by Kate Stewart
Deciding today probably wasn’t the best day to ask Alex for a divorce, I set out to sell houses. I was on top of the world and had nothing but huge smiles for complete strangers. I looked like a lunatic, but a happy one. When I got home later that night, I found Alex face down on the floor, burning with fever. I rushed him to the ER and stayed with him as they got his fever under control. I looked at my phone hours later and saw I had two missed texts from Rhys.
RHYS: It’s 5 o’clock and all I can think about is your Jedi jaw movements this morning. Please come now for a repeat performance. My cock will thank you.
RHYS: Maybe it wasn’t as good for you as it was for me?
I looked at the clock. It was one a.m. Shit. Somehow Alex had found a way to taint the only good thing that had happened to me. I texted him back.
VIOLET: So sorry. Crazy shit. I’ll explain later. And yes, it was incredible. I will take your cock up on that offer.
I got no response and tucked my phone back into my purse.
“I love you, Violet.” I looked to see Alex studying me from the hospital bed. He looked pitiful and I almost felt sorry for him.
“Yeah, love you, too, honey.” I rolled my eyes away from him and sat up in my chair.
“Where is your wedding ring?” he asked, studying my empty finger.
“Wow, a sick and desperate man,” I said, shaking my head.
The doctor came in and discharged Alex with a long list of prescriptions. Alex had the plague, as far as he was concerned, and begged me to stay with him. I spent the next day at home nursing his health. The sooner he got better, the sooner I could ask for a divorce.
Rhys had extended his invitation again and I had turned him down again. I hated when I had to text my reply. On day three, his text came and my heart sank.
RHYS: You aren’t running away, are you? You can talk to me.
VIOLET: No, God, please don’t think that, Rhys. I promise I will explain. I wish I were with you.
I got no response. It took Alex five days to get up and moving, and I could feel Rhys slipping away. I shouldn’t have lied to him. And I sure as hell shouldn’t be ruining my fucking chances with him to nurse Alex back to health. I went to check on Alex after waking on the couch and found him missing. I looked at the bedside clock, 10:59 p.m.
I stood against the side of his office door, the way I always did when I eavesdropped. Listening to his conversation, I assumed it was Sandra he was speaking to. I had met her twice at office parties and other occasions for the firm. Alex was the head of commercial accounts at his advertising firm and had recently received an award for his work on a shoe campaign. He hadn’t bothered inviting me, stating it was an afternoon ceremony and he didn’t want me to have to miss work. I found out later through our credit card statement the fucking bastard had booked a suite that day. I listened to him speak to her the way he used to talk to me.
“You are so fucking perfect. I don’t want to hide it anymore. I love you, Kris.”
I choked on a sob. I didn’t care how much I hated him, how much I was ready for my marriage to be over. It fucking hurt to hear him profess his love to another woman. Especially when I had been the woman who had been nursing him back to health. Clutching my chest, I turned my body, my forehead to the wall as my tears of rage fell silently. I wouldn’t wait for Christmas. I wouldn’t wait for tomorrow. As soon as he finished his conversation, we would have ours.
“I want to fuck you so bad. I need you right now.” Alex’s voice sounded desperate, needy.
I felt a hand clamp over my mouth and started to scream out when I heard his voice.
“It’s me. Don’t scream.”
I tried to turn to face him, tears still damp on my face. Rhys was here, in my house, and my husband was on the other side of the door. What the hell was he doing here? He held my back to his chest as I stood still, facing the wall, completely wide-eyed and terrified we would be discovered at any moment. He stroked the wetness of my face, his voice coming out in a whisper.
“You cry tears for a man begging for someone else’s pussy.”
I shook my head no, wanting to tell him it wasn’t true, to tell him it stung a little. I hated Alex. Alex, who was just on the other side of the door! I tried to break free, but he kept his grip on my hips.
“He doesn’t want you anymore, Violet. He doesn’t want this.”
