Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“I’ll let Baird know, Sir.”
“Wes.”
“Wes,” he politely corrects. “I’ll begin preparations. Is there anything else we need to know?”
“Not at this time. I’ll call back if that changes.”
“Understood, S – er – Wes.”
Ending the call is followed by sliding the device back into my pocket despite knowing there are a few more people to contact to make this whole thing possible.
They can wait.
At least for a few minutes while I make up with my wife.
“Bryn…” I casually call out the direction of our ensuite bathroom. “You in here?”
“I am,” she sassily answers, appearing in the doorway wearing only the bawdy sweater she had on earlier. “What do you need, Mr. Wilcox?”
To remove that hideous article with my teeth is not the correct answer.
It may be the answer I want to be correct; however, I know that it isn’t.
“To apologize to you, Mrs. Wilcox.”
At that, the love of my life leans triumphantly against the frame. “You have my full attention.”
“You were right.”
“That’s why I wear the gold shirt.”
Not smirking is impossible. “You’re actually wearing a sweater.”
She looks down at the thick black material, pretends to gasp, and says, “You’re right. This is a sweater. I should just take it off.” In one effortless swoop, she banishes the object into the bathroom behind her, unveiling the bright red, ribbons and bow based lingerie set that was hiding underneath. “Anyway, you were saying?”
That my wife is a supervillain I’d absolutely let burn Gotham down to the ground if it meant making her happy.
“Have you…” I attempt to banish the low, hungry rumble stuck in my throat, “been wearing this underneath your attire all day?”
“I have.”
“For me.”
“For when you came to your senses.” Arrogance curls the corners of her lips. “Good behavior should be rewarded, Mr. Wayne.” Wolfish growls are attached to me creeping closer, an action swiftly stopped by the lifting of her palm. “Ah. Ah.” My figure completely freezes. “You were apologizing for something? Perhaps for being a complete and total d-bag earlier? Perhaps for implying that because I chose to lead parenting our son with sympathy and empathy and patience, I was weak?”
“I was out of line.”
“You were out of the fucking galaxy, Wes.”
“Yes.”
Her shoulders noticeably relax.
“You know our son better than I do. You’ve always known him better than I do, and I let my own personal rage regarding that blind me to what was actually happening, which was you doing what was best for him. Giving him space. Doing what you could to keep the situation from escalating.”
She lets one hand victoriously fall to her hip. “Go on.”
“You’re…an incredible mom, Bryn-”
“Agreed.”
“-and I’m a struggling dad.”
Compassion crumples her frame slightly forward. “Wes…”
“It’s true.” An innocent shrug precedes me inching closer again. “But the only way to struggle less is to learn more.” Her body slowly begins to come towards mine. “To stop…treating our family – especially our son – like I’m the boss and everyone just works for me.” She continues closing the gap between us. “We’re all in this together. All of us have needs. And wants. And fears. And I need to be more receptive to that.”
“Our son – in particular – would appreciate that.”
“I know.” My arms wind around her waist the second she’s within reach. “He expressed as much.”
Joy accompanies Bryn running her hands up my biceps. “You two talked?”
“We did.”
“And?”
“And we’re going to Doctenn for Christmas.”
Relief unyieldingly rolls around her expression.
“I’ve already been in touch with our pilot; however, I still need to contact Mildred, our property keeper, Park – about a last-minute security plan – Temps – to help the girls pack and see if they wanna go – Clark and Lauren, J.T. and Nae, plus I need to get in touch with Brie and Kellan to see if it’s possible that they can make time for their daughter to even see our son.”
“Of course, it’s possible,” Bryn boastfully beams. “We’re having Christmas dinner with them at the palace.”
My head falls to one side in disbelief.
“Yeah, so, while I was actively supporting your ‘no’ – because you know parents united front bullshit – I was also actively putting things in place for the hopeful ‘yes’.” Her smile swiftly stretches from ear to ear. “And by I, I mean we because let’s face it. When it comes to planning shit – especially big family shit – no one is better at it than Mom and Clark.”
“So, everyone and everything is pretty much ready to go?”
“They’re just waiting on your green light, Saint Dick.”
“What I’m about to do with my dick is far from saintly.” Before she can even consider scrambling away, my fingers slide along the curve of her ass and possessively clamp down. “Can I unwrap my gift now, Little Prey?”
The love of my life bites her bottom lip.
Lightly hums in feigned contemplation.
“Tell me yes.” I slide my middle finger underneath the thin string and lightly press it against the backside of her recently waxed pussy causing her mouth to crack open just enough for my thumb to slip into the gap where it teasingly traces the space. “I see my name right here.” Delicious defiance dancing in her crystal gaze prompts me to push the tip of my digit deeper into the wet warmth that’s wordlessly begging for it. “Tell me I can have what’s mine.”