21
Idrummed my fingers on the table and watched the door. It couldn’t be too long till she got home, and I had quite the evening planned as soon as she did.
If she would actually look me in the eye, that was. She had barely met my gaze since that fuck-session we’d shared on the counter a few days before, and all I wanted was to go for another round. I had considered pissing her off again to see if she had to take her anger out on me all over again, but I figured the last thing I needed was to give her more reasons to stay away from me. Not when I needed her more than ever.
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her—well, specifically, the two of us together—since we had hooked up again. This time, I could remember every single detail and reveled in the parts that most rewarded a redo, the noises she had made as she came, the feel of her pussy clenching helplessly around my cock as she came, the way her body trembled when she was close. I wanted to reenact all of it. I wanted more memories with her. I wanted everything.
But she had been avoiding me like it was her full-time job, and there wasn’t much I could do about that until she warmed up to me again. What was bothering me most was the idea that she regretted what had happened between us. It had been so damn good for me, and I could have sworn she felt the same way. Yet, she had been acting as though it was the worst thing she’d ever done, which made me wonder why. Hadn’t we waited long enough? Didn’t she know me by now? Weren’t we husband and wife, just doing whatever any normal married couple would do?
I had everything laid out for a nice evening for the two of us as soon as she got home from work, a movie, some ice cream, and I’d cooked a simple pasta dish for the two of us, hoping she might appreciate the effort. I wanted to show her, more than anything, that I was husband material, more than just some playboy who used her as best he could when the chance arose.
There was a knock on the door, and I went to open it at once. She must have just left her keys at work or maybe she was in a rush when she was leaving. A rush home to see me, perhaps. I was smiling when I pulled the door open, but when I saw who was standing there, I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“Cleo,” I greeted my sister, and she planted her hands on her hips and stared at me expectantly.
“What?” I asked, and she brushed past me and into the apartment.
“So, where are you hiding her?” she demanded, peering around as Amaya might be in camouflage, blended into the walls somewhere.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I shot back, slamming the door behind her in annoyance. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I’m here because I want to get to know my sister-in-law, and you seem determined to keep that from happening.” She threw her hands in the air as though it should have been obvious.
“Okay, well, you can understand where I’m coming from,” I protested. “I don’t think any husband would exactly want you and your friends around their wife.”
“Oh, so now I’m a bad influence, am I?” She turned on me, and I realized at once that I’d said the wrong thing. I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand over my face. Damn, all this shit with Amaya was turning me into an idiot of the highest order.
“It’s not like that,” I corrected myself as patiently as I could. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I just meant—”
“You just meant that no man would want their wife around me because I’m such an unmarriageable wreck,” she finished up for me. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me, in full-on little sister mode, petulant and pissed, except this time she had pretty good reason to be.
“I’m sorry,” I tried to soothe her. “But all of this is a lot for Amaya to take in, and she needs some time to get used to it, so I don’t want to drop her in the deep end with everybody, all right? I want to give her some time to settle in, that’s all. It’s not about you.”
“Okay, so how long do I need to wait before you’ll let me at her?” she wondered aloud, softening slightly. “She’s your wife, Kristo. I want to be friends with her. I want her to know that the family wants her.”
“She does,” I promised her. “Dad met her, and he was actually really sweet.”
“Oh, so now you think Dad’s better off meeting her than I am?” She raised her voice once more. “That’s bullshit.”
“No, no, that’s not what I was saying at all,” I groaned. “You know what he’s like. If I’d tried to keep it from him any longer he would have—”
“He would have turned up at your apartment just like I am,” she finished up for me. “Guess we’ve got that in common.”
“Please, I can’t deal with this tonight,” I pleaded with her. “I just need a little time. Amaya and I are dealing with some shit, and I don’t want to have to handle you on top of it.”
She stared at me for a long moment, and I could tell some part of her wanted to kick up even more of a fuss, but she was still my sister. She still wanted the best for me, and I was relieved to see her softening slightly.
“You guys going to be all right?” she asked, and I nodded.
“I think we will, yeah,” I replied, my mind flashing back to the contract. Even if we couldn’t figure things out personally between us, I still had that to make sure she wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ll give you your space,” she agreed. “But I want you to know I’m coming back. And I’m not going to take no for an answer. I want to get to know my new family, okay?”
“Okay,” I promised her, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. “I’ll call you soon, all right? When we’re doing better with everything.”
“You better,” she warned me. “I don’t want your new wife to think I’m a bitch.”
“I’ll tell her you stopped by today,” I offered her. “She doesn’t think you’re a bitch, trust me. She probably appreciates that you’re giving her the space.”