He slid his hand up my thigh, only partially covered by my baby doll nightie, straight up to my sex. Fear set in as I listened to my husband’s voice as he proclaimed his love to another woman. The slip of his hand beneath my underwear and the flick of his finger hard on my clit woke up the woman who didn’t give a fuck about Alex, didn’t give a fuck about inhibitions, and didn’t give a damn if Alex came out and saw her impaled on another man’s dick. Though he wouldn’t let me turn to face him, I gave him permission by sliding my panties down as far as I could before it hit the hand resting on my hip, the other stroking me with his fingers. Alex’s voice was a blur as a wealth of wet came pouring out of me. His lips brushed my neck and his voice took me into a whole new world with his next words.
“He may not want you anymore, but I wanted you. I wanted this,” he said, pressing hard against my clit. I had to stifle a moan as he slid to the floor, taking my panties down. He pulled my ass out and spread my legs.
“He doesn’t want it anymore because you were never wet for him the way you are for me. You were never his. You never wanted him the way you want me.”
He swiped his tongue from the bottom of my folds to the top, completely knocking the breath out of me. Two fingers slipped into my slick center as his tongue circled my clit hard. He did this with no mercy as my body twitched with anticipation. I wanted to see his face, take in his beautiful gray depths. All I could do was give him a low moan as his fingers glided in and out. A third entered my ass and I almost collapsed to the floor. He was doing this slowly, but the tension was building and my core began to hum. His tongue joined his fingers and I could barely stand when he’d had his fill, dragging the flat part of his tongue back to my clit. I stood there getting my pussy eaten in a dark hall, not hearing anything but the gasps caught in my throat. I was close to coming and I could hear Alex’s call coming to a close. Rhys paused behind me.
“You want me to stop? I could leave right now, or he could walk out and see me devouring your sweet, pretty pussy.” He worked his fingers, stroking the nerves that set me off, my body convulsing slightly. “Violet, what do you want to happen?”
“Don’t stop,” I said on a whisper, still on the edge as his digits slowly fucked me. Seconds later, I felt his tongue resume the circles it was making on my clit. With a few more strokes of his tongue, he shoved his finger fully in my ass and I came, trembling from head to toe, scratching at the wall, rubbing my forehead back and forth over the textured surface as I fell apart, hot liquid sliding out of me as he continued his strokes, pulling my wetness with him. When the last shudder left me, he stood and whispered in my ear.
“I wanted you. I wanted you so much. You fucking lied to me. You made a fool out of me. I’ll never let you make a fool of me again.”
Heavy tears fell down my face as he turned my head to the side to claim my mouth in a long, slow, sensual kiss. His rock-hard chest behind me rose with his breath, his cock heavy, stiff and pulsing against my back. I tasted the tanginess of my sex and inhaled the soothing scent of him, a mix of soap and spice. And then he was gone, just a shadow moving down the hall and out the door. I shook my head no violently, still completely floored by what had just happened. I wanted to run after him, to tell him how sorry I was, but he was right. My white lie had reared its ugly head. I had waited too long and it looked like I was fucking mourning Alex outside his office door. There was no way he would believe me. I wouldn’t believe me. I had just lost Rhys.
I heard Alex end his call with another “I love you” and the rest of the woman who had any feeling for him died in that moment. I slid my panties back up and walked to the
kitchen to get a glass of wine. I was dripping wet from my orgasm and felt my panties soaking as I stood uncorking a new bottle. The evidence that Rhys had just been here fucking me with his mouth wasn’t something I wanted to rid myself of...not right away, anyway. I sighed as I sipped my wine. How in the hell did he know where I lived? How insane was he to just stroll into my house and claim me while my husband was here? I shook my head at the thought of Alex actually walking out and seeing Rhys stroking me with his tongue. I would have been furious to miss that orgasm. I laughed out loud at the thought, at the insanity of it all, my heart crumbling in my chest.
