Marx Girl

by T L Swan

  “Show me your ring?” she asks.

  I feel embarrassed, because she knows that we aren’t really married, but I lift my hand anyway. “It’s Ben’s mother’s ring. I’m just borrowing it for tonight.” I smile shyly.

  She smiles knowingly. “Forgive me if I’m intruding, but Rick told me about you having trouble accepting…” she gestures to the room with her Champagne glass, “all of this.”

  I drop my head. “Yeah.” I look up and frown. “Does your husband…” I pause because I don’t even know what to call it.

  She nods. “Yes, Rick does the same job as Ben.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “The exact same job?”

  She nods. “Took me a while to get my head around it, too.”

  “How?” I pause as I try to get my wording right. “How do you make peace with him leaving the house for work?”

  She smiles sadly. “These men are above most others, Bridget. Their sacrifice is for our country’s freedom.”

  I watch her.

  “Look around the room, look at them.”

  I look up and across to Ben as he speaks with his friends. His legs are wide apart, his chest is out, and he’s standing tall. He really does wear his uniform with pride. He’s glowing.

  She grabs my hand. “Do you want my advice?” She smiles.

  I nod hopefully.

  “Spend every day with Ben like it’s your last.”

  My face falls.

  “Because it might be. One day he may go to work and never come home.”

  My chest tightens at the thought.

  “But that’s his…” She gestures to her husband and corrects herself. “Their decision.”

  My eyes search hers.

  “We’re just the women who love them. Their purpose is greater than being with us.”

  I drop my head sadly. “I just can’t stand the thought of it.”

  “Stand the thought of what? Being in love with a man who loves his country so much that he’s prepared to die for it? That’s the definition of a true hero.”

  I watch her but stay silent.

  “Make peace with it, Bridget. It comes with the territory. He loves you. Enjoy him. Love him.”

  My nostrils flare as I try to stop the stupid tears from appearing.

  Ben’s hand snakes around my hips and he smiles. “We have to take a seat.” He gestures to the left. “Over this way.” His face falls when he sees my face.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispers.

  I smile and squeeze Ally’s hand, and she smiles knowingly. “Nothing, babe.” I kiss him softly. “Everything’s perfect.”

  We walk over and take a seat at our table and the rest of the group starts talking about something else, but my concentration is on Ben and what the hell he’s thinking.

  He’s frowning as he stares at something across the room.

  “Who are you looking at?” I whisper discretely.

  He puts his arm around the back of my chair and fiddles with my hand in his lap. “Look who’s here…”

  “Who?” I frown.

  “Jason Steele.”

  My eyes widen. Isn’t that the man he was supposed to kill? “You mean…”

  He nods once.

  Shit.

  I widen my eyes as I sip my Champagne. Stop drinking. Stop drinking now!

  Oh, jeez. “Where are the bathrooms?” I ask.

  Ben points to the back of the room. “Back out in the corridor.” He glances down at me. “Do you want me to show you where they are?”

  “No, I’ve got it. Back in a minute.”

  “I’ll try to find you a less lap-dance-inducing drink.” He smirks down at me.

  I giggle. “Okay, sounds good.”

  I make my way out to the bathroom, and after I’ve been I move to the basin to wash my hands. A cubicle door opens and a gorgeous girl with dark hair walks out.

  I take out my lipstick and start to apply it.

  “We haven’t met,” she says to my reflection in the mirror.

  I turn to her and smile. “Hello, I’m Bridget.” I go to shake her hand and she just glares at me. I instantly drop my hand. Okay, then. How rude.

  She folds her arms, full of attitude, and leans her behind to rest on the basin. Her eyes hold mine. “He’ll get sick of you, you know,” she sneers.

  Oh, really? We’re playing that game, are we? I can’t hold it in and I smile. “Who? You mean my husband?” I ask sweetly.

  Game on, mole.

  She lifts her chin defiantly as she glares at me

  “You mean like he got sick of you?” I ask.

  “You don’t know him like I do.” Her face twists with disgust.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. “Am I supposed to feel threatened by you?” I ask, acting surprised.

  She narrows her eyes. “I would, if I were you. Ben and I go way back.”

  “Oh,” I sigh sympathetically. “That’s really sad. You and he go way back and yet he begged me to marry him.” I hold my hand up and wiggle my ring finger. “You obviously can’t please him the way I do.”

  Her mouth drops open, rattled my reply.

