by J. C. Grant
Glancing over, I saw Tara on my love seat, half-naked, obviously feeling much like me as she licked across a stripper's chest, pulling his dick out.
Ken doll trailed his lips along my jaw at the same time I felt something soft and warm on my arm, goosebumps raced along my skin as the heavenly sensation moved up to my neck.
“Oh no fucking way. Get the fuck off my wife!” David's voice boomed over the music.
Suddenly, I was alone.
No hands on me, no thighs framing mine.
Then David was in front of me, his face was rigid with fury.
“What the fuck, Austin?” David's voice thundered.
“No, come here,” I implored grabbing his hand. “Feel them. They feel so good.”
His expression shifted, his eyebrows pulled together, his nostrils flared. He looked like a pissed-off bull. A sexy pissed-off bull in his white V-neck tee, faded, worn jeans and his black boots. The way he wore them... It should be illegal.
He gripped my shoulders, staring into my eyes, his body heat and smell surrounding me.
I was already flooded with love and lust, but feeling David, smelling him, sent it to new heights. My core tightened so violently my thighs clenched together.
Taking in my response, he demanded quietly, “What did you take?”
“Nothing,” I swore as my hands ran over his hard chest, playing with his nipples through the fabric. “You feel even better than them,” I breathed. “And you smell so good... I want to fuck your smell.”
“What did you give her?” He looked at one of the strippers.
“Nothing. Nothing, they were like this when we showed up.” Two of them spoke over each other, clearly frightened by David's tone and the pure rage pouring off him.
His rage didn't bother me, I knew if I could get just a little of that anger focused on my pussy, I'd be in Heaven.
“Get the fuck out,” he growled at them.
He sat me on the couch and maneuvered me until I was laying down, then started in on the other girls. I couldn't pay attention to anything he said, my entire being was focused between my legs.
“David, I need to be fucked,” I begged, pressing my thighs together, my hips squirming, trying to get friction.
When David didn't acknowledge me, my eyes darted away from his broad back to the last remaining stripper, my blond, he was struggling to get his pants on by the end of the couch. Reaching out, I ran my hand over his arm, his skin felt so good against mine. “Can you finger fuck me? Please? Just a little? I need to come.”
“Get the fuck away from her,” David warned darkly.
*****
I woke in the middle of the night, the distant lights of Sunset in front of me. I was in our house, in our bed and I was crazy thirsty.
“Drink some water.” David's sleep rough voice echoed in the dark room.
Propping up on an elbow, I grabbed the bottle off the nightstand and eagerly obeyed.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asked after a moment. Even angry, his voice felt like a warm blanket wrapping around me.
“Yes,” I rasped thickly.
Boy did I remember, and all his possible reactions to tonight's events raced through my mind. Had last night pushed him too far? Was he going to start moving me back into my house? Were we getting divorced?
“You remember me fucking you last night?” His gruff voice demanded from behind me.
I didn't know where this was going, but I definitely remembered that. It was like a slow motion hazy dream. It didn't feel real.
It was awesome.
“Yeah, all three times.”
“Good.” His tone was a threat, condescension and seduction. The way he said it anything could have come next:
Good...
...hope you're ready for another round
...now you'll have a reminder of what you lost
...divorce papers are being messengered over
But his voice turned hard when he said, “Stay away from Kelsey.”
I knew instantly she was the reason I had been in love with the strippers, why I was willing to let two of them rub all over me like dogs in heat, why I asked one to finger fuck me in front of David. My stomach sank with the memory.
Divorce was a very real option.
I cleared my throat and finally turned. He was on his side of the bed. Even in the darkness I could tell he was watching me. “What happened?”
“She put liquid Molly on the cake. And she paid two of the strippers to team you, so she could record it.”
Fear struck me, icy cold fingers squeezing my heart. “What?” I barely managed to breath out.
“I deleted it from her phone, but she sent it to someone before I realized what she was doing. I already told Elaine, she's working on it.” His tone shifted, reassuring and soothing, “Don't worry, I'll buy it. Have a feeling that's what she intended. I'm feeling really good about being a possessive, jealous, asshole right now. When you were still at your house twenty minutes after we talked, I left the restaurant—walked out on my manger to come get you.”
“I'm so sorry. I—”
“You don't have anything to be sorry for. It's my job to take care of you. I should've warned you about this type of shit.” He paused. “That Kelsey chick fucked you all over. It wasn't just you in that video.”
Oh God.
Tara was five episodes into filming a TV series—a family show on a major network. A video release of the things she was doing tonight would get her fired.
“I'm such an idiot.”
“That bitch had pure MDMA on her. She planned this out. You're a target for this stuff now. The other girls don't even like her. You can't be nice about who's around you. And I told Tara the same thing.”
Tears welled in my eyes, I felt like a moron.
“It wore off on Tara first, I'm guessing she ate the least.”
