I don’t think that.”
“Did you not think it is my privilege to do these things for you? That I do them to show you the respect that you deserve, not just as a woman but as my wife? Did you not stop to think that perhaps my life now revolves around your happiness, that I won’t be happy unless you are?
That my sole focus for every second of every day from the moment I kissed you in that church until the day that I die is now on your happiness and safety? ”
Becks whimpered, her fingernails digging into his skin but he didn’t care. Let her mark him. He’d wear them with pride. “I… I…”
“I didn’t tell you not to answer the door if I’m home to be controlling, baby.
” He leaned into her, rubbing his nose along the shell of her ear as he added a second finger inside her wet core.
“I need to always be between you and a threat. Do you understand that? Can you possibly comprehend how much you mean to me and how utterly ruined I would be if I lost you?”
Her grip on his arm tightened. Eyes hooded, Becks leaned into him, her guttural moans growing louder as he worked his fingers in and out of her needy pussy. His own groan escaped him when she sank her teeth into his pec.
“You are entirely essential to me,” Ghost confessed into her ear.
He curled his fingers, and she practically mewled against his chest. “So I’m going to be controlling and possessive,” he proclaimed, unapologetic, as her walls spasmed around him.
He wrapped an arm around her to keep her upright when her knees buckled.
“Turns out I’m a selfish bastard, and now that I have you, I’m never letting you go, Rebel. ” He kissed her temple. “Never.”
Ghost guided Becks down to the couch. After licking his fingers clean, he settled between her thighs on his knees on the carpet. He rubbed his hands up and down her warm thighs as she worked to catch her breath.
Becks looked down her naked body at him. “You’re far too good at that.”
His smile was cheeky. “Not possible. Now, do you want to tell me where your sudden doubt and anger came from? You were perfectly fine this morning before the prospects arrived with the truck. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
Ghost hadn’t realized how much that question bothered him until she shook her head and relief swam through his soul. “No,” she assured him. “It didn’t have anything to do with the boxes. Not really, anyway,” she admitted softly.
Ghost waited, watching her patiently from his place on the floor.
Rather than answer him, though, Becks sat up a little. “Don’t you… I mean, shouldn’t I… Because you…?” she gestured to the front of his pants.
Ghost didn’t even look down, because he knew damn well what it was she saw. He wasn’t fully erect, not when he thought she might be doubting his intentions and feelings towards her, but seeing her naked like this certainly got his blood pumping.
“If we’re keeping score, then you owe me a hell of a lot more than just one.”
Becks’ cheeks flushed. “Fair enough.” She stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. “I didn’t see it.”
Ghost cocked his head to the side. “See what?”