Binding Rose: A Dark Mafia Romance(49)
I feel bite-size chunks of my pride being ripped out of me as I pull down my panties so that all I have on is the embarrassing sheer teddy. I throw a quick prayer up to Virgen de Guadalupe and beg her to give me the courage I need to see this plan through.
I take a deep breath, leave my room, and walk down the hall towards the bedroom where my husband is holed up. I let out a relieved exhale when I turn his door’s knob and find it unlocked. I step inside the dark room, my heart beating a mile a minute that I’ll get caught, or worse—get thrown out on my ass before I’m able to accomplish my mission.
Even through the blanket of night, the full moon casts enough light that I can see Tiernan’s silhouette lying under the covers on the left side of the bed. I walk to the other side and slide in next to him, letting out another sigh of relief when he doesn’t stir awake.
Although now that I’m lying beside him, him being asleep isn’t exactly part of the plan. I was supposed to seduce him, not just lie here looking up at the ceiling, not knowing what to do next.
Mierda.
What now?
“Your thoughts are as loud as your feet,” Tiernan suddenly says, making my heart flip of its own accord.
“You’re awake,” I croak out.
“Hard not to be with all your racket,” he mumbles, still half asleep as he turns around to face me. “What do you want, Rosa? What was so goddamn important that you felt the need to sneak into my bed in the middle of the night?”
“Teach me,” my response is immediate.
“Come again?” he asks, sounding more alert than he was a second ago.
“I asked you to teach me.”
The room is shrouded in darkness, yet I can still see how his blue eye turns a shade darker than his green one.
“And what lesson do you want to learn tonight?”
My stomach flutters at the sound of his voice going an octave lower.
“What you said in the car. How can a woman have pleasure while on her knees? I want to know.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Very well. Turn on the light.”
“Is that really necessary?” I grip the bedsheet for dear life.
“If I’m going to teach you to suck cock, then I’m going to see you do it.”
God.
Does he always have to be so crude?
And why the hell does his dirty mouth always bring such salacious imagery to my mind?
When I don’t budge, he turns over to his bedside table and switches the light on.
“There. Much better.”
For him, maybe.
Not for me.
When I planned how this was going to go, I envisioned my actions would be concealed by darkness. I could have mustered enough courage to do what had to be done in the shadows. Not out in the open like this.
“Having second thoughts?” he asks smugly, not hiding how my embarrassment amuses him.
When he snatches the covers out of my death grip, my mortification multiplies tenfold with the loud shriek I let out.
“If you were on the fence about your tutoring, you shouldn’t have worn that.” He points at my teddy.
I’m about to fly out of his bed when Tiernan stops me by wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me hostage.
“Let go,” I seethe through gritted teeth.
“Tsk. Tsk.” He shakes his head behind me. “Haven’t you ever watched the Discovery Channel? You can’t taunt a lion by flaunting such a delicious treat in his face and not expect him to take a bite out of it.”
“I said let go. I’ve changed my mind.”
A shudder runs along my spine as Tiernan leans in closer to my ear, his sweet breath on my skin making my insides melt.
“Next time you decide to sneak into my bedroom and slide into my bed, be prepared to get fucked. Otherwise, get out.” He pushes me away with such force, it’s a miracle I don’t fall to the floor. On shaky knees, I get up off the bed and start making my exit. Tiernan doesn’t so much as let out a snicker as he watches me retreat with my tail tucked between my legs.
Virgen.
Am I this much of a coward?
Even when my own happiness is at stake?
My fingers grip the door knob, but my feet refuse to budge.
When I turn around, Tiernan is sprawled on his bed in nothing but boxers, his arms resting behind his head. There is a large Gaelic crest tattooed to his left muscled pec. Other than that, I can’t see any other tattoos on his firm, muscular body. And to my shame, my greedy eyes are taking in each flawless patch of skin just to make sure I don’t miss one hidden away somewhere.
“I thought you were leaving?” he asks dryly, pulling my attention back to his face.
“I changed my mind.”
“I didn’t know you were so fickle. I’ll make sure to add it to your long list of flaws.”
“You’re making a list? I don’t think you’re the most qualified person to do that. You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“It’s a figure of speech. And I know enough.”
“No, you don’t. We’ve hardly spent any quality time together as husband and wife for you to say that.”
“Does the time I left my handprint on your ass count?”
“No, it doesn’t.”