Chapter 54

Fifty-Four

EMORY

I'm fucking my wife in the men's bathroom, and I'm treating her like she's a slut, but fuck, I think she likes it.

She's soaking wet, and my dick slides right in, giving us both the relief we're desperate for. I take her from behind and push her down so she's flat against the counter. I pump in and out, obsessed with how good it feels. I kept her thong on because I was too eager, but now I want to see all of her. I rip it off, pulling on the strands of lace until they fall on top of my dress shoes.

"Look at you," I say, pulling us upright.

She's flushed all over, and her cheeks are bright with pleasure.

"Look at you letting me take you in a bathroom like you're some dirty little slut." Her cunt tightens, and I pump in harder. God damn.

" Emory ." She says my name like it's her lifeline, and I love it.

I clench my jaw to keep myself from coming. "You're only a slut for me, though…"

A moan leaves her, and I shut my eyes. God, she likes when I talk dirty to her. "Say it."

"I'm only a slut for you." She's so obedient when I have her like this. It's the best balance.

As soon as she says it, she explodes. She squeezes my cock, and her tight body moves against me as a wave of pleasure rocks her.

"Fuck." I make a noise I don't think I have ever made before. I quickly pull out and move her to the side, shooting my come into the sink.

We're both panting and gripping whatever we can to keep us upright for so long that there's a knock on the door.

Scottie sucks in air and quickly fixes her dress against her body. I scoop up her panties and stuff them in my pocket before staring at her.

I'm in love with her.

I'm totally fucking in love with her.

I slip my hand into hers when there's another knock. I give her a wink. "Relax, baby."

It's me. I'm the one that needs to fucking relax.

"Relax?" she rushes. "Emory! I just let you fuck me in this bathroom, and there's probably a long line of men out there who are going to think I'm a slut."

I grab my suit jacket, and with my hand on the doorknob, I glance at her worried face. "The only thing they're going to be thinking is how lucky I am to be your husband." Her furrowed brows relax slightly. "You may be a slut for me but never for them."

She blushes.

Goal achieved.

When I open the door, I'm not surprised to only see one man standing there. Men don't go to the bathroom in groups like women do.

I raise my eyebrows at Scottie. See?

But she isn't looking at me.

She's looking at him.

And I really don't like the look on her face.

I turn to the man and give him a once-over.

He's wearing a nice suit, and considering I know just about everyone affiliated with the league, he's likely to be one of the donors.

"Excuse us," I say with an uptick in my voice.

I pull Scottie to the other side of me because I'm selfish and don't want his eyes on her, especially with the look of familiarity occurring between the two of them.

His chuckle skates down my spine, and I pause with my back to him. Scottie tugs on my hand, but I ignore the pull. I look over my shoulder, and he's got this sly smile on his face that needs to be wiped the hell off.

"Are the rumors true?" he asks.

"The rumor of our marriage?" I'm sure he isn't referring to that, but I make sure he knows that it is. "Yep."

"Nah. The one about her tasting like cherries."

Scottie growls softly under her breath before stepping forward. "Wouldn't you like to know? The answer is still no. "

I tug my bold, smart-mouthed wife behind me with a little bit of pride swelling in my chest. She doesn't need me to fight her battles, but I'll gladly do so anyway.

"You must hang out at the Cat House."

He looks proud, but I step forward to squash that right away.

"Emory," Scottie warns.

I turn and wink at her over my shoulder. Relax.

"You want to know what she tastes like?" The man is eyeing me with suspicion. I'm a swing away, which means I could knock him out if I tried, but I don't because I'm a grown-ass man, and there is nothing more demeaning than learning that the hottest woman at this event isn't yours. "She tastes like me."

Shock moves over his face, and I smile with confidence. "It'd be best if you remembered that."

I turn around and look directly at Scottie's hidden smile. My hand falls to hers before I say over my shoulder, "Oh, and if you ever talk to my wife, it better be with fucking respect."

Scottie and I enter the event and act like nothing ever happened. Whenever we share a look that lasts longer than a second, I grin, and she blushes. I keep snagging her attention when she's standing with the wives, just to watch the pink spread across her cheeks. I pat my pocket the next time she looks at me, and she rolls her eyes with a twinkle in them.

When an older woman approaches the wives and starts to talk to them, I go back to standing in silence with Rhodes.

"That's some pretty impeccable acting, Olson."

I pop one of the appetizers in my mouth and ignore Rhodes's knowing glint.

"You tell her you're in love with her yet?" he asks.

I shrug. There's no need to explain it to him. A man as quiet and as stoic as him? He sees everything. "Not entirely."

He sighs. "I thought you were smarter than that."

I lean back onto the cocktail table and watch him leave before turning back to Scottie. My hands grow sweaty with the thought of telling her that I love her, because I've never told anyone I loved them, other than my family.

It's not a phrase I use often, and it's definitely not a phrase I use without thought.

But maybe I should.

The three words have been on the tip of my tongue more than once, and I've had to dismiss them every time.

I push off from the table when Scottie starts to head over to me. Most of the team has left by now, and with Coach Jacobs heading out the door after Rhodes, it's our cue to go too.

"You ready?" I ask eagerly.

Scottie blinks a few times and glances at the woman she was talking to moments before. "Um…"

"What's wrong? Did she say something about you tasting like cherries too? Because I'll knock her down a notch too, if need be."

A burst of laughter leaves her, and it's genuine.

I grin. "You think I'm kidding?"

"You're being awfully possessive," she teases. "Of course I don't need you to knock that woman down a few notches." She can't hide her smile, and I can't stop staring at it. "You may need to knock me down a few notches, though."

