Leaning back against the arm of the couch, I flip through pages of a book on my WiFi disabled e-reader until I find the right chapter.  I am nearly done, and my online group is supposed to go over it tomorrow.  Deklan promised to take me somewhere to chat with everyone about the ending.

My husband walks out of the bathroom in just a towel, still dripping from his shower.  He is running a little behind schedule this morning but seems able to get himself ready for the day in a matter of minutes.  Though we’ve been married nearly a month now, I can’t stop myself from staring at his body whenever I get the chance.  I watch him from the couch as he shovels a piece of toast down his throat, followed by a cup of coffee.

I still don’t have the nerve to ask him about his scars.

“How many languages do you speak?” Deklan asks suddenly.

“Speak?  Just three, really.  I can get by in a couple more and read a few more than that.”  I try to brush it off, but Deklan stares at me until I offer more.  “English, French, Spanish.  I can make polite conversation on specific topics in German, Russian, and Arabic.”

“Arabic?  Really?”

“Why not?”

“Hardly Latin based.”

“Neither is Russian.”

He gives me a half nod, conceding the point as he walks over to sit on the other side of the couch.  I pull my knees up to give him more room.

“How did you learn?” he asks.

I consider how to answer without sounding snarky.  Besides, the whole truth could lead me to a topic I’ve wanted to discuss with him but hadn’t yet built up my nerve.

“After…everything that happened my first year of high school, I studied at home.  I didn’t go out much.  I got bored.”

“So you learned more languages?”

“I studied a lot of things.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“It was.”  I lick my lips and glance at him through my lashes.  “Kind of like now.”

“I bore you, do I?”

“Not you, no.”  I swivel around, discard the e-reader on the coffee table, and place my feet on the floor so I can snuggle closer to him.  “But you aren’t here all the time.”

“I wish I didn’t have to leave you all day.”  Deklan places his hand on my thigh, running it slowly from my knee farther up and under the hem of my robe.  “I’d much rather stick around.”

I feel his fingers crawling farther up my leg, and I know exactly what that means.  Deklan only has about fifteen minutes before he has to leave, and he’s not even dressed yet.  He’ll get me all wound up and then leave with a smirk on his face, but I need to keep my focus.

“I wish I…Oh!” I moan as Deklan’s fingers reach their goal.  He silences me with his mouth as his fingers circle, and I tilt my hips to press against his hand, rocking slowly.

He kisses down the front of my neck, opening my robe to get to my breasts.  He licks my nipples as he keeps working at me with his fingers, and I groan loudly.  He moves his mouth back up, licking between my breasts and up over my chin.  He kisses me lightly and then stares intently as he slows the rhythm of his fingers and grins.

“Gotta get dressed.”  He leaves me panting as he heads off to the bedroom.  I can hear him going through the closet while my thighs clench and my nipples tingle.  A few minutes later, he’s back in the living room with his shirt hanging open, and I’m still frustrated.

He grins from the kitchen as he starts to button his shirt.

“Ugh!  Why do you do this to me?” I cry as I lean backwards on the couch.  My robe opens completely, and I hope it’s enough of a temptation to make him chance being late.

Deklan comes up behind me, wraps an arm around my waist as I squeal.  He pulls me up until my butt is on the arm of the couch and my back is against his chest.  His shirt is still mostly unbuttoned, and I can feel his warm skin on my neck.  He reaches under my robe again to stroke me.

“Because I want you to start every day with my fingers right here.”  He punctuates the words by sliding his fingers inside me, stroking them in and out slowly.  He runs his nose along my neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.  “I want you unsatisfied.  I want to be the only thing on your mind.  I want you hot and wet and so frustrated that all you can think about is my cock throbbing inside of you.”

With a quick kiss on my neck, he removes his fingers and lowers me back to the couch.  I’m completely unable to speak as he finishes buttoning his shirt, grabs his jacket, and heads for the door.

“Wait for me.”  Deklan looks at me over his shoulder as he turns the doorknob.  “No masturbating today.”

I groan, and he winks and snickers as he walks out of the apartment.

“Bastard,” I say quietly when he’s gone.  I shake my head and resist the urge to finish myself off.  I’ll have to go the cold shower route for now, but I’m going to make him pay for that when he gets home.

I shower and dress.  I make the bed and do the breakfast dishes.  I try to watch daytime television but quickly get disgusted with every show on every channel and turn it off.  I stare at my phone for a long minute, wishing it would magically turn into something that wasn’t easily traced so I could use it.  I’m actually starting to miss Facebook drama.