How could Rhys not see me as anything but pathetic, standing outside a door crying as my husband confessed his love to another woman? This whole situation went from clean lines to fucked up in minutes.
Alex walked in moments later and gave me a smile as he eyed my wine with nothing but assumption behind his stare. Back from the dead and just as dreadful as ever.
“I’m not an alcoholic, asshole. You would know that if you lived here.”
“Vi, what the hell did I do to deserve that?” he challenged, his arms crossed.
“I’ve been fucked.” I said, both figuratively and literally I almost added, though I decided to keep this civil.
“Pardon?” Alex asked, slightly shocked at my vulgarity. I was hardly ever this candid with him. I took a sip of wine, looking forward to this. I thought before, in my denial, that I was being strong. I thought I was just too uninterested to fight for my freedom when the truth was, I wasn’t strong enough…until now.
“You fucked me out of a life you promised me. Companionship, a home, not just a house and kids. I won’t even go there. The truth is that I don’t love you anymore at all…either.”
He spoke up to protest, but his words died on his lips as my distant stare became a glare.
“Don’t fucking do it. Not tonight, Alex. I don’t love you, you don’t love me. Let’s get a divorce. I want the house and I want you out of it tonight. I could get you on adultery but I’m afraid now I’m guilty, too.”
He stood, mouth gaping as I gave him a little more. “Yeah, Alex, what did you expect? I’m not an emotionless robot. Let’s make this civil for the long run, but for now I just want to say you’re a total fucking disappointment. You shouldn’t have asked me to be your wife if you had no intention of being a husband. I wasted years of my life on you and I can’t get them back. That leaves me a little pissed off.”
“You don’t mean any of this. You’re just drunk.” I poured my wine out and set the glass next to the counter.
“Alex, I don’t know why you want to keep me captive. It’s fucking cruel, honestly, and I have no more patience for it. Get out, tonight, and don’t come back. Go to Kris, except I thought it was Sandra. Either way, leave now.” His eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Oh, please...Do you really think I’m that stupid? I wanted this relationship and I cared, so I know all about you. Now I just want you fucking gone, a memory.”
He turned to walk away and I watched him go, kicking him as he left with my next words. “I will get everything I am entitled to and I won’t take any more than that. Don’t make this dirty. I can bury you.”
He paused at my words, and when I was done, he walked away. I wrapped a blanket around myself and went to the porch. An hour later, he was gone, my marriage was over, and for the first time in years, I was free.
I quickly texted Rhys.
VIOLET: Please come back. He’s gone. Please, Rhys, don’t leave things like this. Please talk to me.
No reply brought a pain to my chest that blinded me with tears. I had definitely lost him.
Two weeks and not a fucking word, I was past the point of crazy. I stood frozen outside the bar that now had a closed sign in front of it. I really had to get a grip. I had signed up for an exhibition, not a love affair. That’s what I got, a taste of everything and the love affair. I was desperate to stare into those gray eyes, strung out on a man who obviously didn’t mean what he said. I had texted him for days with no reply. I didn’t show up to his house. It seemed too desperate, and if he wouldn’t respond to my texts, then he damn sure wouldn’t answer the door. Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a mistress. Maybe I was a one-man woman.
No, fuck that. I was made for Rhys and him alone. He knew it and I did, too. I know he felt what I felt and I know I would be just as finished with him as he was with me had the circumstances been switched. This is what happens when you fucking lie. This is why you’re getting a divorce.
Lies, deception, no matter how harmless you think they are or whom it would protect, someone always gets hurt.
Okay, back to square one. I had everything I truly wanted, and had lost it. I was in between love and lust and couldn’t discern it because I was too busy mourning it to dissect it further. I wanted him. I couldn’t have him, and that’s what bothered me most.
He didn’t even give you a chance to explain.
Just as the thought popped into my head, the message came.
RHYS: The Barracks. One hour. RED.
I couldn’t help the smile that tugged the corners of my lips.
One hour later...
