They’re not the top of my concern, though. Music still pumps from the ballroom, but I need Karessa. I didn’t think it’s possible, but not knowing where to find her is making me miss her. Dondi stops me and pauses my quest.
“Where’s my sweet pea? We want to tell her goodnight.”
I scan the room again, making sure I keep track of Elmer. He’s guilty of a lot, but not Karessa’s absence. He’s trying to hide it, but he’s also scanning for her.
“That’s a good question. I’m beginning to believe she went home, but how?”
Emmeline “Mellie” LeClaire’s fine ass appears in a golden body contouring dress that makes her look more like an MILF than the mother of the bride. There’s a reason the LeClaire sisters are so easy on the eyes. Karessa’s eyes mirror her mother’s and the original set fixes me with a worried stare.
“She’s not in the bathroom either.” She runs her nervous fingers through her hair. “You don’t think…”
“No, ma’am he’s over there,” I assure her.
“If she’d just taken the money…”
“What money?” Dondi asks.
Mellie frowns at Dondi. Her manicure glitters in the light as she wrings her hands.
“Once I realized I married an idiot, I offered my baby one-million dollars and her passport to go stay with my sister in England. But she said she can handle it. I kept the contingency plan just in case your stupid plan didn’t work.” She rolls her eyes at Dondi, then focuses on me. “Find my baby before I kill both of you.” Her angry stalk looks like a runway walk.
“You’re still in the doghouse, I see.”
Dondi smirks like his beautiful wife didn’t just threaten to kill him.
“I’ve lived with her and her three clones for over thirty years.” He still looks after her with the love he still feels for her. “Being threatened is a way of life. You’ll see.”
I study him for a second. “Meaning?”
“Meaning from the moment she said ‘I do’ her accounts and access has been restored to their original standing. I also handed her the keys to her car.” He pats my shoulder. “Good luck out there.”
Her car. She didn’t, did she?
Thinking back to the last thing I said to her, I know it’s possible. I can’t check because I don’t know what kind of car she drives. Esme is near the dancefloor laughing too hard at whatever Markos is saying. I grab her wrist and spin her to me and pretend to dance to a song I can’t hear.
“Um, sir. You’re cockblocking.”
“Where’s your sister?” She glances at the youngest who’s sitting in the corner, looking as flawless as the rest of them, but she’s wearing glasses and reading a book, telling the world she wants to be left alone. “Not Imala. My wife.”
She raises a sculpted eyebrow. “Look at you being all possessive. Your wife was last seen dancing with your cousin.”
“What kind of car does she have?”
“Wow. What did y’all talk about for a month?”
“Not cars,” I impatiently supply.
“Maybe you should’ve…”
I tighten my grip on her and steal her breath. Some of my irritation slips when I speak again.
“Listen, Sprite. Tell me what the fuck I need to know or all throw your little ass over my shoulder in front of all high society and carry you out of here. I’m sure I can generate enough talk for us to be in a twisted love triangle by the time we make it to the parking lot. Good luck with dating after that.”
Her eyes grow in horror then narrows to slits. “Respect. You win this round, you big ass bully. Sleep with one eye open. She has a white Range Rover.”
“Any special stops if she happens to be upset?”
“What did you do that fast,” she challenges me in a whisper.
“Stay in your lane, sis. Just answer the question.”
“She likes the dessert bar in town near our office.”
“Is dessert her comfort food?”
Parts of her rant from the night before reminded me to ask Esme that question.
“Yes, and no. If she’s a little upset (mad or sad) general dessert, she’s not picky, hence the dessert bar. DEFCON level bitch means ‘I have PMS bring brownies with no nuts’. And ‘I’m having a terrible day I just want to go to sleep and try again tomorrow’ means she wants white cheddar mac and cheese with bacon.”
“Got it. Congratulations, you’re the host of the event.”
Spinning her out of my hold, I’m gone before anyone can realize it.
Chapter 12
Karessa
Planning a wedding is a lot of work. I went into it aware of the work involved since I am the wedding and event planner for most of high society. But solely planning the wedding and being the bride is a nightmare. Sure, everything worked out, and it was a beautiful ceremony, but knowing I now share a permanent home with an asshole who’s stuck on withholding sex is enough to infuriate me. I’m a little jealous of Ainslee’s ability to display her vexation with Jagger publicly. The lord knows if I were wired that way, I would have Homer Simpson choked the hell out of that big ‘in name only’ jackass. The same jackass who fooled me into thinking he was letting me in only to convert back to Hell.
I take another shot of spiked chocolate and drizzle it on the tier of vanilla raspberry cake I swiped from the wedding. I wasn’t going to lose my favorite tier because I’m over the groom. He and the rest of the wedding can kiss my ass.
“You know, the bride is supposed to run away before she gets married.”
Damn, his sexiness still has the power to stun me, but the desire to throat punch him remains.
“Why do you care? I left you alone just like you wanted.”
“People were worried about you.”
Yeah, everyone but him.
“Don’t do that again. I don’t like not knowing where you are,” he complains as he grabs my fork and steals a bite of my dessert.
“Why do you care? You don’t want me around.”
