Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,74
breakfast bar. A smile would tick across his rugged face, and he’d push a latte in my direction.
We developed a routine. We ate breakfast together. Sometimes he wanted me on his lap as he sipped coffee and read the news. Other days, he scooped me in his arms and took me back to bed, fucking me before he took off to do God knows what. No matter what, Tony always delivered me lunch.
I treasured these small gestures.
Even the fact that he drew pictures in my coffee’s foam made my eyes well with emotion. The thoughtfulness reminded me of my mom, the things she’d done before she vanished. I never knew how much I needed this. I cherished every moment with Tony, but at the same time it freaked me out.
How long would he stay before disappearing?
He was only here out of guilt. As soon as I healed, he’d vanish, and that’d hurt like hell because I loved having him around. He was better than everyone else’s husband. Nobody was as loyal or brave. I’d never known a man so ruthlessly devoted to protecting his woman. He humbled me. He was trying to stop me from being a victim of the MC, just as he had been. It made me ache for his respect and admiration, which I’d never sought from anyone.
I dreaded the moment he’d go back to wherever holdout he had before now, so I threw myself into distractions.
I fielded my dad’s calls. I sketched. I worked on Tony’s gift when he took showers or went for a run, and I contemplated my life, all the things I’d done to support the club.
Knuckles rapped the doorframe.
I hid the object in my hands under a microfiber towel and straightened over my makeshift workbench, which Tony had set up so I could finish the pieces I’d been commissioned to do. It wasn’t safe to visit the jeweler’s studio, so Tony cleared his desk and let me use it.
He wasn’t supposed to be here so early. The sight of my husband’s well-built frame stretched out in the doorway filled me with steam. He’d tucked in a thick cotton T-shirt into navy dress pants. Brown leather, matching his loafers, cinched them tight.
“Hi, honey.”
Tony approached with a half-cocked smirk, amusement flickering in his deep eyes. He bent and kissed my cheek, setting off fireworks beneath my skin.
I turned my head, my lips brushing his ear. “My ass still has marks from your hand.”
“I know,” he said, his voice warming. “You showed me during your striptease.”
I bit my lip as Tony’s face wrinkled with a small grin. It’d been in the morning. The memory of Tony’s cock from the night before got me so wet that I plugged in the camera facing the bed. I texted Tony. Then I sat right in front of it and…played with myself. After I’d finished, my phone pinged with an emoji from Tony.
A flame.
“I figured it’d get your attention.”
“It got me through a tedious meeting. Thank God I turned off the sound.” His low laughter tingled across my face like tiny electrical shocks. “You make the most delicious moans when you come. I might set them as my ringtone.”
He heard me?
I toyed with my hair, hot around my neck. “I didn’t realize the cameras picked up sound, too.”
“They sure do.”
He pulled up a chair and sat behind me, his presence sucking the air from the room. My pulse slammed my throat as he leaned forward, his mouth finding the space between my neck and shoulder.
“What are you up to?”
“Working,” I whispered, finding it hard to concentrate with the lips pressing into me. “Are you going to sit there?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“It makes me self-conscious.”
He made a discontented sound. “Why? I have no idea what I’m looking at. It’s not like a painting. I can’t see it coming together.”
“Well, I’m not ready to show you.”
“Intriguing.”
He moved closer, his fingers encircling my wrist. The rough bite and my position reminded me of a few nights ago. I’d unsuccessfully tried to block those hellish hours I spent naked, tied up, and drugged.
I wheeled around in my chair, sorrow centering over my chest.
“Tony, I’ve been thinking…I know I should let it go, but I can’t stop thinking about them. There were so many girls.” I took his hand and traced his calluses. “What’s going to happen to them?”
“Nothing good.”
The bluntness turned my stomach. “Can’t we save them?”