C14, PT. 4

She wrapped her arm around Roth’s shoulders, as he started toward Heinrich. “Honey, isn’t this great?” she gushed brightly. “Heinrich’s wife and I are going to get together for some girl talk, so he’ll pass my number onto her.”

Mo appeared as Roth halted within arm’s length of Heinrich, who was grinning unrepentantly.

“See you at nine,” Heinrich said to Roth and nodded at her before he ambled toward the weights, humming, as he put his headphones back on.

She was glad he didn’t push the issue about her phone number. She had a feeling Roth would have gone for his throat. Mo and Johan seemed to agree. They were watching their boss, who hadn’t moved a muscle. To break the tension, she hopped off the treadmill and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Let’s go,” she murmured.

Roth slipped his arm over her shoulders and tucked her against him more tightly than was necessary, but she didn’t complain. She led him toward the exit and was aware that the dozen or so men scattered throughout the gym all turned to watch. Maybe the gym at this hour was sacred bro time and she’d unknowingly broken the code.

 When they were in the hallway, she explained, “Heinrich asked me to meet with his wife, who doesn’t speak much English and hasn’t made many friends.”

“How is that your problem?” he bit out.

“It isn’t, but it’s expected that the wives meet and socialize.”

“I don’t expect that of you.”

“I know, but if you want your business relationship to last, at some point, it has to go beyond the office. During functions, the wives mingle and entertain themselves while the men talk business.” When he made no comment, she bumped him playfully with her hip. “You have no idea what helpful tidbits spouses will share when they’re with friends.”

When they boarded the elevator, Mo and Johan stood before them and eased to the side to let them pass once they reached the penthouse.

She faced Roth as the elevator doors closed and searched his shadowed face. “I didn’t speak German to cut you out of the conversation. I saw an opportunity to break through formalities for a deeper connection.”

He closed the gap between them, towering over her. “You don’t need any connection, deep or otherwise, with him or any other man.”

She stiffened. “I meant a deeper social connection that you can utilize in future for business and networking.”

“I didn’t marry you so you could connect with or entertain my peers. I married you to have your undivided attention and unlimited access to this.”

He cupped her between her legs, startling her into backing into the wall beside the elevator. He followed and planted a hand on her belly as he leaned down, so his face was inches from hers.

“Your only obligation is to me. To be at my beck and call.” His teeth flashed in the darkness as he bared them in a snarl. “I don’t like you talking to other men, smiling at them, being familiar with them. That’s mine. Everything is mine. They don’t get to make you laugh, smile, even touch your fucking hand unless I say so. Do you understand me?”

His fury beat at her. It was out of proportion with the quick introduction that took place in front of him, but she wasn’t going to point that out. Just like she wasn’t going to explain the repercussions of her refusal to shake a man’s hand in the future. They could discuss that at a later date when he was being rational.

“I understand,” she said calmly.

He grabbed a handful of her jacket and twisted it around his fist as he hissed, “I hate the way men look at you. I wish your face was smeared with my cum twenty-four seven so they know who the fuck you belong to.”

His possessiveness aroused, alarmed, and was slightly offensive. As gently as she could, she said, “You know I’d never cheat on you, right?”

She knew instantly that she fucked up. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood up a second before the hand clutching her clothes went to her throat.

“Do you know what would happen if you tried?”

With him crouched over, the city illuminated her face while his was cast in darkness. She kept her eyes soft, unafraid, even though her heart was tripping in her chest. How the hell had her joining him at the gym turned into this?

“I don’t need to know what you’d do because it’ll never happen. I don’t want anyone else.” She leaned forward and ignored the way he squeezed her throat, so she would keep her distance. “You’re all I want.”

Before her lips could connect, he released her and stepped back. “I need to shower.”

She reached for him. “Roth.”

He sidestepped to avoid her touch. “I have to get to the office. I’m late.”

She could taste his seething fury. It crackled in the air around him. He was trying to cram his anger into the murky depths where he put all unwanted emotions, but she wasn’t going to let him.

As he started down the hallway, she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Punish me.”

He stopped in his tracks. Her throat constricted, even as adrenaline coursed through her veins. She was playing with fire, fucking waving a red flag in front of an experienced, rampaging bull. But her need to provide an outlet to cure his temper outweighed the fact that she could be gored in the process.

“I know you want to,” she whispered.

“I forgave you,” he said in a tone so devoid of emotion, she knew she was on the right track.

“But that doesn’t take away the anger, does it?” She kissed his sweaty shoulder. “How do you want to punish me? On my knees? On all fours?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

His voice was as cold as the temperature outside. The fact that he was trying to shield her from the darker aspects of himself, made her even more determined to unleash his beast. She was his partner, his equal. That meant taking on the good and bad. And this bad… she had a feeling she could turn it into something that would satisfy them both. Although she was enjoying his sweet side, it was his aggression and thin layer of civility that attracted her in the first place. She knew what he was capable of, and was in the mood to live a little dangerously.

 **This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

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