Chapter 9

Vincent Sterling, 35 years old..

My perfectly smooth brow crinkles in frustration, and my jaw tenses as I fight to suppress the irritation that boils within me toward my new wife. Ever since I met her, she seems to always know how to push my buttons. Right now, here she is, rolling around in sheets like a weirdo.

My frustration deepens as I watch her seemingly carefree antics. "What the hell are you doing?"

"These sheets are so soft! I want to be wrapped in them like a burrito. What's the thread count on these bad boys?" she asks.

"What is wrong with her?" I mutter, my tone a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

She giggles, seemingly amused at my reaction. "Come on, Hubby, it's so cozy! Join me!"

I clench my jaw. "Don't call me Hubby."

"What am I supposed to call you then? Daddy?" she asks.

"Vincent, just call me Vincent. Now get up. You are acting like a fool," I order.

"No. I think I will call you Daddy since you are old enough to be my Sugar Daddy. Also, I think I will take a nap now,"