Bonded? Is that like being married?” Tangling her legs with his, Summer King wiggled closer to her Sargosian husband until there was no space separating them. “Sounds like your old ways are very much like the way the humans’ were, back on Earth, hundreds of years ago…and still are, to some extent. Get married, build a life together, start a family.”
"Yeah, in a way. That shawl I gave you? That's a bond shawl. It means you’re my main wife." Roz Taren flashed a quick grin. "So when I take more wives, you get to boss 'em around."
Stillness settled over her for a few seconds as she counted to ten…and then to twenty. Pushing up on her elbow to look down at him, she tried to keep a straight face as if they were merely discussing the weather. Her mind bounced back and forth between the red haze of anger and the green fog of jealousy. Untangling her legs from his, she debated between leaving and punching him. Leave? Punch? Her gaze slid to the door before turning back to him. Her fists were clenched, nails digging into her palms.
Breathe chica, don’t lose it yet. “ More wives?”
Roz looked at her, his expression serious. He had to be joking…surely? His lips quirked, then broke into a full, wide smile. A laugh followed right on its heels. "You should see your face. If I were serious, I'd be a dead man."
“Oh, so you’re joking? I thought jokes were supposed to be funny. So tell me? Do I get to have more husbands to see to my needs…if you’re to take on more wives?” she challenged, while staring him down.
He went still, but the smile was still on his face. "Oh, no, it only works like that for men. Women can only marry once in our culture.”
She was up in a flash, meaning to bolt out of the room, but she changed directions, a split second after gaining her feet. Spinning, she balled her fist and punched him in the stomach as hard as she could. He grunted, but she’d seen Roz and his men in training. For them, the hardest punch she could manage would be little more than a love tap. He lay on his back for a moment, watching her with a quizzical expression.
She sighed. Men, so dumb, whatever the species.
“ That’s for lying to me sweetums. Think I can’t tell when you’re lying? I don’t believe you! What a shit!” She carried on muttering and cursing a blue streak, gesturing wildly with her hands the entire time. “You’ve got some nerve…” She then went on to invent a few new combinations of curse words. “More wives my ass…”
Turning her back on him, she crossed her arms and prayed she hadn’t gone too far.
"Summer? Sweetheart, I was playing. You know you're the only woman for me," Roz said from behind her, his voice concerned.
Biting her lip hard to keep from giving away the fact that she was laughing instead of crying, she shook her head, sending her hair flying around her head and shoulders in denial. Of what though, she didn’t say. She wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily… As it was, her first instinct was to ask if he was okay…to check that she hadn’t really hurt him.
If he thought he was the only one that could play jokes of this sort, then he was wrong…though she would never intentionally hurt him. Not his heart, not ever. Making him sweat was different and completely acceptable. She waited, sensing his approach.
"Summer?"
Dropping her center of gravity lower than normal, she spun and shoved off from her back foot. There wasn’t much distance between them, so she had to put every bit of her weight behind the move. Wrapping her arms around his torso just above his waist, she tackled him. At the same time, she stepped behind one of his legs and pushed to fold it, hoping to knock him off balance…just enough.
He must’ve been surprised, because they ended up on the bed with her sprawled on top of him. Wasting no time, she aimed her fingers at his sides, his armpits, in an all-out assault. A search and destroy mission bent on one purpose—to tickle the heck out of him.
“You want something to laugh about? I’ll give you something to laugh about!” Smiling and giggling, she attacked him with a ruthlessness she’d reserved only for her brothers up to this point.
He lay on his back, trying to bat her hands away until he seemed to notice she wasn't trying to hit him. Leaning on his elbows, he looked at her in confusion. "What are you doing?"
Her giggles and smile faltered as it became clear he wasn’t laughing or squirming to escape her marauding fingers. Not only was he not laughing, he looked baffled by her actions. She stopped trying to tickle him, her hands coming to rest flat against his ribs.
“I’m tickling you…or at least I was trying to.” Holding his gaze, she tried to be ready, in case he was tricking her into dropping her guard. She wouldn’t put it past him to be sneaky that way.