Only Yours (A McDade Brothers Novel Book 2)

by Scarlett Finn

  Pushing his hips against her foot, he showed he wasn’t going to bow down or break. Something about his determination fired hers. Most people were either too afraid or became putty when she played with them. Zaid pushed back; unexpected, yet invigorating. She liked it. A slap or a sexual demand would’ve been expected, instead, he was… teasing her.

  “You’re in the mood for whatever I say you’re in the mood for, wife.”

  Thrusting both her wrists together to hold them in place with just one hand, he freed his other. It slid down the sensitive flesh of her inner arm from her forearm to her breast. Pressing his palm against her, his fingers curled to squeeze her hard.

  The spirit of a gratified laugh caught in the back of her throat when he bowed to drag his teeth down the swell of her breast, into her cleavage.

  The only way she could hide the reaction of her hormones was with disdain. “Our fathers are in the next room, your brothers too. Is this any way to respect your wife in company?”

  His mouth stayed in her cleavage. “You didn’t give a damn about modesty at the reception yesterday.” When she was making out with Mariana. “Or at the wedding with the guy who married us.”

  No, that was true. Learning that he’d noticed both was interesting. It was on the tip of Whisper’s tongue to announce those instances didn’t count because they weren’t real. Except the thought brought her up short. Did that mean this was real?

  Fighting to get her wrists out of his grip caused him to squeeze her harder. “Zaid,” she said, struggling against his hold.

  Somehow he read the truth that she actually liked that he pushed her. Either that or he just didn’t care about her writhing. Whichever it was, he took her mention of his name as encouragement. He sucked her breast harder, clamping his hand over her mouth as he did, probably to silence her so she wouldn’t rouse the men in the next room.

  But Whisper wasn’t trying to encourage him. Murmuring his name was an accident, it wasn’t like she was caught up in feeling good. Actually, if she was honest, she felt more than a little ill. Not because he didn’t feel good, but because he did. Damn her, she was enjoying his tongue. Enjoying the curl of it on her flesh and the way it trailed down to the line where her bra cup cut across the mound he was pleasuring.

  His tongue began to insinuate its way between the fabric and her skin to snake closer to her nipple. The drag of a door being opened made him straighten up.

  Hauling her off the dresser, Zaid put her in front of himself. He didn’t go so far as to let their bodies touch, though Whisper couldn’t really figure out what he was up to because she was still trying to find her balance. Her father and Burl McDade came out of the office with Parker and Doran behind them. The sight of the men shifted her gear from bewildered to brazen.

  Either the men hadn’t expected to see the newlyweds, or the meeting hadn’t ended well. All of them were scowling. That didn’t prevent them from stopping to examine the couple. Her father looked her up and down like they were strangers rather than blood. Sure, he wasn’t her biggest fan, especially of late, but she didn’t think such loathing in his expression was warranted.

  Even doing everything she was told couldn’t win her his approval. “A whole night and they haven’t killed me yet, Daddy,” she said, opening her arms.

  “It’s early,” Zaid grumbled from behind her.

  Whisper chose to ignore him. “And, you’ll be so proud, I think I made a friend today too,” she said, raising a triumphant forefinger, not honestly expecting his praise. “Parker’s wife is extremely friendly… and she tastes like strawberries.”

  She just couldn’t help herself. Bosco was right. If she wasn’t sassing or shocking, Whisper didn’t know what to do with herself.

  “Whisper,” Cyrus hissed. “Have you hurt anyone?”

  “No,” she said quickly, then second guessed herself. Her chin went one way and her eyes the other. “Maybe… Does myself count?”

  “No, I don’t give a damn what you do to yourself,” he said and lunged forward to grab her arm. He hauled her away from the McDades to drag her into the hallway. “You better not be fucking this up.”

  “I’m not,” she said, rushing along in his wake, which wasn’t that easy in only one shoe. “Not on purpose.”

  “You’re being you,” he said, whipping her around to face him when they reached the front door. “You have to stop that.”

  “How do I stop being me?”

  Cyrus took his coat from a stand by the door and pulled it on. “You will stop your stupidity and play the dutiful wife like you were told.”

