Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 32: The Right Kind Of Wrong

The second we got across the threshold of our hotel room, I launched for my boyfriend like we had been on a fast and therefore prohibited from having our usual sexy time, which quite honestly could not have been further from the truth.

He grunted at me,

"Princess – ," then thudded back heavily as I pretty much spider monkeyed right around his chest and forced him to knock against the door that he had half closed and which then promptly swung all the way shut with a bang.

"Oops."

My giggle was spoken right up close against his bottom lip, that I had captured like a half-starved rabbit between my teeth and although he was trying his best to look disgruntled, he couldn't deny the blissful shiver he drew in, or the hands that steadied my hip bones gently as I rocked onto my tiptoes.

He mumbled back at me,

"My dirty girl."

"Is that why you love me more than you loved her?"

Dean blinked,

"Who?"

He had forgotten? Typical. It probably should have told me what I needed to know, but in my booze soaked state of swirling apprehension I still needed to hear it said out loud and so dropped my head sullenly and briskly waved a hand around.

"Hardwood Kaylee."

I might have spat her name out and then thrown in an eye roll for extra good measure, all of which turned me back into a schoolgirl again and one who had a super jealous crush on somebody, but I just couldn't help the way that I felt. Dean was the best thing that had happened to me ever and I hated another woman strutting around on my turf and reminding us both that there had been others before me with more chutzpah and practice than I was likely to ever have.

My boyfriend raised a brow,

"Huh, this shit really bothers you."

He said it like that sort of surprised him somehow and I frowned in response, looking ever more brooding and shrugged against his body as I laid my head across his abs. Suddenly I needed to be holding him closely, like I was trying to make sure no other girl could prize me off and possibly try to throw a punch in my direction.

My voice was all sulky,

"She said I was dull."

In response to my statement Dean swiftly pulled me into him then nuzzled his face right alongside my ear, kissing the spot between my eye and my hairline as he chuckled a little,

"You're anythin' but that, fuck, I mean you've been kidnapped twice in the nine months I've known you and that's before you even mention some of the other messed up stuff and not forgettin' that you just slapped her bitch ass, so if she thinks that's borin' then who gives a fuck?"

I blinked,

"You're not mad at me?"

"For what?"

"Um, brawling?"

Dean snorted at me and his firm abs jerked as he obviously fought down a burst of amusement that was hovering near the surface but that I couldn't work out. I was still pretty drunk but the guilt hadn't left me and continued to gnaw like a cow chewing cud. I wasn't exactly a violent person but my pride and my jealousy had gotten out of hand and almost created a total disaster, so I plain didn't get why he wasn't more annoyed.