She really should’ve known I wasn’t gonna let this shit lie.

I mean, my wife knew me by now, right?

Maggie had to know sooner or later I’d be pressing her to tell the universe we were married.

Or someone else would tell… and I’d just go along with it. Maybe I wouldn’t blab just yet, but I wasn’t gonna deny it if it came out. I wasn’t gonna lie about it, and I wasn’t gonna be ashamed.

Fuck shame. I had none.

As I watched Maggie eating her mushroom risotto, one of her favorite meals, way too quietly, I figured she already suspected I was buttering her up because I was itching to spill. Brag to the media. Shout it from the rooftops. Piss her name in the snow.

She already had my name tattooed on her finger. Might as well brand her with hickies and start wearing matching shit.

I wasn’t exactly a quiet, private or subtle dude. I definitely lacked manners, tact, and that impulse control thing she was always going on about.

I would’ve happily leaked a sex tape, if the thought of random assholes jacking off to my wife didn’t make my trigger finger itch.

But I had no problem with the entire fucking universe knowing I owned that sweet ass.

Fortunately for me, it now kinda did.

Unfortunately for me, Maggie was gonna be pissed about it.

I was pretty sure about that.

She hadn’t said a word since she started eating, but she did keep glancing my way through narrowed eyes, like she was reading my fucked-up thoughts. “Aren’t you going to finish your lunch?”

“I’m good.”

Truth was I was too worked up to eat. Too antsy going over all the shit in my head I wanted to say but didn’t quite know how to.

How to tell her about the Maxxi shit?

How not to make her pissed at me when I did?

How not to freak her the fuck out by staring at her too long without saying anything at all?

I decided to stop staring at her and looked out the window of the jet instead, into the sea of clouds below. I relaxed back into my seat. It was a five-and-a-half-hour drive up to Detroit from Louisville, so I figured we’d fly in style instead. Maggie didn’t seem to find anything suspicious about that, at first.

But I knew the way I was acting was tweaking her Zane’s-up-to-shit radar.

Maggie had sharp radar.

And I was definitely up to shit.

I’d never actually cared about upsetting people with whatever came out of my mouth before. I definitely lacked a filter, but fuck it. I didn’t like being filtered. Wasn’t used to anyone telling me what I could and couldn’t say.

Brody and our publicity team gave me “suggestions.”

I usually ignored them.

I was used to saying whatever the fuck I wanted and maybe apologizing for it later.

Maybe.

Having to consider what my wife would think and how she’d feel about everything that came out of my mouth, before it came out of my mouth, was like a whole new fucking world.

Seth was right.

No idea if it was just because I was an addict, and/or because I was an only child or my parents died when I was so young, or because I’d become so successful I was used to getting my way with most things… but I was selfish. And getting used to putting someone else’s needs right up front with my own? Took some getting used to.

But practice makes perfect, right?

And maybe Seth was right about something else. Motivation was key. I had to have a reason for doing the right thing, and that reason had to be internal.

And it was.

I wanted to ace this husband thing.

I figured I’d been doing pretty good with it—so far.

Maggie and I hadn’t gotten into any serious arguments since Vegas—nine weeks and counting. I was keeping up with going to AA meetings, hitting the gym, eating well and sleeping well, and generally keeping my shit together.

I was making this shit look good, too. I knew I was. People kept telling me so. Even people who had no idea I’d kicked pot and had no reason to comment that I looked or sounded better or whatever.

I was getting positive feedback left and right; that was a fact.

And not just from chicks.

The crew seemed to think I was a nicer dude now, too. Guys who used to steer clear of me backstage were starting to look me in the eye and wish me a good show.

Felt good.

Who knew not being such a self-obsessed prick would make life so much more enjoyable?

I’d even apologized to Talia for threatening to fire her, and apologized to a few other people for various shit I’d pulled.

I’d gradually gotten back into a routine of promo work; no solo interviews, but interviews with the other members of my band, no more than two a day. And I hadn’t even slipped or put my foot in my mouth at any of those interviews.

But no one was exactly asking about my sobriety or my marriage, because neither of these topics had hit the media.

Until this morning.

It was pretty much my personal version of hell to have to sit through interview after interview fucking dodging every question about my personal life and being all fucking evasive and secretive, but I’d been doing it. For Maggie.