  Tugging on his lapels to straighten them, he only let go to seize her wrist and twist her arm further than it should go. Despite him squeezing her hard, Whisper tried to turn to counter his assault, but he pushed her back, blocking her in.

  “Ah,” she squeaked, bending under the pressure he put on her shoulder.

  It buckled her knees, but he grabbed her throat and pulled her back up, forcing her further against the wall by the door.

  “You have forty-eight hours. If you don’t make progress, I’ll terminate the arrangement.”

  Didn’t take a genius to know that translated into him terminating her.

  “Daddy,” she said, gritting her teeth together so hard that her jaw began to ache. “You’re gonna break my arm.”

  “I’ll break more than that if you fuck this up for us,” he said, stepping back to shove her aside, giving her arm one final yank as he released it.

  The pain in her shoulder shot to the back of her neck. As he backed away, her mouth opened in a silent yelp, no way she’d dare let a sound out. It was only then that she noticed Zaid in her peripheral vision, standing at the other end of the hallway.

  Her father didn’t see him, thank God. He went to the door and opened it to slam out of the building. Left there, she sank against the wall, her hand resting on the ache in her shoulder.

  “You don’t fight him,” he said, his voice as deep and menacing as ever.

  Even though her arm felt like it was about to combust or drop off, Whisper smiled and forced herself to stand up straight. “After dealing with me for twenty-nine years, I deserve everything he gives me. He’s my father.”

  Zaid came just a couple of steps closer to put her stray shoe on the dresser near her purse. “I’m your husband.”

  “You want to beat me?” she asked, strutting away from the wall. Even although it still hurt like a motherfucker, Whisper made herself let go of her limp arm to retrieve her shoe. “You want to break my arm and hurt me?” She dropped the shoe to the floor and righted it with her toes while slipping it on. In the second she picked up her purse, movement registered in her peripheral vision. Bosco was coming down the stairs. “Deal with my crap for twenty-nine years, then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, husband.”

  Broadening her smile, she pivoted to show only positive exuberance when Bosco reached the foot of the stairs with Nicole just behind him.

  “Nicole has agreed to let bygones be bygones,” Bosco said, giving her the eye like achieving that hadn’t been an easy task.

  With the high-maintenance Nicole, Whisper could believe it. “Would it make her feel better to hit me in the face?”

  Bosco tilted his head. “Probably couldn’t hurt.”

  “Not you anyway,” Whisper said, stepping closer while raising her chin. She put a hand on Bosco’s torso to ease him aside. “Hit me, Pretty Nicki.”

  Nicole gaped, and glanced from Bosco to Zaid who, no doubt, still loitered by the living room doors. “I… I… what?”

  “Hit me in the face,” Whisper said. “Give it your best shot.”

  Bosco smirked. “This sure is interesting,” he said and looked beyond her. “Should I get the jello and bikinis?”

  “This is a limited time offer, Nicki, so if—”

  Nicole brought her hand across Whisper’s cheek in a fast slap. It wasn’t the hardest she’d ever received, but wasn’t bad for a first try. Touching the
sting in her face, Whisper noticed horrified anticipation spread on Nicole’s expression like she expected her new sister-in-law to launch herself. Rather than satisfy that anticipation, Whisper smiled.

  “Wow,” Bosco said.

  “Not bad,” Whisper said, reaching for Nicole’s hand to raise it up. “But you deliver the power from—” Bosco cleared his throat, reminding her of what he’d said downstairs. “Right… right. Sure.” She let Nicole go and smiled again. “Shall we go and check if I’m diseased so my lord and master can fuck with confidence?”

  Playing the dutiful wife wasn’t really in her DNA, but she could vamp with the best of them. Nicole was going to be a thorn in her side. Whisper didn’t excel with delicate people. Looking on the bright side, at least there was one person in the house she’d be able to take down in a fight.

  Problem was, every one of the McDade men would probably die for Nicole. Pretty Nicki had chosen to be a part of the family after being selected by one of the McDade brothers. Whisper was nobody’s choice. That made her vulnerable.

