Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(78)

Then, abruptly, I’m angry.

“Let me get this straight. You were going to marry Lili with no expectation of consummating the marriage, but you demanded our marriage include sex and then made me propose to you?”

He makes a face as if I’m being silly, then brushes me off with, “Let’s talk about Aldo. Why don’t you trust him?”

I reply with a pointed stare. “Because he’s moody, arrogant, and incomprehensible.”

“Ah. Then we’ll get along just fine.”

Kieran tries to stifle a laugh by coughing.

Positioning me more comfortably between his legs, Quinn says, “So where should I take you shopping first?”

“The Neptune Society.”

“What’s that?”

My smile is acidic. “A cremation company. Did you know they’ll pick up a dead body from anywhere in the world?

“You’re being funny again.”

“Yes, but you often mistake threats for humor, so there’s really no telling.”

Dismissing that, he changes the subject. “Speaking of sex—”

“We were talking about where to go shopping!”

“—what kind of birth control are you using?”

Blindsided by that, I stare at him blankly.

He stares back at me with a patient, curious look, waiting for my answer.

My answer which will make not one damn ounce of sense, so I take a page from his playbook and change the subject. “Why do you think Alessandro was so interested in what happened at the house last week? That was strange, wasn’t it?”

“Aye. What’s even stranger is why you’re trying to get out of answering my question about birth control.”

“Rewind to the part in the conversation where you said you’d have an answer for me, but might not admit it, and we’ll go from there.”

He furrows his brows, gazing at me with growing concern, then murmurs, “Oh.”

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’?”

He glances out the window and gives me a squeeze, saying softly, “It’s all right. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I can tell you’re formulating some kind of bizarre and utterly incorrect hypothesis in that lump of coal you call a brain, Quinn. Stop thinking so hard. It doesn’t suit you.”

He glances back at me, his look wary. “So there’s not a big reason you don’t want to tell me?”

I sigh. The man is hopeless. “Just tell me what the big reason is that you’ve manufactured, and I’ll tell you if it’s right.”

Hesitating, he licks his lips. “Are you…?”

I lift my brows. “Breathless with anticipation? Yes. Spit it out before I faint.”

He sends a furtive glance to my lap, then looks at my face again. When he winces, I know what he’s thinking.

“No, I’m not infertile.”

His pause is so loud, I need earplugs. “Did you have your tubes tied?”

“No.”

“So everything is in good working order. Down there.”

I say drily, “I’ll have my gynecologist send you the records, Doctor. You can pore over them yourself.”

Looking relieved and also a little sheepish, he admits, “I just didn’t know if you…if Enzo did something…fuck.” He looks out the window again, his cheeks ruddy.

Horrified to realize his meaning, I say softly, “Oh God, Quinn, no. Nothing like that. I was on the pill the whole time I was married.”

He exhales, nodding. “Okay. Sorry, I’m just...” He stops short, then looks me in the eye. “So you’re saying you’re still on the pill?”

I feel heat creeping up my neck, but there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

His gaze turns intense. “Then what kind of birth control are you on, woman?”

Looking at the roof of the car, I crinkle my nose and say, “Um…”

With the speed of two fingers snapping, he devolves from an adult human male with a fully functioning frontal lobe to a cave-dwelling primate composed of ninety-nine percent penis.

A growl rises from deep in his throat. His arms tighten around me. His intensity level ratchets up a few thousand notches, and his eyes turn black. His energy crackling hot, he stares at me as if I’m about to be devoured.

In a guttural voice that raises all the hairs on the back of my neck, he says, “You’re not using anything.”

I nervously lick my lips. “Don’t go all George of the Jungle on me. I simply didn’t know I’d be needing anything because I didn’t know I’d be getting married.”

His savage grin is reminiscent of how an animal bares its teeth. His eyes gleam with a disturbing light. And his erection is now the fourth passenger in the car, quickly sucking out all the oxygen.

“You never mentioned that, viper. You let me fuck you and—”

“Keep your voice down!”

“—begged for me to come inside you. Begged me. And the whole time, you weren’t on birth control.” He bites my throat, then says hotly into my ear, “What does that mean?”

Shivering, I whisper, “That I have brain damage and should be taken to see a specialist immediately.”