He puts the fork down, pushes the plate aside, and leans across the table to get into my space. The memories of the way his lips felt on my body has me shifting in my seat.
“The why doesn’t matter. Don’t make disappearing a habit. Understand?”
“Fuck you,” I retort. Grabbing the only thing that gives me pleasure, I continue to eat.
Oran lost his jacket and tie between now and the last time I saw him dancing with my sister. His open buttons make me fantasize about the chest I haven’t seen naked yet. Sitting back in his chair, he slightly spread his legs, sinking deeper into his seat.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re mad, I said no.”
Yes. “I’m mad that you make decisions for both of us. I am an adult with my own opinions.”
“That’s cute. You wouldn’t give a damn about my decision-making skills if my beard was soaked from your pussy.” The aforementioned body part tingles as his steel eyes pierce me, trapping me as he moves into the chair next to me. He’s so close, I get another hit of his cologne. It’s been teasing me all day. Even angry, his nearness makes me wet. His hand gripping my bare thigh through the split with his fingers digging possessively into my flesh doesn’t help. His breath fanning my neck is just plain unfair. “Would you question my decisions if I stick my fingers inside of you right here and make you cum on them?” I turn to look away but he grabs my chin forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Would’ve still been mad if I’d fucked you so dirty that my name was the only word in your vocabulary?”
I open my mouth to bitch about his audacity, but damn I want everything he’d just said. His grin is wicked when I remain silent.
“That’s what I thought,” he confirms then lets me go. “Don’t question my decisions.” He stands up, towering over me. “Be home in an hour, Mrs. Hale. You don’t want me coming back to get you.”
He smiles gently at an elderly lady as he holds the door for her. I watch through the window as he walks to his car, fucking whistling
like he doesn’t have a care in the world. My eye twitches. I’ve balled up my slice of cake, the bread of it oozes through my fingers by the time I realize what I’m doing.
This mutherfucker.
“Okay, Mr. Hell,” I mumble to myself. “You want to play, let’s play.”
Chapter 13
Oran
I know Karessa is mad. No, she’s pissed. I’ve showered and changed by the time she arrives. If looks had powers, hers would have frozen me into place. I know she’ll retaliate, I just don’t know how or when. Maybe her anger will take her mind off sex. Kicking off her heels, she disappears into the trophy room and returns with her clothes bag. Her once flowing hair is now in a messy bun, and without a word she turns and presents me with her back to unzip her dress.
“This again,” I tease her with the memory from the ballroom.
“Nope.” Her answer is cool yet slightly haughty. “You were perfectly clear. Name only, right?”
“Right,” I agree as I wait for her to show her hand.
I get halfway done unzipping her dress, and she moves away from me.
“Right. We’re two adults who can perfectly make decisions without consulting the other. Like you deciding we won’t have sex.”
“True.”
I know she’s twisting my words. I just have to wait to see the outcome.
“Good.” Karessa goes right toward the master instead of left to the bathroom she’s been using. “My first decision as an independent adult is that you can be your own fucking trophy. I hope your air mattress supports your big ass.”
A smile creeps across my lips. I see what she did there. Twice since she’s donned that wedding ring she’s dropped some variation of fuck. This is what Dondi meant. Some of the fire that simmered in her pretty irises is seeping out. At this rate, I’ll get the unfiltered version. The thought of seeing her free and raw makes my dick hard.
It’s in our best interest that I sleep on the air mattress, but things just got interesting. I can’t let it slide. Taking my time, I savor my drink, letting the alcohol burn its way down my throat and calm me from the inside. I’ve never wanted a woman so badly and it has nothing to do with her being considered off limits.
When I get to my bedroom door, I listen for a moment. Silence. Karessa might be in bed already. The door knob doesn’t budge when I turn it. Locked. Chuckling softly, I shake my head at how cute she is right now. Using my shoulder, I hit the door with enough force for it to splinter then swing open.
Karessa is sitting in the center of my bed like she belongs, the soft scent of the soap she used in the shower filters into the room, but that’s not what has me rooted at the door. Karessa’s spaghetti strap night shirt is lacy and see-through, her brown areolas and pert nipples are visible and the outline of her bikini underwear makes me breathe a little easier.
“Get out,” she demands like she pays bills here or can beat me in a fight.
I have to give her bravado points. It’s damn sexy.
I’m across the room in what feels like two strides. I grab her by the neck and take the kiss I’ve been wanting since the last. It’s rough and unapologetic. We moan as when I bite her bottom lip. I let her go, causing her to fall back on the bed.
“Make me,” I challenge her.
“I’ve decided it’s my room now. Run along, Hell.”
“I can pick your ass up and toss you on the air mattress in the other room, can you do the same?”
“Try me.” The conviction in her voice has me heeding her warning, and my dick loves it.
Down boy, it’s not about sex right now
“Be careful what you wish for,” I warn her anyway.
“Trust me, I know all about that bullshit.”
Tilting my head, I smile at her as I remember something.
“That statement has nothing to do with you wishing to marry me when you were younger, does it?”