  Hateful though it was, her existence there was about survival. If she fucked her marriage up, her father would kill her, and the Doherty family would go down. Whisper wasn’t sure which was worse. While she lived within the four walls provided by the McDades, she was vulnerable. Acknowledging that truth led to her making a vow to get out of those four walls as often as possible.

  That day it would be the doctors and the salon and shopping with Nicki. The night would probably involve another wrangling of the monster.

  Whisper was quick and shrewd, she’d learn how to get herself out in the open air. Out there in the world, she could be herself again.

  Sunday was one of her favorite days of the week. Part of Whisper’s usual routine required her to laze in bed for as long as possible. On that particular day, her lazing was interrupted by her husband whistling from the next room. He’d summoned her the same way on the Saturday night. Meathead.

  Doing her duty, she dragged herself from her nanny bed and went through to the master’s. Just for long enough to practice her head giving skills. Once he was done, he literally kicked her out of bed, using his foot to push her away from his body to the edge of the bed, sending her to the floor.

  Whisper didn’t care. She dragged herself back to her own bed and went back to sleep.

  By the time she woke up, Zaid was gone. That worked just perfect because it gave her the chance to soak in the tub and go through her exfoliating and moisturizing ritual. The spa people had done the same thing the previous day too, but Whisper didn’t think anyone could ever exfoliate too much… not on the McDade’s dime anyway. It just so happened she was using all the expensive product she’d loaded herself up with on her day out with Pretty Nicki.

  No one was in the kitchen when she went down around lunchtime. Seeing a prime opportunity to get a breather, she decided to go out for coffee. After the insanity of the last few days, having time to herself was a welcome change of pace. The cherry on her cake involved melting her McDade plastic through the afternoon before meeting up with her girls for dinner.

  They were on their third cocktail and hadn’t quite got to ordering food yet, but there were menus on the table, which was a start.

  “You haven’t had sex with him?” Mariana asked, her hands clutched near her chest as she bowed over the table. “You… you haven’t had sex with your husband?”

  “Oral,” Whisper said, picking up the menus to hand one to Paula at her side. Mariana ignored the menu even when it was being waved in her face. “Lots and lots of oral.”

  Mariana put a hand on the menu to slap it down to the tabletop. “Is he any good at it?”

  “For him,” Whisper said, scanning her menu. “Lots and lots of oral for him.”

  “He hasn’t returned the favor?” Mariana asked and sat up straight, her mouth open in outrage. “That’s… oh my God, that’s so rude!”

  Smiling, she glanced over her menu. “Maybe he’s just no good at it.”

  “How are his hands? He’s tall, right? He’s got to be good at—”

  “Hasn’t done that either,” Whisper said. “I think he likes my boobs.”

  Mariana spat out her disgust. “Uh, I hate guys like that. Guys that drool all over your chest and tug on your nipples like they’re supposed to come off. Ugh, it’s horrible.”

  It was so great that she didn’t have to worry about concealing her amusement. For the first time that weekend, Whisper could be herself without the requirement to apologize or justify herself.

  “Is he a good kisser?” Paula asked. “I always think a good kiss can erase a whole bunch of sins, you know?”

  Mariana’s eyes widened in hope and she nodded, begging for the answer. Expectation radiated from both of her girlfriends as she lowered her menu wearing a frown.

  “You know…” Whisper started. “I don’t think we’ve done that either.”

  Mariana threw up her hands. “So all you’ve done all weekend is suck his dick? Are you kidding me?” she exclaimed. “I disown you. That’s it. No way you can be a friend of mine if you put up with that kind of bullshit.”

  Whisper laughed. “What do you want me to do? Demand that he eat my pussy?”

  “Why not?” Mariana squawked. “He obviously has no qualms about demanding what he wants… Come to think of it, why the hell haven’t you? You have never, ever been shy with a guy in the past. Not ever! If any guy thought about leaving you hanging, you’d never go back for seconds.”

  “This is different; he’s my husband,” Whisper said, raising a hand to the server to call him over. Ordering a bunch of sharing food, she figured everyone would find something they liked. Just for good measure, they ordered another round of cocktails too. “Don’t worry, tonight’s on Zay.”