My elation from his sudden invitation was short lived by the three-letter word that followed it.
RED.
I knew he was angry. I knew I was about to pay for my lie. I knew I had hurt him and I had no idea what I was about to walk into. What I was sure of was that he wouldn’t physically hurt me.
RED.
I had so many things I wanted to say, an apology to make first and foremost. I also wanted to ask him why the club was closed. Surely, I had nothing to do with it. No, he might have been a little hurt by my actions, but something told me this was much bigger than me. And who the hell was I to think it could have anything to do with me? We’d had one day to explore our relationship further. Even then it was filled with light conversation and nothing heavy. Well, except for the sex. I still didn’t know much about him, but in the time that I had known him, I knew he was a man I could fall for. And I had ruined it.
I’d been too slow in leaving my worthless husband, who was now completely out of my life, divorce pending. I had filed the day after I kicked him out. All I had to do was tell Rhys the truth. I just didn’t want to lose him. I beat myself mentally until I arrived at The Barracks. Putting my car in park, I surveyed the building, instantly on edge.
What a shit hole.
If the meeting place was any indication of the feelings he now harbored for me, I was in deep shit.
RED.
The beat down shack, known as The Barracks, was located on the outskirts of Savannah. It looked to be in shambles, resembling a hideout for crack heads, on the verge of being condemned.
I can’t go in there!
I took deep breaths, on the brink of a panic attack. What the hell was Rhys doing here? This was not his style. I was tempted to text him and call it off. Walking quickly from my car, I scanned the lot to make sure I got in safely.
Stepping into the dark bar, I saw him immediately. He was standing at the far end, and as soon as the door closed behind me, his eyes were on mine. They were as cold as ice. Sweat covered me instantly, and I could feel heads turning my direction but couldn’t tear my eyes away from Rhys. There was an electrical shift in the air then a crackle, and it didn’t have the kind of pull that had me gravitating toward him. This was the kind that made my steps careful. I was just a few feet away from him when he turned and walked around the corner then down a flight of stairs. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I followed quietly. At the foot of the stairs, he continued walking down a dark hall with a set of rooms to the right and left. I stood behind him, silent, as he reached into his pocket. When he turned the key and walked through the door, I hesitated. He inspected the room as I quickly surveyed it. There was a large iron chandelier with cheap yellow bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Large black silk ribbons were draped from the center of it. I hadn’t noticed before that R
hys had been carrying a small black bag, which he dropped to the floor with a thud, making me jump, his back to me. He was waiting.
It was then that I understood exactly what RED meant. My Rhys was gone, and I was about to meet the version of the man that took his place.
I took a tentative step into the room and closed the door.
“Rhys, I just wanted to say I—”
He turned suddenly, taking long strides toward me, and gripped my neck with one hand, nailing me to the door. I gasped in surprise; his grip was tight.
“Don’t ever call me by my name again. You will address me as sir, and I don’t want to hear a fucking word come out of your mouth. Sir or stop, that’s all you get, Mrs. Harvell.”
OH FUCK. OH FUCK. OH FUCK.
My limbs were shaking at the power in his voice and the weight of his words. His grip was tight, but he wasn’t cutting off circulation. He didn’t want to hurt me, and I knew that. I trusted him, though the look in his eyes was deadly. He loosened his tie, still holding my neck, keeping me pinned to the door.
He watched my chest rise and fall with interest. Using his spare hand, he pulled my sweater up and pulled down my tank top along with my bra underneath so that the material supported my breasts, leaving them exposed and clustered. Trailing his hand down my stomach, he unbuttoned my jeans and shoved it inside my pants as his grip tightened on my throat. I heard the sound of my arousal as he plunged his fingers inside. I was dripping. He stroked me roughly as he squeezed my neck. I screamed out when he drew two fingers up to my clit and pinched it. To my whine, he smirked. I had to keep cool; apparently, my pain fueled him. I wondered if my moans would do the same.
Rhys was one beautifully pissed off man.