No; for my relationship with Maggie.

All the while, I just wanted to shout the truth in everyone’s faces.

I’m in love with Maggie Omura, oh, and by the way, we’re married. Send gifts.

Except…

Maggie would’ve been pissed. And not the kind of pissed that could be channeled into sexual frustration and end in a nice angry fuck. Like seriously pissed—the kind where she stopped fucking me and talking to me.

Wasn’t going down that road, ever again, if I could help it.

So, I’d bit my fucking tongue and slogged through the torture.

And I kept doing my best to make my wife happy. Not something I had a great track record with, but I was figuring it out. I was finally learning all the ways besides sex I could put a smile on Maggie Omura’s face, and I was committing this shit to memory.

Coffee with honey in the morning, mocha if she could get it.

Chocolate.

Yoga.

A few hours of quiet each day to get work done and some time alone every few days, usually involving a bubble bath or the spa, for “Maggie time.”

Time to chat with her girls.

High-heeled shoes.

Pretty pink shit.

These were the things that made Maggie Omura happy, day-to-day.

She also liked it when I washed her hair in the shower, and when I had deep conversations with her that didn’t lead to sex. Go figure. Took me a while to figure that one out, but it definitely went a long way to making Maggie happy when we spent quality time together without me putting the moves on.

Bonus: it usually made her so happy she ended up putting the moves on me anyway.

Win-win.

Oh, and girl-on-top. Because sexual satisfaction was now a guaranteed way to give Maggie that happy glow. And no matter who was calling the shots, Maggie loved being on top when we had sex.

And let’s be honest; she was usually calling the shots. Even if I pretended it was otherwise.

Since I loved her being on top, that was another win-win anyway. And even if she was calling the shots… I could still make her lose her shit.

So no one was complaining.

Which got me thinking…

I glanced over at her. She’d finished her risotto and the flight attendant was clearing away our plates. Maggie met my eyes and gave me a hesitant smile.

I knew I wasn’t supposed to be trying to solve problems with sex anymore… but fuck it. My head was already deep in the gutter. And in my books, it was always the right time for sex.

I’d once fucked a girl at a funeral, so there was that.

Shame; I had none.

If Maggie was pissed at me, I knew it was gonna be harder to make her lose her shit. So instead, I figured I’d make her happy first, before she got pissed at me.

This was my entire plan.

One, make her happy.

Two, make her lose her shit.

And three, when she was in the happy afterglow phase, break the Maxxi thing to her gently.

Shouldn’t be too hard… We were alone, on a private jet; just me and Maggie. I’d had the two rooms of the cabin filled with pink flowers for her, and the one in the back had a bed. I’d made sure of that.

When the flight attendant set the piece of nine-layer chocolate cake in front of her, though, she was definitely on to me.

“You’re up to something,” she said as she eyed the thick slice of cake. “You know I know that, right?”

“Can’t a guy treat his girl to a private jet?”

She narrowed her gray eyes at me.

“Aren’t you gonna eat your cake?”

She ate her cake.

* * *

After she ate, I showed her the room in back. There was a flimsy door between the two rooms that I shut, then I tugged her straight toward the bed.

Maggie’s eyes widened when she saw it… but she couldn’t exactly be shocked that what I was “up to” was angling to get laid.

“What if the flight attendant comes back here?” she asked, eying the flimsy door.

“He’s not gonna bother us. You’re hot as fuck and there’s a bed. You think he doesn’t know why I brought you back here?” I was already taking off her clothes, peeling off her little ruffled top and her skirt. I left on her sexy boots, picked her up by the waist and tossed her on the bed.

Then I stripped down myself. Slowly. While she watched me, her eyes glazing over with lust as I skimmed my shirt over my head, then started undoing my jeans.

“And none of this five-minutes-til-I-make-Zane-blow bullshit,” I told her, getting a little distracted as I watched her strip off her bra. “We’ve got another half-hour in the air, I’m fucking you every second of it.”

“Okay.” She tugged her panties down and off, a wicked gleam flashing in her eyes as I shoved my jeans down. “But you know you can’t last that long…”

Challenge accepted.

“What am I, thirteen?” I kicked off my jeans and socks.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Even you weren’t having sex at thirteen, so don’t start.”

