Stolen Nights With My Cold Husband

Stolen Nights With My Cold Husband

Author: Morgan Cooke

Chapter 7: No Escape

Derek’s eyes darted between me and Nathan, worry creasing his brow. I told him it was just a friend, urging him to go. He lingered, glancing back until I shut the door behind us.

My legs shook as I climbed the stairs. Nathan followed, his steps deliberate—a predator stalking his prey. I fumbled with my keys at the door, every sense on high alert.

"Why did you come?" I tried for indifference, but my voice wavered.

"If I hadn’t, would you have brought him home?" His voice was glacial, every word sharp as glass.

We were nearly divorced—who I saw shouldn’t matter. But the thought of him knowing about the pregnancy sent a jolt of fear and defiance through me.

The lock clicked open. I moved to get him a glass of water—old habits dying hard. But he grabbed me, tilting my chin up, his grip firm but not painful.

"Friend? That’s how you introduce me? We’re not divorced yet." Possessiveness flashed in his eyes—a new, frightening thing.

"We will be soon." I tried to sound dismissive, but my heart hammered against my ribs.

He laughed, low and cold. "Emma, have I been too easy on you? Letting you find someone else behind my back?"

Panic rose. Did he know about the baby? "You—you know everything?" I whispered, voice strangled.

He leaned in, his gaze burning. "I’m your husband. If you want something, you come to me. I can give you what you need."

His kiss was wild, nothing like the careful distance he’d always kept—hungry, reckless, almost angry. I tried to push him away, but he blocked me with his long legs, caging me against the door.

"Nathan, are you crazy? We’re getting divorced," I gasped, breathless.

His voice dropped, raw and possessive. "I should’ve lost my mind a long time ago."

His lips bruised mine, the metallic taste of blood mixing with the scent of his cologne. Then he lifted me, pinning me to the entryway wall—feet dangling, completely trapped.

Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my legs wouldn’t move. I met his eyes, daring him to see how much I’d changed. Nathan’s grip tightened, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re not leaving me, Emma. Not now. Not ever.”

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