She laughs. It makes me want to sew her mouth shut. This is about as funny as John’s temper. “It doesn’t hurt,” she says, blasé.

It doesn’t hurt? I beg to differ. I’m in fucking agony. “No more cake propping.” I’ll be having a word with her friend. “I mean it.”

“You’re overreacting.”

Overreacting? Many would probably agree. I don’t give a fuck. Those bruises shouldn’t be tarnishing her flawless skin. Nothing should be tarnishing her. Alcohol. Blemishes.

What about you, Ward. Should you be tarnishing her?

“Probably not,” I grumble in answer to my own silent question, falling to my knees and kissing her better. “I’ll be having a word with Kate too,” I warn, just to be clear, just so there are no surprises when I declare the demise of Margo. Fucking Margo. I need to call the dealership and see if they’ve found a replacement yet.

I rise, every muscle pulling, and turn her back to me, struggling to remove my fierce glare as I wipe the water from her face. Doesn’t she realize how precious she is? She needs to look after herself, and if she’s going to be difficult about it, I don’t mind taking on that role.

When she opens her eyes, I dip and kiss her collarbone. Gently. Softly. Showing her. She quivers when I draw a perfect line with my tongue to her ear. “Later,” I promise, smiling when she grumbles unhappily. There it is. Want. Greed. It’s a leap in the right direction. The first step on the path that’ll be her only route to what keeps her surviving. I’m much farther down that path. “Out,” I order, finding it unbelievably hard to refuse her. But refuse her I must. I lack control in so many elements of my life, even more now. Controlling what I can is a necessity. A compulsion.

I guide her from the shower and dry her off, wrapping her up, snug and cozy in a towel. “All done.”

I see her eyes roam the vast planes of my torso, see her delight. Irresistible. She finds me irresistible. Taking her hand, I lead her into the bedroom. I find my jeans and tug them on, depriving her. Increasing her want.

“No boxers?” she asks.

I’m careful as I fasten the fly, smiling. “No, I don’t want any unnecessary obstructions.”

“Obstructions?”

I yank a T-shirt over my head, feeling her burning gaze all over my front. Yeah, I’m a tad older. But in incredible shape. “Yes, obstructions,” I say as I tug it down my body, watching in amusement as she tries to get her lax jaw under control. She’s adorable. I walk over and take her neck, pulling her close, aware I’m being unfair. And I’m not sorry. “Get ready,” I murmur lowly, sealing our mouths.

“Where’s my dress?”

“I don’t know,” I say before I can stop myself, my mind working overtime. Use it as a bargaining chip. Ammo. I nod to myself as I stride out of my room. I’m all for give and take.