Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
* * *
I let out a laugh so loud and unexpected that my hand slaps over my mouth, my eyes wide as I read the last line again. I can’t believe it. There in white typeface on a black background, my normally serious-faced and technical-speaking husband allowed some of his dry, dark sense of humor to fill in the blank of the questionnaire. It’s a part of him usually reserved only for me and our closest friend. And if someone were to have told me Roman used that naughty wit out in the open for strangers to read, after showing me proof, I would’ve never believed this would be my reaction.
I’m typically quite territorial over the things that have been deemed “reserved for me” when it comes to my husband. So this feeling of pride, of excitement, that he felt comfortable enough to show off a part of himself that normally takes time to come out, right there in our profile, is a little startling. And I find that I love he took this opportunity to spotlight the darker side of him. It means he feels open and like he can be his true self in this community, which makes perfect sense, since we’ve found a group of likeminded people by joining Club Alias. In turn, I realize I feel a little more relaxed about an assignment and prospect that seemed too overwhelming before.
Thinking back over our life together, it’s no secret I am possessive to a fault. I am unreasonably jealous for a woman whose husband is so devoted to her. It’s something I discussed with Dr. Walker during our premarital counseling sessions, practically begging for a solution on how to stop these overpowering, rage-filled waves of total hostility toward anyone who even thought about coming on to my man. But in a shocking turn of events, Roman had cut off that discussion, stating very clearly he had no desire for that particular personality trait of mine to be “fixed.” And if I remember correctly—after all, it’s been a decade since those very first sessions, before Doc even opened Club Alias now that I think about it—that was how we began to open up more to the wise-beyond-his-years therapist about our… alternative relationship.
Yes, now I remember. Roman interrupted the conversation, after I finished asking Dr. Walker if there was any therapy I could participate in that would stop me from being such a jealous psycho, before the man could answer.
“Negative,” my fiancé’s deep voice cut in suddenly, making me hop a little on the leather couch cushion.
My brows furrowed as I looked at him, my eyes narrowing sassily. “What do you mean, negative? I was asking him a question, not you.”
His brow lifted at my tone, but seeing as he only got to boss me around in bed, I blinked at him slowly in an expression that prompted, “Well?”
“Negative, as in you don’t need to change anything about yourself. Nothing in your personality needs to be ‘fixed.’ Especially not that particular trait,” he stated, his eyes moving from me to Dr. Walker.
Doc had taken a moment to assess this situation, and we came to realize this was quite a breakthrough in our relationship as a whole. “The way you say that, Roman, it sounds more meaningful than just a man telling his future wife that he loves her just the way she is. Can you expand on why you’re so adamant about Savannah not seeking help to control an emotion she feels is overwhelming to her?”
My stupidly hot man, with his pitch-black hair, line-free face, and mostly ink-free skin, so young-looking as I think back to his appearance, sitting on Dr. Walker’s couch for maybe only the third or fourth time.
He looked over at me then, a question in those dark eyes. He was asking me permission to speak openly about the dynamic we played with when we made love.
I swallowed thickly, questioning myself, wondering if this was something I wanted exposed to anyone outside of the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. But that’s why we were there, wasn’t it? To make sure all our ducks were in a row, everything out in the open with each other so nothing would be a big surprise after we said our vows to one another? So I gave him a small nod, and he reached over, taking my clenched hand out of my lap, unfolding each of my locked fingers, and then sliding his rough ones between them until they were intwined together.
And then he looked over at our counselor, head held high and shoulders square, and said proudly, “Dr. Walker, I gain an immense amount of pleasure from Savannah being so uncontrollably territorial over me. I’ve witnessed it so many times in so many different situations that I can say without a doubt that it is something she doesn’t mean to happen; it’s almost like a natural instinct that was completely out of character for her until she met me. It makes me feel desired like I’ve never experienced before. It makes me feel like a treasure—no, like a goddamn king. She wants me all to herself. She can’t stand the thought of another woman even looking at me. And sometimes when we make love, it’s almost like she wants to mark me as hers in a way that would ward off anyone who’d try to get near.” He turned to stare into my eyes then and finished with “And I fucking love it more than life itself.”