"Why?" I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her curled hair off to the side as we make our way to the exit. "The quick fuck wasn't enough?"

She chokes on a gasp. I poke her side to make her laugh again.

I'm flirting with her, and I don't even mean to.

"She…wants me to take photos for her company."

I stop us right outside the event door. "Wait, what?"

Scottie nibbles on her lip, and I zero in on it. "Yeah, she said she saw our wedding photos." She shrugs. "I posted a few more the other day because I just…really like them. I'm proud of them."

Me too.

"Anyway, she owns a high-end boutique downtown, and she asked if I could take photos of some models in the dresses for her website and a few magazines."

"Scottie." Pride swallows me whole. "That's…"

"Crazy. Right?" She throws her hands up in the air. "I am not some fancy photographer. My camera battery is such shit that it barely lasts twenty minutes. I don't have the right equipment, and I'm…"

I finish the thought for her. "Fucking talented."

Scottie stops babbling and stares at me with skepticism.

"Did you say yes?"

She chews on her lip again, and I quickly reach up to free it so she'll snap out of it.

"Well, yeah." She's talking so fast I can hardly understand her. "But I have to call her and tell her I can't do it. I am not a professional photographer. I can't?—"

"Why can't you?" I grab onto her arms, and she presses her mouth shut.

She bounces her worried blue eyes between mine. "Because…" She glances elsewhere. "It's not practical. It takes years to build a reputable clientele and to create a thick portfolio. It's not financially stable for someone like me with responsibilities and..." She trails off, and I don't understand.

"And what?" I ask.

I watch her shut down immediately. She shakes her head and begins to walk toward the door. If she thinks I'm letting this go, she doesn't know me as well as I thought. It's time she and I got everything out in the open. She's my wife, and I want to know everything about her—even her fears.

I trail after her. "You do know we live together, right? Just because you walk away doesn't mean the conversation ends."

My teasing tone fades when I catch up to her. Her entire body tenses, and she takes a step backward. I watch the color on her face fade. "Scottie." Her eyes drop to the sidewalk, and I do the same. Anger burns my skin with a clench of my jaw.

"Let go of my wife," I demand, flexing my fist.

Scottie's nostrils flare, and I hear her heaving breaths. She pulls on her hand, and the homeless man digs his dirty fingers into her wrist.

The only reason I haven't plummeted him backward is because I don't want to scare Scottie. Remembering what Scottie told me about her mom, I suspect there's something buried here that I'm not exactly privy to.

"I'm going to ask you one more time to let go of my wife before I physically remove your hand."

The homeless man grumbles under his breath. He finally lets go of Scottie, and she stumbles backward. I see Kane staring from the event doors, and he's over to us before I can signal to him. He catches Scottie around the waist. She's shaking like a leaf, and I could throw up at the sight. I turn around to threaten the man but stop when I see him muttering to a woman who is lying on her side on top of a cardboard box right behind him.

The realization of who she is crashes into me.

Shit.

I turn around and see that Kane has moved in front of Scottie. Malaki begins to walk over, and he takes one look at the situation before stepping in line with Kane. I don't give her mother a second look as I head right for my wife.

I step in between her and Kane and weave my fingers through her hair so she'll look at me. The hazy gloss cuts me deep. "Let's go home, baby."

Her bottom lip trembles, but Scottie is resilient. I watch as she silently reprimands herself before she places her hand in mine and lets me lead her to my car.

Neither of us say anything when the engine starts up.

I place my hand on her thigh as she stares out the window, silently letting her know that I'm here if she needs me.

Except, I'm not entirely sure that she'll ever really need me.

And if she does, I don't think she'll admit it.

I'm in and out of an unrestful sleep, waking up every hour on the dot.

A yawn flows from my mouth as I reach over for her, making sure she's okay.

Scottie hasn't said a word, other than a clipped, ‘I'm fine.' After we showered, she climbed into bed with me, and I could hear her troubled thoughts like they were my own.

I didn't press or force her to talk to me.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and listened for her breathing to calm before I fell asleep too.

"Hey," I rasp. "You okay?"

Something soft brushes against my arm, and I pull my eyes open.

What the hell?

It takes me a second to adjust to the dark room. I stare at her side of the bed, but instead of Scottie, I see two glowing eyes gazing back at me.

I immediately sit up.

"Shutter?"

To my surprise, he lets out a loud meow. The dumpster cat walks over to me and nudges my hand before nipping me gently on the thumb.

He jumps off the bed and prances over to the open bedroom door.

I look around the room. "Scottie?"

Shutter meows again, and he's staring at me from the threshold.

My heart slips when he comes back onto the blanket and glares at me from the foot of my bed.

He meows again, and this time, it's louder.

I fling the covers off my legs, and Shutter rushes to beat me to the door.

"Scottie?" I repeat, glancing around my room one more time.

Shutter meows and zooms past my legs, racing me to the stairs.

I follow after him with unease backing my every step.

Where is she, and why is Shutter inside?

The house is blanketed with darkness, and there's a nip in the air that I know is from outside.

I stare at the open front door, and a fear like I've never felt wraps around my throat and chokes me.

"Scottie?" My tone is stern.

Shutter brushes against me and nips my ankle. I pull my leg back and glare at him. As soon as he sees me looking at him, he prances to the kitchen and stands in front of the pantry door. He claws at it a few times before I walk over and slowly pull it open.

Shock makes me drop to my knees when I see her. I pull her into my lap and quickly unclench her fingers from the tight grip on the knife. It slips to the floor with a clank.

"Baby, what are you doing?" I try to keep my tone normal.

Her entire body trembles in my grip, and when our eyes meet, I'm not sure she even recognizes me, which scares the fuck out of me.