Strangely enough, I do not miss my parents—at all.  Other than the one nasty text from my father using my mother’s phone, I haven’t heard a peep from either of them—not that they could have called since my phone is always off, but I wonder if they still think about me.

The day drags.

Every inch of the apartment sparkles.  I even polished the shower fixtures.  I’ve done my nails—fingers and toes.  Dinner is in the oven and should be done just as Deklan arrives home.  The kitchen island is set with dishes and silverware.

Though it had seemed very important to me at the time, I no longer care that I don’t live in a huge mansion.  Deklan’s apartment is simple, and I rather like it this way.  Of course, if it were bigger, I’d have more rooms to clean.  It would make the time pass more quickly.

I stare out the window that overlooks the street and watch for someone to head down the sidewalk, but the apartment is an out-of-the way place, and there isn’t a lot of foot traffic.  A few cars pass by, but the angle is wrong for me to see the people inside.

Sighing, I resolve to finish the book.  I only have a couple of chapters left, which I want to savor.  I settle myself on the couch with the e-reader and a glass of water, wondering if boredom is why housewives turn to wine and vodka.

I browse the previous chapter so I can remember what was going on and lose myself in the story after only a few minutes.

A knock on the door breaks me from my trance.  Automatically, I stand and head over to open it when it occurs to me that no one has ever knocked on the door before.

I freeze as Deklan’s words about enemies rattle around in my head, making it impossible for me to think rational thoughts.  All I know is that I’m not going anywhere near the door.  Who could possibly be knocking, and what do they want?  Is it someone looking for Deklan?  If so, what do I tell them?  Do I just ignore the knocking, which is getting louder, or tell whomever it is to go away?  What if they try to break down the door?

My arms and legs tense with fight or flight notions, but I don’t even know which one to choose.  I wrap my arms around myself as I look around the apartment, wondering where I could hide, but there’s only the bedroom closet, which is the first place an intruder would check.  Maybe Deklan has another gun hidden somewhere, but I don’t even know where to look.

“Phone,” I whisper to myself and tiptoe over to the kitchen drawer where the burner phone with Deklan’s number on it resides.  My hands shake as I try to find the right button to turn it on.

The voice from the other side of the door startles me as much as the knocking.

“Kera?  Kera!  It’s Brian.”

“Brian?”  I grip the phone in my fist and walk softly to the door to look through the peephole.  Brian is standing on the other side.  He glances down the hall as he hops from one foot to the other.  His leg must have healed, because there is no sign of the crutch he was using when I first met him. I lean against the door.  “What are you doing here?”

“Dek sent me.”

I lick my lips and narrow my eyes at the distorted figure through the hole.  It is definitely Brian, but why would Deklan send him here without telling me first?  Something is wrong.

“He didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“You don’t have to let me in,” Brian says.  “He’s just gonna be late and didn’t want you to worry.”

“Where is he?”  Deklan has been late plenty of times and never felt the need to notify me before.  What’s changed?

“Um…”  Brian dances on the balls of his feet again.  “He um…”

“Out with it, Brian.”

“He got hurt.”

“Hurt?  Hurt how?  Where is he?”

“He’ll be all right,” Brian says.  “Just zigged when he should have zagged, I guess.  He’s in surgery, but they said he’d be f—”

“Surgery?”  I grab the doorknob and throw the door open.  “Surgery for what?”

“Just a little mishap.”  His words are obviously meant to soothe, but the lack of real information has the opposite effect.

“What happened to him?”

“He…uh…He got mugged.”

“Mugged?”  I glare at Brian.  No one in their right mind would see Deklan as a viable target for easy mugging.  “What kind of bullshit is that?”

“Really,” Brian says, “he’s fine—cursing and pissy, but fine.  Surgery is too strong a word.  He just needs a few stitches.”

Apparently, I’m not going to get a straight answer out of Brian.  Better to get it from the horse’s mouth.

“Where is he?”

“County Hospital.”

“Take me.”  I reach over and grab my jacket from the hook and pull it on.

“He didn’t say anything about bringing you there.”  Brian rubs his hand over his mouth and chin as he shakes his head slightly.  “I dunno if I should.”

“You are going to fucking take me to him right fucking now!”

Brian’s eyes go wide, and he wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans.  He stares at me with his mouth hanging open, and I can see the debate going on in his head.  I take a step forward and point my finger at his nose.

“You are going to take me to the hospital right this fucking second, or I’m going to tell Deklan you made a pass at me.”

“I…I didn’t!  I would never!”

“But I’ll tell him you did.  Who do you think he’ll believe?”

Brian licks his lips, and his shoulders fall slightly.

“Do we have an understanding?” I ask.

“Yes, ma’am.”