Page 31 of Betrothed in Fury
“Heard about? I saw you getting head and that Wilde tearing the other guy apart. Better than porn.”
I shoot him a glare as he settles about a foot from me. I don’t like that he watched either of those things, but with Rage…well, he’s gonna do whatever the fuck he wants. And I’ve learned you can only beat the tar out of someone so much before surrendering.
He sidles up beside me, a little too close, before draping his arm across my shoulders. “I almost went to give your future husband some company, but he seemed real tuckered out from all the killing.”
A flash of rage and ringing in my ears—I’m barely thinking as I discard the pruning shears. I turn, fists clenched, and he jumps back.
“Whoa, whoa, I’m just giving you hell, man. Can’t you take a joke?”
“Not this morning.”
He rolls his eyes as I take a swing. He dodges it, but I keep coming at him, this part of me that won’t be satisfied until I land one. This isn’t about getting him back; it’s about quieting the discomfort in me, though I know the relief this will give me will be so brief, like getting that amazing blowjob from Logan. No pleasure ever gives relief for very long.
While I issue a few more swings, Rage laughs, dodging until I snatch his arm, then his throat, stilling him in place. “You ever touch Logan, and I’ll tear this pretty face right off.”
“Gee, bro. You think I’m pretty?” he strains to say. “Shucks.” The word is barely audible as I crush down on his windpipe.
It’s impossible to stay mad at Rage, even when he’s unbearable, so I take a measured breath and release him.
“Was that the best you got?” he asks.
“If you want to play, just let me know.”
His amused expression shifts to panic. Even Rage knows when he’s about to take things one step too far.
“Aw, come on. Why are you in such a mood this morning? Last night seemed great. I got off twice, once more than you.”
His question tugs at that heaviness within me, weighing on me like a slab of stone, steadily compacting against my chest. I fetch my discarded shears off the ground and return to pruning. “Just grappling with the idea of becoming a married man.”
“Frustrated that this is the only man you’ll be fucking from now on?” he asks, and at my look, he says, “Kidding. I assume you’ll both be fucking plenty of other people.”
Evidence that he hasn’t reinstalled any audio devices around the house.
“No,” I say.
He flinches. “Excuse me?”
“If we’re married, then we’re just each other’s. I made that clear to Logan.”
“No wonder you guys haven’t sealed the deal. Why would you do that?”
“It’s in the agreement.”
“For when it was about Mom and Dad. No one cares about fidelity anymore. Plenty of people are married and having polyamorous relationships. It’s not a big deal.”
“This is why I can’t talk to you about these things.” Unlike Logan, Rage will never understand what it means to be the firstborn, what it means to carry on your shoulders the crushing weight of responsibility. But it’s something I’m happy about because I would rather take this burden than pass it along to him. He should never know what it truly means to stand at this place in the family.
“He better be a real good lay, then,” Rage says.
“He will be.” After what he did to my cock last night, there’s no doubt in my mind. It’s more than that, though. There’s a connection beyond what he can do with that mouth or even what a sexy motherfucker he is. But now, that connection scares me, so I try to shake it off.
“You could always teach him, if it wasn’t good,” Rage says, offering me reprieve from my thoughts.
“You’re really testing me this morning.”
“I didn’t even know he was into dudes, but the way he was working your dick, there’s no question there.”
I wish I could let that go, but as is his way, he’s struck at something. “What do you mean?”
