Kaelen POV
I have been faced with a lot of life‑threatening situations and conditions, but none comes close to this one.
Not the Russians. Not Henderson. Not the FBI.
This.
She dared to point a gun at my d**k.
Naomi. My wife. The mother of my children.
I remember the moment like it was branded into my memory. Three nights ago. I came home late. My shoulder ached. My head pounded. I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off my shoes.
She walked in. She did not say a word. She just raised the gun – one of mine, from the study drawer – aimed directly at my crotch.
"Naomi, what are you doing?"
"I am protecting myself."
"From me?"
"From you."
She would rather I lose my pride as a man than for her to perform her duties to me.
No woman had ever wished for me to be dickless; it was only
