"You can ask me about her if you want." My husband said as soon as my back hit the cold surface of his office desk. He was right in the action, pushing away the files and whatever was on his desk to the ground. He picked up the receiver, dialed a number, and ran his thumb over my bottom lip as he waited for the answer."Do not let anyone through my door, understood?" His eyes remained on my face as he spoke on the phone. "Yeah, you seem to have failed at your job. Consider this as your final warning. If someone even knocks on the door- you're fired."He tossed the phone on the leather couch and hovered over me in record time. I wondered why I was still sprawled on his desk, like a fucking dish, while the lunch box I brought for him was lying on the coffee table."I don't care. And more so, can you stop touching me, for fucks sake?" My heart was bruised and scarred, yet my legs found themselves around his waist anyway as he dragged my body toward the edge of the desk. At that moment, I
I was practically in a murder mode the whole day. My husband didn't just make me his mid-day meal but he had set a wild fire in my chest which wouldn't set off. I tried swimming in the pool water, even ran on the treadmill for longer than any of the other days and also took a cold shower. Nothing helped. Shelly's red fiery mane kept popping in my head repeatedly and every scenario led me to picture her kissing my husband, on the mouth, which was something we never did, except for that one time he kissed me for the photo ops. It burnt and the worst part was I didn't want to show my husband that it did. God, I knew I shouldn't feel like I was feeling. That was the fucking rule set by me in the first place. I had been clear from the start that everything between me and Daniel would be purely physical and nothing emotional. Then why was I getting so damn angry picturing him with another woman. Yeah, I knew why. Because he was my husband. Mine. I pulled my hair up in a bun and secured
Leaving me in a haze of his passionate words, my husband headed into the bathroom. I stayed there, my spine plastered against the door and heart thudding wildly inside my chest. Only when he turned on the shower did I recollect myself. I slipped out of my clothes and into the shirt he dumped on to the floor when he removed it. It still smelled like him and it somehow made me calmer than before. I was brushing my hair when he walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist. His damp hair and defined abs definitely made me drop the brush but I looked away before it did and continued my nightly hair routine. When I set the brush down and turned to face him, he had already pulled on a gray sweatpants which hung low around his hips. Heat crawled over my skin. I brushed the messy tangles of my hair as he moved to one side of our bed, running his hand through his damp hair. "Aren't you hungry?" I placed my brush on the dresser and moved over to my side of the bed. He looked way too tired
Daniel I woke up with a raging hangover and a hungry belly. The latter wasn't just for food but rather it was for the warm body I was pressured up against. How did I end up here? I remembered my failed attempt to keep my distance from my fortune hunting wife and caved in with her in our bed. Every night I ended up seeking her warmth only made me more desperate to break whatever bond was developing between us. I knew the moment I saw her picture in the bride catalog that once I married the girl, I would be doomed and I did marry the girl my father had chosen for me and I was very nearly doomed. I had conjured up enough reasons to stay away from her. Reasons like she wasn't the girl I had wanted to be my wife, she was a gold digger who took the first chance of selling her body for the life of riches, and the biggest and by far the most upholding reasons that I didn't love her. And I was able to keep all those reasons until she wasn't in my arm's reach and I needed...I wanted to touch
The second time I saw Shelly was at one of the parties I got invited to. It was rather abrupt to be randomly required to go out with the wives of my husband's business associates. They were all much older than me by at least five to ten years. I didn't know how to socialize with them. Not in the least. They all looked too uptight and unwelcoming. Marianne had given me a nice makeover, so I looked impeccable in front of the group. It was my husband who had selected the outfit for the occasion and given strict instructions not to mess up my looks. By the time my glam team accomplished their job, I was ready for the red carpet. My hair was twisted into a messy topknot. My make up was light, but they matched it with smoky eyes and wine-red lips. My outfit was a black velvet boat-necked dress with a slit so high on the side that my leg was exposed with every step I took. Strappy black stilettos finished the look, making me look like a runway model. Fuck the simplicity. It was non-existe
I had spent enough hours thinking about the woman who didn't surprise me and walked straight in my direction. None of the ladies were her target and she displayed it with unfiltered grace. She stood two feet from me and gave me her mean, judgmental eyes. And all the pictures I had painted of her and my husband resurfaced in my brain.While I had hardly known about her, I was sure everyone knew about her very well. Maybe that's why all of them studied both of us as we stood facing each other. I had been conscious about my lean curves since the day Marianne told me I needed to be on a proper diet to look half as presentable as the other billionaire wives. I had accepted her remark, consumed it and had been working on a strict diet ever since.But none of it had made me as self conscious as Shelly. She was a few inches taller than me and her body had to be the perfect fit for a Victoria secret model. Beautiful as she was, the twist on her lips surely made her look very evil.Everyone was
Our booth fell silent. Everyone's attention was at the entrance of the club. Several tall men entered the room alongside my husband. With specks of anger marking his otherwise casual expression and the veins lining his forehead and neck, Daniel was surely the standout among the group. He walked straight to our booth, leaving the men behind and if I was to think he was headed toward me, I would be absolutely wrong. My eyes were on my husband, not knowing even as he walked up to another woman, I still felt excited to see him there especially when he had refused to join me tonight. Or maybe, it was the agitation of not knowing who he was there for. Either case, I was a tight ball of conflicting emotions. Shelly rose to her feet, and almost threw her arms around his neck for a hug but my husband caught her arm, stopping her. She turned in his hold with an easy grace and that honey laced carefree smile grin on her face like she had fun humiliating me in front of his friends' wives. But
A hand brushed my cheek and Daniel's face hovered over mine as he helped me step inside the limo. I couldn't see Nathan anywhere. It was just us in the backseat and the driver in the front. I was a little buzzed and I didn't realize how hammered I was until he brushed my hair off my face and made me look at his face. His handsome features were blurry and I surely saw at least three of him. "How much have you had to drink?" He asked, his thumb swiping across my bottom lip. They were still a little sensitive from the kiss we shared. I bit my lip and his eyes stayed on my mouth. "Where's Nathan? You should attend the party. He will take me back home."He moved his hand behind and bumped his fist on the partition twice, his eyes not moving from my face. The limo pulled out of the garage, instantly. "Do not address Nathan as if he is your savior.""He is my bodyguard." I met his eyes as I said that.He put his arm around me and pulled me over his lap, my knees hit either side of his spre