Chapter 9 #2
“The…sheets.” My mind finally caught up. I looked over my shoulder at Sloane and realized that meant she was a virgin. “I’ll see you in the morning,” I told Jacob, before walking away from them.
I was all twisted up inside as I took Sloane by the hand and all but dragged her back to my place.
My dick was hard—not something I was especially proud of—but the idea that no one else had touched her was sexy as hell.
But I also hadn’t been with a virgin since Mary Beth Hallbecker and that had been my junior year of high school.
I hadn’t planned to…consummate…shit. This poor woman didn’t know me from Adam and here we were expected to not only have sex—my cock throbbed, reminding me that it was in favor of that outcome—but to show the evidence of it. Fucking barbarians.
“What’s the matter?” Sloane huffed as she tried to keep up with me as my long legs ate up the distance between the hall and my new home.
I slowed slightly so she wasn’t struggling to stay beside me in her long white gown. “Sorry. Just needed some space.”
Her worried blue eyes watched me speculatively. “What did Ethan want?”
My jaw flexed and I shook my head. “Don’t worry about him.”
She gave a bitter laugh as we entered my house. “I wish I had that luxury. I’ve been worrying about him for my whole life.”
Looking down at her, I gave into the impulse that’d been riding me all night and tucked one long curl behind her ear. My fingertips trailed down her neck. Her silky smooth skin was cool to the touch despite the relatively warm night.
“Why aren’t you married?”
“I am,” she whispered.
“Before now,” I clarified with a shake of my head. “I figured-”
“No one wanted me.” Her lips twisted into a small grin. “Apparently I’m a bit of a troublemaker.”
“Apparently.” My own grin widened.
“You…don’t seem worried about that. Ethan will-”
“Leave Ethan to me. You and I will figure out what works for us.”
Her brows drew together. I reached out and brushed my thumb over the crease there.
“Why did you agree to marry me? Why did you sign the license?” I asked.
“He threatened to hurt people I cared about,” she admitted. “I had three teenagers living with me. He told me that if I didn’t marry you he’d make sure they were given to the most awful men here.”
Rage bubbled inside my gut. “What a fucking douche bag,” I snarled.
Her eyebrows shot up, shock covering her face. “You’re not what I expected,” she whispered.
“What did you expect?”
“Chet.”
A snort of disgust was out before I could stop it. “My cousin and I have nothing in common.” Ducking my head, I locked eyes with her. “Nothing.”
She gave me a hopeful smile. “Could you help me with this?” She turned and gave me her back. There were at least thirty little buttons marching down her back.
I started at the top and with each patch of skin that was revealed I grew harder.
The scars on her skin didn’t bother me, and they certainly didn’t lessen my arousal.
I only wished I could have been here to prevent her from getting them.
There wasn’t anything I could do now except make sure no one ever touched her again.
No one but me, anyway. My finger brushed lightly over her skin.
Biting back the groan of appreciation at my wife’s beauty, I finished up the task as quickly as my fumbling fingers would allow.
I was going to have to talk to her about the expectations for tonight.
Giving her time and space to get to know me would have been ideal, but I wasn’t sure how to do that and produce the required ‘proof’.
She turned again, a look of curiosity on her face. “Why is my married name not Holden?”
Butcher had convinced us that going with the truth as much as possible was the best option so I’d used my real last name.
After checking with other Derek and realizing that Ethan hadn’t done a background check on him yet—he’d done it the day he’d called me, according to Rat—we’d had enough time to have Rat switch my identity with other Derek’s.
“Chet’s mother and mine are sisters.”
“Derek Skore.” She tilted her head. “Mrs. Sloane Skore.”
I grinned at her. “Has a nice ring to it.” Something occurred to me. I knew so little about her. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
Relief eased the tightness in my chest. It would be my luck that Ethan would do something fucked up like give me a child-bride. I was glad that wasn’t an issue. I would have guessed Sloane was older based off her sensible personality.
“How old are you?” she returned the question.
“Twenty-eight.”
She gave me a smile, then headed off to the bedroom to change out of her gown.
Sometime after the ceremony some of the men had moved over the majority of her belongings and left them in my house.
Everything was boxed up neatly and I had a feeling that was what she’d been doing all day today.
I wondered if her talk with Ethan had been as much of a surprise to her as it had been for me.
Judging by her anger at the ceremony, I’d say yes.
I unbuttoned the first few buttons of my shirt and stripped off my suit coat. My back was aching, but it was beginning to scab over in a few places. Some of the deeper slashes were going to take a while, but I had nothing but time.
Grabbing a bottle of whiskey off the table—it was filled with gifts for the newlyweds—I tried not to be irritated over the fact that these people walked in and out of my space as they pleased.
That was the reason I kept the laptop locked up when I was gone.
Sitting down, being mindful of my back, I poured a glass of the liquor and waited on my new wife.