“What are you doing?” Faith grumbles. Her voice sounds sleepy, but I’d lay odds on the fact that she wasn’t really asleep. I’ve pulled her up against my body, her legs hanging off one of my arms and her neck and head hanging off the other. Her ass is rubbing against my stomach and I wish it was a little lower—even if I shouldn’t.

I have been remembering our wild night of sex—our wedding night—repeatedly while trying to find Faith. Each memory I began having was better and more explicit than the one before. Still, I was way too drunk to have terrific recall. Mostly I remembered the things we did and said. Details were indeed fuzzy. The glimpses I got of her body in the bathroom earlier—of that fucking fantastic ass and those cock-stand inducing legs—heated through my system with the force of a wildfire, burning me from the inside out. Faith is danger and I’d be wise to leave her alone… Instead I’m carrying her to my bed and giving new meaning to the term playing with fire.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” I tell her and if my voice sounds pissed it’s her fault.

“You’re giving up the bed?” she says, her voice filled with pleasure. “That’s so sweet. I may have misjudged you, Titan. We should begin again. We can be friends this time,” she whispers, her face burrowing into my neck as she loops her arms around me. I roll my eyes, not bothering to reply. I don’t understand women, never really pretended to, but this one is in a category all her own and I really don’t get her. I put her on the left side of the bed and then walk around to the other one and slide under the covers. “Titan!” she shrieks as I pull the covers up over us.

“Tone it down, woman. You’ll have management after us.” I yawn out the words. I’ve been out of the shower for hours. I’ve been watching television and waiting for my body to warm up after the cold water. Now I’m tired, still cold and so damned horny my dick aches. All of these things are Faith’s fault, so I’m not fooling with her shit.

“You can’t get in bed with me!” she argues and again she’s shrieking. I open my eyes to look at her, all the while trying to ignore how good she looks with her hair rumpled from lying on the couch, her tank top molded to her body and giving me hints of cleavage and holding her tits like a fucking second skin.

“But I am. Now can you crank it down a few hundred notches and let’s go to sleep.”

“I… But you said you were giving me the bed and going to the couch.”

“I didn’t say that. You assumed that. And you know what they say about assuming.”

“Then I’ll go back to the sofa,” she argues.

“And then you’ll run away in the middle of the night. Been there, wife. Not doing it again.”

“Oh come on. I told you I’ll stay until you get the papers from your lawyer.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t like you.”

“I could remind you of exactly what you did like about me,” I tell her, my voice a dare I hope she takes me up on.

“In your dreams, Big Daddy,” she mumbles. “I’ll just go in—”

I reach out and grab her hand and pull her to me. She falls against my chest, leaving our faces a mere inch away from one another.

“I already told you, I don’t trust you. You’ll stay in this bed so I know where you are.”

“You can’t be serious. Did you forget that I left our hotel room while you were next to me in Vegas?”

“I’m glad you brought that up. I thought of that,” I tell her and I have a hard time keeping the smile off my face.

“You did?” she asks and the worry in her tone lets me know I didn’t succeed in hiding my smile at all. Oh well. I keep my hand around her wrist, not letting her go and lean over to the nightstand to open the drawer. While Faith was showering earlier, I hid my little surprise there. I feel around in the drawer and when my fingers wrap around the cool metal I loop a finger in it and pull it out. I flop over to my back and grin at a Faith whose eyes have gone large and round in shock and maybe a little worry.

She should be worried.

I dangle a pair of handcuffs, letting them swing back and forth.

“I brought you a little gift since I know how much you like games in the bedroom.”

“No. No way in hell, Titan. You will not—” Before she can finish the sentence I’ve closed the loop of the handcuff around her wrist—letting it replace my hand. “—I can’t believe you did that,” she cries.

“Believe it, sweet cheeks.” I laugh, connecting the other cuff to my wrist. I hold back another laugh when she beats her hand against my chest. It’s not easy though. For some reason, right now I’m happier than I’ve been… since the night I got married.

Shit.