him.”
A sarcastic chuckle escaped, and she shrugged off the irritation from the mention of her uncle.
“I believe my uncle was feeding me a weak lie. Once in a while, I’ll have flashes of people I think I interacted with before he took me in. I think I was in foster care, but my subconscious won’t allow me to see full pictures or piece together concise patterns of those thoughts.”
Learning about Mecca was interesting, and I wanted the conversation to continue, but too soon, the car began to decelerate. We were already back at the house.
Her dominating presence suggested she had gotten used to playing the male role in life and her relationships. However, she hadn’t commented on my apparent inability to keep my hands off her.
She was fully capable of walking from the car to the front door without my assistance, but it wasn’t every day I got married, or found a woman I was interested in outside of a bedroom. There was no use in me lying to myself about it, I enjoyed all those warm and lush places she possessed. What was even more confusing was that I genuinely enjoyed her company.
“Are you hungry? The cook can make you whatever you want.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m still stuffed from all the overpriced food from the reception.”
The guard who had stopped in the living room where he would post up for the night drew her attention for a moment. My hand remained on her back as I guided her through the living room, up the stairs, and along the short expanse of the hall to the master bedroom.
After I pushed the bedroom door open, I waited until she entered first. The automatic lights snapped on with her first few steps. When I followed her in, she came to an abrupt stop and glanced back.
“Where are you going? We don’t have to pretend anymore. I’m sure your staff and guards already know the deal about our marriage.”
I tried but failed to fight the smile teasing my lips.
“This is our room. I plan on taking a shower and getting some sleep.”
If she thought I was letting someone as sexy as her sleep alone, she had lost her mind. The notion that I didn’t have this same type of desire for her cousin resonated. The idea of Desiree and me sharing my bedroom had never formed into a complete thought. Mecca, on the other hand, was moving in this bedroom the day we had decided to get married two weeks ago.
She surveyed the room in silence, giving it a once over before her gaze stopped at our bed, which I aimed a finger at.
“It’s a California King. You’ll have more than enough room, and you don’t have to worry about me touching you until you ask me to.”
Although I was baiting her on purpose, she didn’t render a reply but continued her observation of the area. We’d had a nonstop day and a family emergency, so I was willing to give her space, but separate rooms weren’t going to happen.
“I’m not worried about you touching me. I know we should at least look like a legit couple, but I’m not used to sharing a bed with anyone. Every man I’ve been with was tossed out as soon as I was done with him, or as soon as he disappointed me.”
This news lifted my brows. “So you’re used to discarding men like tissue?”
“Pretty much,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. She was me, in female form. A step closer had me invading her personal space. “I’m not the type of man that gets discarded.”
The daring glint in her eyes was aimed with all the powers of hell behind them. However, she took a moment to allow my words to sink in. When her expression softened, I didn’t know what to expect but was sure she would give me a piece of her mind.
“I hate to disappoint you, husband, but after years of lackluster performances and ego-driven sex, I have decided its best that I take care of my own needs. It will be one less task you have to worry about. No need to thank me, but you’re welcome.”
“Wife.”
I let the word wife dangle in the air since she made it a point to address me in that way, like there was something wrong with my name.
“Do I look like the type of man that disappoints?”
There was no reply since I had gotten to within a hairs-breath of her face. She had kissed