She did by far, and I ate too much because I was feeling sorry for myself because David did go out on a Saturday night without me and it was very possible he could have been with someone else. In that moment I knew Kelsey saying that was part of her plan too.
His energy shifted. His true feelings about tonight finally coming through.
“Austin, I find you like that again... Ever see you give someone else your fuck-me look, drugged or not...” His warning trailed off, rage rolling off him.
I swallowed as goosebumps raced across my flesh. He didn't need to finish his statement. He'd shown more restraint tonight than I thought he possessed. I knew if there was a repeat incident, any man involved wouldn't be walking away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Monday morning, David woke me with that guttural rasp washing over my senses, rousing my body a few seconds before my brain.
My eyes cracked open as he placed the tray on the bed.
“David,” I sighed my complaint at the too-similar-to-oatmeal food as I sat up, giving him a side-eyed glare. “You don't love me,” I sulked.
“You have no idea how much I fucking love you,” he muttered under his breath as he turned on the TV.
I didn't know what he was referring to—we hadn't heard anything about the video yet—and it seemed oddly intense first thing in the morning.
David spent Sunday morning taking care of me, which was unnecessary—I was just dehydrated and humiliated. His reaction to the sex toys had been far worse, but I also knew that reaction had more to do with me shutting down and rejecting him. Still, I was surprised and grateful he wasn't mad at me for what he'd witnessed, he seemed more concerned with how much MDMA I may have consumed. He was sweet and gentle with me all day, snugglefucking, getting takeout and playing with Chance in between. It seemed the incident helped our relationship significantly. And his reaction soothed my chaotic emotions.
“Eat,” he encouraged.
I reluctantly tried it and was pleasantly surprised. It tasted like a blueberry pancake and it wasn't squishy.
“I can eat this.”
“Yeah? It's goo
d?” His voice was hopeful, reminding me of an eager child.
It was adorable.
I nodded, unwilling to give him verbal confirmation.
He pulled our phones out of his pocket, handing mine to me, the screen showed one hundred and twenty-three calls and forty-one missed texts.
Ugh.
I hoped they were all from Dawn and Zach so we wouldn't have to respond.
“There's a text from your mom. Did you text her?” His deep voice was still rough from sleep, doing crazy things to my body. Paired with those lounge pants hanging off his hips…
Focus.
“Yeah, about the Dawn and Zach stuff.” I searched the texts looking for the one from her.
Mom: It's to be expected that a
man in his position had an
arrangement. And you must
know there are likely several
women who want to be in your
position, with him. Don't hold
him responsible for his
past relationships. He can't
hold you responsible for
Zach's behavior. Is he treating
you differently because of this?
7:15 PM Received Saturday
Shit.
He wasn't treating me bad, maybe more possessive, but he wasn't giving me a hard time about it. And I knew he wasn't dealing with it well, but even still, he hadn't taken it out on me. If anything, he was trying harder, catering to my every need. I punished him for someone else's actions entirely.
Well... mostly. He still tried to keep it from me.
Curiosity got the better of me and I checked the most recent text from Zach.
Zach: I need to see you. Just tell me a
place. I'll meet you there. I
know he won't let you talk to me.
I went by his house, and he had a
bodyguard out front. Your
neighbor said you were
uncomfortable with him. I'm
sorry I pushed you into this. I
understand you're tired of waiting
for me. You don't have to anymore.
We can be together now.
2:06 AM
“Is this the kind of thing he sends all the time?” My voice came out small.
“Which one?” he asked distractedly.
“The one from two this morning.”
“Uh...” He scrolled through his texts finding it. “Yeah. Basically.” He looked at me confused. “He came by when we had a bodyguard out front?”
“Fergus?” I suggested.
I watched his face as he considered it.
“Text him back and ask.”
I did a double take. I couldn't tell if he was joking.
“We agreed it's best not respond to them,” I reminded him.
“Well, I wanna know what the fuck he's talking about. Or if he's trying to make you think you're under lock and key.” His voice was hard, demanding.
I hadn't considered that.
I hesitated.
“I'm tired of this. I'm ready to confront him.” His voice was eerily calm, but the underlying threat was too obvious to miss.
“Can you wait until after the articles come out?”
He grumbled a noncommittal response, watching me text Zach.
Austin: When did you go by his house?
8:29 AM
“We'll see what he says.” I focused on my food.
Ten minutes later, David grabbed my phone.
“He hasn't responded? What the fuck?” He sounded offended. “He texts and calls constantly. Then you finally respond, and nothing?”
“He's probably asleep,” I laughed.
His expression turned solemn as he studied me.
“He texted at two in the morning, babe. I assume he's asleep,” I clarified.
“Does he normally sleep late?” he probed none too stealthily.
“I don't know. Never spent the night with him. But we never met for breakfast before nine a.m.”
“You met him for breakfast?”
“Yeah. At Norm's or Astro's or Aroma.”
“Those are spread out.”
“Astro's was close to me. Aroma was close to him. And Norm's is in West Hollywood; if he was out all night, it was closest to him.”
