Shattered Pieces

Eight

"Baby, I could use your help in here," I call out to Spencer, who is distracted in our room with Grayson. I'm having trouble zipping up the last part of my dress, and I'm already running late for my night out with Kia.

His hand slowly replaces mine over my zipper. "What do you think you're doing?" I catch a glance of his smirk through the mirror as my zipper travels down instead of up.

"Not a chance in hell you're leaving this house in this piece of fabric you're calling a dress." His lips graze my shoulder as the tip of his finger traces down my spine with each teasingly slow motion of the zipper.

"Oh, honey. Can't handle how hot your wife is?" I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, knowing it'll drive him crazy.

He spins me around so that I'm facing him, desire painted all over his face. "Stay here with me." He whispers against my lips.

"No can do, Mr. James." I smile into a quick peck of our lips.

His hold tightens on my waist before lifting me up and gently placing me on our bathroom counter. His knee parts my legs until he has enough room to wiggle between my things. "I could make it worth your while, Mrs. James." His lips caress my neck with each word.

"Spence, our baby—"

"Was already half asleep when I walked in here." He cuts me off, closing the little space I didn't even realize was between us.

"Kia is—"

"Not going to die because you're a few minutes late." His rebuttal ready just as quick as the last one.

"A few minutes?" I arch my brow at him.

"Give or take." He flashes me that smile of his that melts my world before crashing his lips onto mine.

Spencer won this game the moment his hand replaced mine on the zipper, and he knows it. I'll buy an extra round for Kia and me to make up for my tardiness, but right now, all of my focus is on my husband.

Thirty minutes later, my dress is finally fully zipped up, and I'm heading out of the door. Spencer all but demanded to drive me, but I shot that idea down, and I'm certain it was the right decision as I slide into my Uber. First, I'm not certain I would've actually made it to the club if my husband had driven me. Second, if by some miracle I did actually make it there, I'm 100% positive he wouldn't have actually left. This is my first night to escape and have a good time since before Grayson was born. No way I'm letting Spencer take this from me.

A short drive later, we pull up in front of the address Kia sent me. There's a line out the door which makes me wonder just how crowded this place is going to be and just how long we'll be stuck standing outside.

My phone dings right on cue as my heels touch the ground.

Trouble 🖤: Don't get too drunk. I want you to think of me finishing what we started. Imagine how good I'll make you feel when I rip that awful excuse for a dress off of you later tonight, only if you're sober enough to enjoy it.

My cheeks heat, and I'm glad it's already starting to get dark out, or people might notice me turning the same color as my dress. He's taunting me. The entire point of girls' night is to get drunk off of your ass. Of course, he wouldn't know that. He turned me into a wife at the ideal age of 19. I, without a doubt, missed all of the wild nights out.

"Liv!" Kia calls out, standing near the bouncer. Thank the Lord, because the last thing I wanted to do was wait in this line. I make my way toward her, and she practically yanks me inside. Looks like I'm going to have some catching up to do. She drags me through the crowded convulsing bodies as I take everything in. Everyone around us appears to lose themselves in the bass of the music. An overwhelmingly free vibe surrounds us.