  “Oh, it’s Zay, is it?” Mariana asked, nodding at Paula.

  Whisper just shook her head. “No one calls him Zaid… as I keep being told,” she muttered.

  Saying the shorter shortened version was quicker anyway. The less time a McDade name spent on her tongue, the better.

  “I think it’s shocking he’s expecting you to do all the work,” Mariana said. “I’d kick him out of bed tonight.”

  “We don’t share a bed either,” she said, picking up her Cosmopolitan. “I sleep in the nanny’s room; it adjoins his bedroom.”

  Her friends made eye contact and blinked at each other. After a second, they burst out laughing.

  “Oh my God,” Mariana said. “Why does he need a nanny’s room?”

  Whisper shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “We need to get you laid, girl,” Mariana said.

  Her purse began to vibrate against her hip, so Whisper slid her hand inside to retrieve her cellphone. The caller had never rung before, yet the phone identified who it was. Someone else must have pre-programmed the device because there was no way she’d saved any number under the single word that flashed on her screen: “Husband.”

  “Excuse me,” she said, answering the phone and raising it to her ear. “I apologize, the person you are trying to contact is unavailable to suck it at this time…” Her friends began to laugh, but she held up a finger to quiet them. “However, if you happen to be from Nantucket, you should be able to handle the task on your own. Thank you for calling.”

  “Where are you?” came his deep, monotone voice that didn’t display an iota of acknowledgement that she’d even spoken.

  “Out. Where are you?” she asked, picking a skinny straw from the holder at the end of the table to dip it in her drink.

  “You need to come home.”

  Whisper ducked to take the straw between her lips. “I don’t need to do a damn thing, husband,” she said, sucking up as much of her drink as she could when she saw her server coming over with their double round. “I plan to stay out very late, drink lots and lots of alcohol, and dance until I can’t stand up… I may or may not pass out in some random man’s apartment before or after I do or don’t have sex with him…
Whatever happens, I plan to have no memory of any of it tomorrow.”

  “There’s a car outside Santiago’s,” he said. “Go outside. Get in it.”

  “Are you kidding?” she asked. Sitting up straight to look over the back of the booth toward the large windows on either side of the door, it didn’t take long to spy the limo waiting outside. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He didn’t respond; Whisper scowled at the table. “So your question was just bullshit?”

  “We can track your phone.”

  “Well, no shit, I know that now,” she said. “You can bet your ass I won’t ever bring this with me anywhere I go ever again… Why do I have to—”

  “Everyone eats dinner together on a Sunday. Everyone.”

  Their food hadn’t come yet and she was hungry. Those concerns were secondary to a more pressing issue.

  Whisper felt it was only right that she be honest about why it probably wouldn’t be the best of ideas for her to join the weekly family meal.

  “Husband,” she said, sort of wincing and raising her attention to her friends in hope of a little moral support. “I don’t think that I’d be very good company right now.”

  “Why not?” he asked, his voice flat.

  “It’s possible I’ve drunk a considerable amount of alcohol,” she said, attempting to catch her straw between her teeth. It slipped away when her friend’s laughter caused her to laugh too. Whisper waved a hand at them. “Shh. Shh!”

  “You think I can’t keep you in check?”

  The grumble of his confidence carried down the line to quake her insides. “I think if you try, I’ll just want to rebel more,” she said, holding the straw in her teeth and finishing the drink before gesturing for another. “I’m just being honest, husband. I’m a brat. You married a brat. Who likes to push, and tease, and fuck…” Sitting up straight, she recalled Mariana’s question. “How come you’ve never kissed me?”

  “You’re a Doherty and a brat,” he said. “Why would I want to kiss you?”

  Dropping a flat hand onto the table, her head fell back as she groaned. “Oh my God.”

  The sound may have come across as annoyance or impatience, but the terrifying truth was much worse than either of those… she liked it. Whisper liked that they acted as though they repulsed each other. In every way, they should. Although she acted inconvenienced when he summoned her to do him a favor, there was something hot about being commanded.