Zara’s POV
After a long, very cold shower, I drag my jeans and shirt on, grabbing my gun and tucking it into the holster that’s covered by my top. Checking my reflection to make sure that the bulge under my clothes is not too obvious, I turn toward the bedroom door and exit, making my way back out to the living area to meet up with the asshole that I’m married too.
He knew exactly what he was doing earlier, and I hate that it had the effect he wanted on me. I spent way too much time in the shower obsessing over if he was really just feet away from me, m**********g to the image of me in that dress, the one I intentionally wore because I knew it would drive him insane at the time.
Gerrard is sitting on the couch, one arm slung over the back of the cushions as he idly scrolls his phone. He