“What a fucking asshole,” he muttered, sounding genuinely pissed on my behalf. “Stayed out all night, then asked you to drive thirty minutes to meet him for breakfast? I can't believe you fucking did it.”
“My schedule was hectic at the time. And I loved it, all the chaos. I loved having somewhere to go, somewhere to be all the time. It worked for me.”
“Is that what you like? Are you bored with our schedules?” he asked sincerely.
“No. I'm not bored. All the clubs. Parties. Events. It all lost its appeal.”
“What happened?” he asked knowingly.
“Nothing,” I said automatically. Then I confessed, “I was stuck for three hours with Zach and six strangers on the way to Long Beach. And they were doing coke the whole time. Like every twenty minutes. I was afraid I was going to be stuck in a limo on the four-oh-five with a dead body.”
He made a noise of understanding.
“That's when reality set in and it stopped being fun. It opened my eyes to him. Obviously, not enough that I noticed he was cheating on me. But I noticed he was using every day.”
“You didn't know he was cheating on you?” His voice was full of disbelief.
“No,” I admitted sheepishly. “I was too self-absorbed.”
“Did he break your heart?” His voice was too conversational, letting me know his questions were anything but.
“No,” I laughed. “Humiliated me, yes.”
“So why didn't you have sex after him?”
“Because I'm picky. And I was tired of pretending to be someone I'm not,” I answered between bites.
“So you weren't in love with him?” he pushed.
“How can you be in love with someone who parties all night, then asks you to drive thirty minutes to meet him for breakfast?” I tossed back at him. “Or asks you to go out on a date two hours before.”
“Fuck,” he winced. “I kinda pulled that.”
“No, you didn't.”
“I should've made a real date with you. Asked you out for Friday on Wednesday or something.”
“You did. You asked me out for Friday the day we met.”
“That's right. You said no. Then you got me all fucked up with that Mr. Impressive shit.”
I laughed, leaning against him, kissing the swell of his shoulder.
Minutes later, I got that return text from Zach.
It was the day of the snake incident.
Even getting the information he wanted, David still seemed off.
*****
David
Knowing Zach had come by the house made me uneasy. Really fucking uneasy. I snagged her coffee off the tray, drinking it to cover my discomfort.
She could've been here alone.
Her noise of protest broke me from my thoughts as I drained the cup.
“I'll get you a cup to-go. Start getting ready for the gym,” I said as I stood, picking up the tray and headed for the kitchen.
I hadn't intended to drink it all. I was antsy enough without extra caffeine. I put everything away and made her a coffee-to-go.
My previous plan needed adjusting. I made arrangements for Fergus to be with her when she was out, if I couldn't be. But my intention was to keep her with me or at home. After her little incident the other night and Zach coming by the house, leaving her home alone didn't feel safe. And I wasn't about to risk it.
She was in the middle of her morning ritual when I returned to the bedroom. I joined her, going through mine for the second time just to steal a few moments with her. I would never give this up, never give her up. Regardless of what I had to do, I would take care of my girl.
Fuck, I didn't schedule painters.
This shit with Zach and Dawn was
distracting me. She wanted a black office, she would get one. I was going to make sure it was completely ready by the time the desk arrived Friday. I was going to make sure she was so fucking happy she wouldn't ever consider leaving me for Zach Stone or anyone else.
Not that I'll ever let her.
“Did you get me another coffee?” she asked, breaking me out of my obsessive thoughts. I'd been staring at her in the mirror and she was looking back now.
“Of course. It's in the kitchen,” I said hoarsely.
“I love you.” She pressed her full lips to my back, peppering kisses as she spoke. “You. Are. The. Best. Husband. Ever.” I watched her in the mirror as she gave me one of her sweet, sexy smiles and turned, leaving the bathroom.
My eyes closed as a sigh of relief escaped me.
I needed that.
It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off me. I could breathe easier. It was fucked up, how fucked up I was getting over this Zach shit.
Taking a moment, I shook off my insecurities before I followed her.
“Feel free to wear my sweats whenever you want,” I suggested uselessly as I entered the closet.
She was pulling on cropped yoga pants that made her ass look even better. Not fucking fair. How was I supposed to deal with that, deal with all the men watching her? Then, to my horror, she pulled on a skin-tight tank.
Fuck me. I'm definitely going to get in trouble with her.
As she started putting on her shoes, I grabbed some shorts and a tank. I quickly dressed as she fussed with her hair. Ponytail. Bun. It didn't matter, she looked sexy no matter what she did to it.
She could make mom jeans look hot.
“Sweetheart, unless you want to put that green clay mask on your face and wear my sweats,” I said, quickly putting my shoes on, “you're going to be too sexy for my comfort. Let's go.”
“Funny, babe.”
She kept messing with her hair as I left for the kitchen. I grabbed her coffee and Chance’s leash.
“Austin. Chance. Let's go.”
