With that, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“Did I do something wrong?” Fernanda asked.
“No, it wasn’t you,” I assured her. “Just wrap up whatever you picked out and charge it to my account. I’ll take it all,” I said as I stood. “It was good to see you again, Fernanda.”
“You too, Noah.” She hugged me close and kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll have them delivered first thing in the morning. Go get the girl, sweetie.”
I nodded my thanks and headed for the car. When I got inside, Lanie was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest and her face turned to look out the window. “Home, Samuel,” I directed him before he closed my door.
“You mind telling me what all that was about?” I asked Delaine.
She whipped her head around and glared at me. “In the future, if you want to go visit one of your old girlfriends to get your freak on, please have the decency not to make me go along. I’m not into that.”
“She’s not an old girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend, plaything … same difference.” She studied my face and then shook her head before turning away. “You might want to wipe that hooker red lipstick off your cheek.”
I swiped at the side of my face and looked at my hand. Sure enough, Fernanda’s lipstick was smeared on my fingertips.
“Look, I didn’t bring you there so that I could get my freak on with an old girlfriend. Although I’d be perfectly within my rights to do so, if I wanted. The contract states you can’t be with any other men. It says nothing at all about me.”
Her head snapped around again. “You bastard! If you think for one minute that I’m going to sit around while you’re out fucking every woman you come across, just so that you can carry some freakish disease back to me, you’ve got another thing coming! I will hightail it out of that house so fast it’ll make your head spin!”
“And then I’ll sue you for breach of contract,” I stated matter-of-factly. “However, we don’t need to worry about that because I don’t plan on sleeping with anyone else, for the next two years anyway. You are the only woman I want to fuck, Delaine. Now, will you please stop throwing these childish tantrums so that I can enjoy you?”
The expression on her face softened minutely to a pout, but she still held her defensive posture as she looked away from me again. I took her lack of a response to mean she was reluctantly agreeing to my request.
“Good. Now for your punishment for acting out in front of a good friend of mine and embarrassing me,” I started. She looked back at me again and was about to say something, but I cut her off before she could. “I was trying to buy you some nice lingerie, but now you will be required to be panty-less for me at all times.” I smiled smugly at the way she opened and closed her mouth. “I should probably thank you for not being able to control your temper, because that actually works out better for me. So thank you, Delaine.”
“Oh … you … ugh!” she huffed, and then turned away again.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence. She refused to look at me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was disappointed that I hadn’t gotten to see her model the lingerie for me in the shop, but I had a possessive streak as well, so I guess I could understand why Delaine was upset. She had been throwing herself at me all morning, and with the exception of the little gift I’d given her in the hot tub, I had been rejecting her attempts to do something for me in turn. I had to admit I would’ve been a bit miffed if I’d been in her position, too. But where I was used to her reluctance to let me have my wicked way with her, she wasn’t used to mine.
What she didn’t understand was that I was trying to be gentle with her. For now, anyway. But all that was going to change as soon as that pretty little kitty of hers had had time to recuperate. After the beating I was planning on putting on her, I was sure she’d be begging me to go “get my freak on” with an old girlfriend.
8
FIRE, BULLETS, AND VAMPS, OH MY!
Lanie
Noah left me alone after the epic fail of a trip we’d made to the lingerie shop.
I wasn’t jealous. I swear. It was the Cooch. She was royally pissed and throwing up picket signs all over the damn place. The Wonder Peen was going to have to kiss some major ass to win her over again. He might have been able to get away with another one of those spankings, but I couldn’t say for sure.
I went to bed before Noah, but I was only faking sleep when he crawled under the covers. My feelings were a tad bit hurt that he kept his back to me and an insane amount of space between us. No naked spooning or forking, no gropage, nothing.
The next morning, I woke before he did. He was still sleeping when I got out of my shower, and that was even after I made as much noise as I could to purposely wake him. Don’t ask me why I did it, because I really didn’t know. I might have sort of missed the bastard.
I even strolled into the bedroom naked, rummaged around in his closet for something to wear, accidentally on purpose knocked a couple of pairs of his shoes to the floor (and left them there), and then closed the door harder than necessary. Nothing. So I had to check the man’s pulse, right? I mean, who could possibly sleep through all that?
But then my stomach made this noise that signaled feeding time, and I distinctly remembered having seen a box of Frosted Flakes in the pantry, so Noah whoremongering Crawford’s well-being was quickly forgotten.
I had just slurped down the last of the sweetened milk from my cereal and put the bowl in the sink when Noah finally emerged. God help me, he was standing there with towel-dried wet hair, a pair of distressed low-rise jeans, and absolutely nothing else—except the little black band of his Calvin Kleins underneath. So let me say this: naked Noah was glorious, but half-naked Noah, in nothing but a pair of blue jeans … thud.