Addict (Hunter #2)(20)

Then he was off in a litany of Italian. When Marcus got going, he could speak at a hundred miles an hour. It was kind of one of his superpowers. I simply nodded and agreed with everything he said and wished I hadn’t opened my damn mouth. Marcus was a possessive man. He’d never tried to hide that from me. He was calm, almost annoyingly calm, ninety-nine percent of the time. That one percent was a doozy, though. As he continued to rage, he got dressed. I felt bad for Donovan. Then I remembered what an * he was and I smiled to myself. After what he’d put me through, he kind of deserved a pissed-off Italian coming for him.

A nice-sounding chime played through the house. Even our doorbell sounded elegant and rich. It was a definite step up from the rented duplexes and single-wide trailers I’d grown up in.

“Naturally, the crowd shows up now.” Marcus finished buttoning his dress shirt and stared down at me. “Get dressed. I am sure this is about you since no one even believes I am here.”

He turned and stalked out of the room.

I sighed and got out of the tub. My stomach grumbled. With the exception of that truly excellent orgasm I’d had, it had been a crappy day. I barely had any breakfast, then my lunch was interrupted. No one had offered me a snack. Now dinner was in distinct jeopardy as well. To top it all off, I had to deal with a pissy vampire. Having never been in a real relationship before—I can’t count Gray as our relationship had been short and apparently under the influence of drugs—I never realized how much another person could affect me. My days could often be decided as good or bad strictly on the influence of Marcus’s mood.

The good news was, most of the time, Marcus was lovingly indulgent. The bad news? When Marcus was in a crappy mood, he had two thousand years of shit he could throw around.

I wrapped a towel around my middle and wondered what I should wear tonight. Jeans and a T-shirt would be comfy, but I had no idea if Brimstone had a dress code. If it was anything at all like Ether, people would dress to the nines. I didn’t give a shit if I stood out at Ether, however, I was trying to blend in at this new place. I had the added complication of hiding the fact that I would be seeing Gray tonight from Marcus. I had been planning to be open and honest with him, but now, as he yelled at whoever had shown up at our door, that seemed like a bad plan.

“Slow down, Vorenus,” a familiar voice said. “I don’t speak Italian.”

I rolled my eyes. The last thing I needed was a visit from Trent Wilcox. He never showed up unless I was in trouble. Being a “face the music now rather than later” type girl, I strode out into the living room ready to know what fresh hell the Boston native was bringing me.

Trent Wilcox was in his late thirties. I suppose if you go for the meathead type, he was an exceptionally attractive man. Like super hot and muscular. His dark-brown hair was cut military style, and his T-shirt could barely contain his ginormous biceps. He looked like a guy who spent way too much time at a gym, but he was a werewolf, so his muscles were au naturel. His clear blue eyes found mine. I saw a look of surprise cross his face. He gave me a perfectly natural for a man once-over.

“Thank god. I don’t know what’s wrong with your boyfriend.” Trent shook his head as he started walking toward me. “I can’t get him to speak English.”

“Then let me make it plain to you, Mr. Wilcox.” Marcus’s hand was suddenly around the big wolf’s throat. He managed to dangle Trent a couple of inches off the ground, which was a feat because Trent was several inches taller than Marcus. “Take your eyes off my mistress. Now.”

“Damn it, Marcus,” Trent gasped. His eyes widened and his feet kicked, trying to reach the floor. I was surprised to say the least. Marcus was typically a very nonviolent-type vampire. He tended to leave that sort of thing to me. “I’m sorry. What am I supposed to do? She’s…”

“Half naked.” Marcus growled as he turned his unnaturally dark eyes to me. I have rarely seen that pure vampire part of Marcus. Sometimes it came out when we made love, but he was always in control. Tonight seemed different. Tonight those pitch-black eyes bore into me and his will rolled across my skin. Persuasion pushed at me. That was all vampire, with none of my indulgent trainer. “I told you to get dressed.”

I knew he was right. I should go and do as he asked, as he’d asked me to in the first place. Still, I stood there. It’s a perversity of my nature that I have a strong aversion to any sort of authority. He was pushing persuasion my way. Oh, he wasn’t attacking me with it, but the threat was there. My wolf didn’t like that much. “Since when do I follow your orders, Marcus?”

“Since you decided to become my mistress, Kelsey. You agreed to belong to me. I do not allow my mistress to expose herself to other men. Your body belongs to me. It is not for his eyes.” He kept Trent dangling.

I wondered if the wolf would start turning blue soon. His neck was muscular and thick. It didn’t look like Marcus could get his whole hand around it so I thought he was pretty safe. Marcus might be pissed at the king, but I couldn’t let him kill the queen’s guard.

His anger fed my own. I shoved back at his will. Despite the sex, my she-wolf was prowling in my gut again. “You possessive freak, I am not going to meekly obey you.”

I’m pretty sure my she-wolf is also an alpha bitch.

“I wish you would, Kelsey.” Trent’s muscles strained. “This really f*cking hurts.”