I prowled over to her, naked. “You know, I can last longer than ten seconds.” I stood over her and let my eyes roam over her body as I rolled on the condom. She was laid out before me on her back, naked, her knees pulled up and slightly spread so I could see every part of her. “It’s not my fault you’re so hot and so damn greedy, you want it fast and five-hundred times a night.”

She did.

Maggie loved it when I finished fast. Go-fucking-figure. With other women, swear to Christ, I could fuck for hours. “Sex god” and all that shit; I’d earned my reputation with women for good reason. You could ask those other women.

But with Maggie, I lost my shit almost every fucking time. Something about this woman just fucked with me in a major way.

“Five times,” she said, as I laid my hands on her knees and spread them. “I believe that’s our record…”

I settled onto the bed, kneeling over her. Her gray eyes were wide and dark as she watched me. So fucking beautiful. “I remember. I was sore the next day.” I lowered myself over her, forcing her legs wide. “Totally worth it.”

It was. This past week, we’d fucked so many times I’d lost count. She could’ve broken every bone in my body and I’d still want to fuck her.

“What can I say?” she teased, wrapping her arms and legs around me as I started rubbing my cock against her soft pussy. “I’m a quantity over quality type of girl…”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Why?”

“Because. You chose this dick… you chose the best, baby.”

Maggie laughed her husky-soft laugh. Then she shoved at me a little, tried to push me over so she could roll on top.

“Uh-uh,” I said, pinning her down. “I’m on top, and you’re doing what I say.” I had her thighs open wide with my spread knees, one hand in the middle of her chest, holding her down, and I started grinding my dick against her. I was hellbent on keeping control. Much as I loved giving it up to her, she wasn’t taking it this time.

She wriggled beneath me, increasing the friction, and she started making those husky little gasping noises I knew so well as she tried to rub herself off on my dick.

“And slow the fuck down,” I ordered, even as my voice got low and rough with lust. “You’re not going off until I say.”

“What? You don’t want to rush it, fine. But I’m gonna get me some.”

“No, you’re not.”

I peeled her arms off me and pinned her wrists above her head. I leaned low on my elbows and got in her face, fusing my body to hers as I slowly but forcefully pushed the head of my cock into her.

She gasped and moaned. “Zane… yeah.”

And the fact that she loved it? Went straight to my balls and took all the blood in my head with it.

I shoved my way in slowly, deeper… until I bottomed out and the heat swept through my body. The feeling of being squeezed by her, so hot and tight, the pressure gripping me… Pure fucking heaven.

Maggie squirmed, wanting more, but I just stayed like this, deep inside her, for a long moment. I kissed her, catching her full bottom lip and nibbling as she squirmed. But I was holding onto control.

Just barely.

“You gonna calm down?”

She blinked at me, dazed. “What?”

“Stop wiggling around and calm down, I’ll feed you some more cock.” I kissed her softly. “You like that?”

Her eyelids lowered and maybe she tried to glare at me a bit; didn’t really work. She relaxed a little beneath me. “Okay.”

I lifted my hips, drawing my dick back out to the very tip, and slamming back in. Maggie’s eyes rolled closed and she breathed this soft, raspy sound… “Baby…” she sighed.

And that was about it.

My self-control went out the window without a fucking parachute.

I buried my tongue in her mouth, squeezed her wrists tight and started fucking her hard and deep, kind of mid-tempo and hungry. I wasn’t chasing the finish, but I wasn’t holding back either. I wasn’t even thinking about coming. I just wanted to make Maggie come. Feel her shiver and shake and run out of breath in my arms and fall the fuck apart.

Make her feel the way she always made me feel…

I wasn’t gonna eat her out or play with her clit or tease her to get her there. I was just gonna smother her until all she could feel with every part of her hot little body was me. I was gonna crush her, devour her, fuck the hell out of that tight, swollen little pussy of hers until she screamed so loud they heard it in the cockpit.

So that’s what I did, with single-minded focus.

I fucked her until I was lost, too. Until all I could feel was her body pinned beneath mine. All I could taste was her taste; chocolate cake and Maggie. All I could hear were her soft, panting cries in my mouth, against my skin. All I could breathe was her soft smell.