Her face would have been a wonderful screensaver. Instead of responding, Karessa rolls on her side, giving me her back. Her perfect ass cheeks peek out from under the lace. I want to bite them again.
“You’re not respecting my decision,” she sings like there are consequences. I’d love to see what they are.
“If you make a decision, make sure you have the power to enforce it.”
Her face isn’t visible, but her tone is very similar to when she told me to try her. “What makes you think I don’t have the power to enforce it?”
Ignoring her, I lie down on my side of the bed and pull her close. “Well, I decided we should cuddle. It is our wedding night, wife.”
“In name only. Cuddle yourself.”
I pull her close once I turn off the light. Her soft body makes me wish we’d cuddled a long time ago.
“I just want to verify, are you knowingly ignoring my decisions?”
“Pretty much,” I retort near her ear. “Cuddling feels good.”
“I’m so happy for you. Shut it. I’m trying to sleep.”
She gave in too easily, I should be on guard, but it’s been an exhausting day and I quickly drift into sleep.
* * *
Four slices of turkey bacon, three eggs, two slices of sourdough toast with apricot jelly, and one cup of orange juice or coffee. That’s been my standard breakfast almost every morning since Karessa moved in. Waking up, I stretch from some of the best sleep I’ve had in a long time and inhale the scent of the missus cooking.
Jumping out of bed, I perform my morning routine and make my way to the kitchen. The island, counters, and stove are all clean and empty with no food in sight.
“Good morning,” Karessa greets me far perkier than she was the night before.
“Morning,” I grumble as I look around. “I thought you were cooking.”
“I did. Then I ate it,” she informs me. Her perky ponytail bounces when she whips her head back to the computer screen.
“Okay, why didn’t you make me a plate?”
She grimaces and looks up at me, baring her teeth, silently saying, ‘This is awkward.’
“Those are wifely duties.” Her answer is dismissive as she continues whatever she’s doing.
“You are my wife.”
This time, she doesn’t look up from the screen. “In name only.”
“Is that supposed to be one of the consequences?” I laugh. “I was feeding myself before I met you.”
Her new look, eyes bucking with her head tilted, is Attitude for “and?” Karessa sweeps her hand toward the kitchen. “Then continue.”
I don’t like her dismissive attitude. I hate being ignored, but this is what I want. Isn’t in? If we continue on like this, we’ll be able to make the six-month mark with ease. Knowing that still doesn’t stop me from crossing the room to get to her.
“What the fuck are you looking at that’s so interesting.”
“House hunting,” she announces like it’s normal to house hunt the day after your wedding. “Since I’m just a trophy wife in name only, there’s no point in us living together in your empty ass house.”
It ensures my dad can’t get to you.
“Read your prenup, we live as a normal married couple.”
“Most married couples of our stature have more than one home, right?”
“Right,” I concede.
“So you stay here and I can go to our other house.”
“You’re proposing a separation on the second day of marriage?”
“Is it?” I hate the high-pitched tone she uses for the question. “I mean you said at our wedding we aren’t an actual couple, so we can’t separate.”
I chew the inside of my jaw to keep from losing my shit. “You know I can block most of your transactions.”
“Which is why I’d be Jagger’s neighbor.”
“You really think my best friend will help you?”
“Your best friend now has a wife.”
“As long as you’re Mrs. Hale-”
She holds up a finger to stop my sentence. “I’m still L
eClaire. I haven’t changed my name and I don’t plan on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You got me fucked up if you think I’m changing my name for a ‘name only’ marriage to a guy who doesn’t respect my decisions.” She checks her watch and bounces out of her chair. “You almost made me late for spin class.”
She walks her tight yoga pants and sports bra wearing ass out the door leaving me to stare after her.
It won’t be easy for her to find her keys next time.
Chapter 14
Oran
“Have you seen my keys, Hell?” Karessa calls out from the living room where she’s pulling cushions off the couch.
Yup. They’re in my safe and you don’t know the code.
“No!” I yell my lie as I make myself some popcorn. She doesn’t know it yet, but we will have a movie night.
All week we’ve been fucking up each other’s daily lives. No meals for me. I called to cancel her nails, hair, and spa appointments. She boxed my trophies. I took the tires off her car. She used one of my cars. I told Jagger to keep Ainslee busy to block her move. She put little padlocks on all my suits and forced me to go to work dressed casually until I could pick up my dry cleaning during lunch. Now, I’ve thrown all the car keys in my safe.
While it’s fun, I would like to just relax tonight. No. I need to relax tonight.
Grabbing the popcorn, some candy, and a bottle of alcohol, I make my way into the living room. Karessa glares at me as I set the items on the table then fix the cushions she messed up with her search.
“You hid them, didn’t you?” She accuses me.
I pat the couch next to me. “Let’s have a movie night.” It’s the same tradition I do every year. I usually do it alone, but I want Karessa to watch them with me. “Please,” I add when she doesn’t move.
She studies me for a beat, then acquiesces. “I know you did something to my keys, but I’ll let it slide for now.” She snuggles in closer to me and settles the blanket across our laps. “What are we watching?”
Hale on Earth (Arrangement Series Book 2) Page 6