Until her pussy convulsed around my dick and she screamed… that soft, ragged Maggie scream that totally did me in.

I felt the rush, the high of making her come gripping me… and the pleasure tearing right through me.

My balls seized and my cock blew up. I drove into her hard, shooting deep, as she murmured, “Yes…” against my skin. I felt her nails digging into me, her teeth in my neck, her grip on me heightening the pleasure.

Fucking Christ. No way I could hold that one back.

Maggie panted softly beneath me, kissing my neck and kinda humming happily. As my body gradually relaxed against hers, she twitched and squirmed a little. I was still inside her and every time she moved, it sent a twinge of raw pleasure up my spine.

“Fuck…” I sighed. “Sorry, babe. I couldn’t even help it…”

“I loved it,” she said, her voice soft. She gazed up at me. “Why do you apologize? I love it when you come.”

“Yeah. Can’t even hold it back with you. You just make me lose my shit…”

Her gray eyes searched mine. “Why does it bother you?”

“That I can’t last for shit with you?” I rolled off her, carefully pulling out. “Because I’d love to be able to fuck you for hours, obviously.”

“You do fuck me for hours. Just because you come multiple times, and so do I, it’s not a fail, Zane. I love that you can’t hold back. Don’t you know that?” She drifted her hand over my chest and down my abs, making my muscles tighten. Everything was so fucking sensitive.

Maggie knew it. She leaned in and flicked my pierced nipple with her tongue, sending pleasure sparking through my body. Then she sucked it into her mouth, and Jesus Christ, I wanted to fuck her again.

Then she kissed her way up my chest. “I love it that you lose control with me,” she told me. “I love making you lose control.” She smoothed my hair back from my face and smirked. “I guess this is the one area of your life that I don’t mind you being so out of control. So unpredictable.”

“It’s predictable as fuck, Maggie.” I relaxed beneath her with a satisfied sigh as she lay half on top of me. “Get you anywhere near my dick, and I can tell you exactly what’s gonna happen.”

She grinned at me. “Well, your dick’s not complaining, and neither am I. So just enjoy it.”

My gaze wandered down her face to her tits, which were pressed against me. “Never said I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Good.”

She started to sit up, and my dick twitched at the sight of her perfect naked breasts, her perky, rosy nipples. “Fuck it. Let’s do it again.”

She laughed.

* * *

“I know what this is about, Zane.”

I looked over at Maggie as we got dressed; she was tucking her top into her skirt as I did up my jeans. We didn’t end up doing it again. I would’ve loved to have this conversation while we were horizontal, but the jet was about to descend and the flight attendant had already knocked on the door.

“You want us to tell everyone we’re together,” she said gently. “I know you do. You bring it up every day.”

“I do? Thought I was being subtle.”

“This is your idea of subtle? A private jet and a florist’s entire stock of pink flowers?”

“Two florists, actually.”

She just shook her head at me.

“You don’t like it?”

She sighed. “What girl wouldn’t like it?”

“What was your favorite part?” I asked her, seriously. I was pretty bent on adding more shit to that growing list of things that made her happy.

She glanced down my body as I pulled on my shirt. “I’d have to say the bed was a nice touch.”

“Yeah?” Fully dressed, I walked over to her.

“Yeah,” she said as I took her in my arms. “I’ve never mile-highed it before.”

I grinned and kissed her. “Fuck, I love deflowering you…”

“But… I’m still not ready to go public,” she said firmly. “It’s not that I don’t want everyone to know, Zane—in theory.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. The hell did that mean?

“I don’t like hiding it any more than you do,” she said. “Honestly. I just don’t want to rush this.”

“This?” I kissed her again.

“Yeah.” She softened against me. “This thing between us. It’s real and it’s good, and even though I’ve loved you for so long, this is new. You and me. And when we share it with the world, it’s gonna change. It could be a big change or it could be a small change, but it will change. It’ll be different when everyone knows. And for just a little while, I want this to just be ours.”

“Okay, Maggie.” I kissed her on the forehead, then let her go. “But I really don’t think our relationship is gonna change just because people know.”

“I wish that were the case. But I don’t think that’s realistic.” She seemed to consider the look on my face, then sighed. “I know. I’m a buzzkill. I swear, I keep hoping it won’t be a big deal. But literally the day I started wearing the ring, people started asking.” She waved her left hand at me, where she wore the wedding band. “I mean, the girls started asking. Katie. Amber. Even Jessa messaged me from Vancouver to tell me she’d heard, probably from Katie. And Brody keeps doing this thing… Whenever we finish a conversation, he goes silent for a moment, like he’s waiting for me to say something. I don’t, because I’m still figuring out how to explain to him what this is and how it’s not going to affect my job. I just haven’t found the words yet.”

“I know, Maggs.”

She gazed up at me, chewing on her lip a bit. “I told the girls that you and I are working on things, privately, and I asked them to give me some space. They were totally supportive, of course. But I keep trying to figure out how to face up to all the little lies I’ve had to tell and answer all their burning questions, and it all just seems so daunting. I don’t even know how I can begin to deal with it and deal with us at the same time, you know?”

“I think you’re making it a lot harder than it has to be,” I told her, gently.

“Yeah. You know, I used to think that was your domain. You were always making everything too difficult. But now I can see what you mean… I don’t exactly make life easy, do I?”

“You make my life better. That’s all that matters to me.”

Total truth.

She smiled at me softly. “Thank you.”

I wanted to smile back, but it felt wrong. I really, really didn’t want to fuck up all these good vibes we had going between us—for one thing, we were now able to calmly discuss our personal shortcomings without going off on each other, and that was fucking refreshing—but we were heading back to Earth and soon enough, she was gonna turn her phone back on.

So I took her hands in mine. “Maggie… I’ve gotta tell you something.”

She stared at me, and as those words and the seriousness of my tone sank in, I could see the trepidation in her eyes. I could feel it as she started to brace herself for the worst.

And what would the worst be, in her mind?

I’d fallen off the wagon?

I’d fucked someone else?

“There was a story this morning online,” I told her. “Brody sent it to me. I’m sure he sent it to you, too… but you know how I confiscated your phone?”

She blinked at me, and I could see her pulling the pieces together in her head. How I’d bounced out of bed this morning and grabbed her phone, shoved it down my pants and told her she wasn’t working today because we were gonna spend the day together.

Then she pulled her hands from mine. “Yes…?” she said, warily.

“Our wedding in Vegas was mentioned in the article.”

She stared at me. “What about our wedding?”

“It was an eyewitness account. From someone who was there.”

“I know what an eyewitness account is,” she said, her tone cooling. “Are you telling me my dad talked to the media about us?”

“It wasn’t your dad. It was that girl he brought to the wedding.”

“Maxxi?” She gaped at me, stunned. “That little… My dad’s girlfriend talked to the media about us?”

“She, uh, said a whole shitload of stuff about your dad, too. We weren’t exactly the focus of the story. But yeah, she threw our wedding in there. I’m thinking they must’ve had a falling out or something? And she felt the need to expose all his private shit to try to hurt him?”

“Oh.” Maggie sat down on the edge of the bed. “Shit,” she muttered. And that was it.

She was taking this pretty fucking well, considering I’d been mentally preparing for a screaming fit.

There was a knock on the door. “The pilot requests that you take your seats and buckle in…” the flight attendant called in, for the second time.

“We’ve gotta go sit down,” I told Maggie gently, reaching for her.

She looked up at me, but she didn’t take my hand. And that’s when I really saw the look in her eyes.

Nope. She wasn’t taking this well.

Not at all.

“You stole my phone and hijacked me so I couldn’t see it? So I couldn’t react?”

“So it wouldn’t totally ruin your day,” I corrected her, “and we could talk about it before either of us reacted.”

She stared at me. She wasn’t yelling, but somehow, as she glanced at my hand and refused to take it, this felt worse. She looked resigned and fucking disappointed, like she couldn’t even be bothered to fight. “You don’t even care, do you?”

“Of course I care.”

“You care how I’m going to react. But you don’t care that it’s out there.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Maggie. I don’t give a shit that it’s out there.”

She got to her feet and looked into my eyes, ignoring the hand I’d offered her. She shook her head at me with that disappointment in her eyes. She didn’t touch me, but somehow it felt worse than a slap in the face.

Then she whispered, “I need to talk to my dad,” and left the room.