  Stupid bitch.

  She has no idea who she’s fucking with here. I pat her on the shoulder sympathetically. “If that’s the best you’ve got, sweetie, it’s no wonder you couldn’t snag him.”

  She tears her arm from my reach.

  “Nice to meet you.” I smile. “I’d better get back, but I’ll think of you tonight when I’m fucking his brains out.”

  She glares at me and I smile broadly.

  “Bitch,” she mumbles under her breath.

  “That’s Mrs. Bitch to you,” I reply with a wink.

  I take one last look at her and walk back out into the corridor, straightening my dress as I go.

  Now… where is that hunk of a husband of mine?

  18

  BEN

  I stand at the bar as I wait for the drinks I’ve just ordered. The room is bustling. I get bumped by a man at the side of me, and I glance down and do a double-take.

  Jason Steele waits at the bar alongside me, his eyes focused on something in front of him. Without glancing my way, he slides a folded napkin to me across the bar. I wait a few seconds and discretely take it, placing it in my pocket.

  What the fuck is this he’s giving me?

  My drinks arrive and I take them, returning to my position without making eye contact or saying a word to him.

  Bridget comes back from the bar and smiles down at the floor.

  “Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she says as she takes her drink and sips it. “That’s better.” She gestures to her drink. “I just met one of your fuck buddies.” Her eyes dance with mischief.

  I look at her flatly. “What did you do?”

  She slides her hand under my jacket and around my waist. “Nothing she didn’t deserve.”

  I smirk, and kiss her forehead. “Behave yourself,” I whisper.

  A brunette walks past and glares at us; Bridget smiles and raises her glass in a silent toast.

  I have to bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. “You met Nicole, I see.”

  Bridget looks up at me sarcastically. “More like she met me.”

  I tighten my grip on my girl; her confidence is a real fucking turn-on. Bridget is one of the most confident women I know; she never has been insecure of other women. She knows that nobody comes close to her for me. Anderson walks past. I need to speak to him. “I’ve got to talk to this guy, Didge. You good for a minute?” I ask.

  “I’m fine.” She smiles.

  “You’re more than fine,” I whisper as our eyes lock.

  She licks her lips and I feel my cock twitch. I shake my head. Concentrate. Later.

  “Anderson!” I call as he walks past.

  He turns to see me. “Buzz.” He laughs as he shakes my hand. “What have you been up to, old friend? I haven’t seen you for a while.�
�

  “I’ve been on leave.” I glance back to Bridget, who is now talking to the others. “I got married.”

  “Well, fuck me.” He laughs in shock. “I’d never thought I’d see the day.”

  I laugh. “It happens to the best of us. “

  “Big turn-out.” He smiles as he looks around the room.

  “Yeah, have you seen John or Sam?” I ask. “I need to speak to them.”

  He frowns as he looks around. “No. I haven’t, and I haven’t been able to reach them all week.” He frowns. “It’s weird. They had a job on in Europe, and I know they landed back in Washington because Sam called me from the airport. But nobody has seen them since.”

  Hmm, interesting. “Did you call their homes?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to worry their wives prematurely, but I do know that they both said they were coming here tonight.” He shrugs. “But I haven’t seen them yet.”

  “Right.” I nod as I think. What’s going on here? “Well, good to see you.” I smile as I shake his hand. “How are Kerry and the kids?”

  “Good, good, she’s over there.” He gestures to the far corner. “Kids are sending me broke.”

  “I’ll come over and introduce Bridget later,” I tell him.

  He points to me as he starts to walk backwards to the bar. “You make sure of that, and congratulations, hey?”

  A fuss of people and cameras flash in a rush towards the door. I know that the president has just arrived with his secretary of state. All eyes turn to them and I glance over to see Bridget, who is watching on in awe. She smiles sexily up at me, and I take her hand in mine.

  “Are you holding my hand in public, Mr. Statham?” she asks as she raises her eyebrow in question.

  “No.” I smirk. “I’m holding you back from giving the president a champagne-fuelled lap dance.”

  She laughs out loud and I feel myself melt.

  I inhale deeply.

  God, I love this woman.

  BRIDGET

  I stand in the ballroom, watching every move he makes. He’s constantly involved in conversations, and yet he’s hardly speaking a word.

  This is him. This is the Ben I know. It isn’t only me who feels his power; it seems everyone around him does, too. He omits strength. When he does speak, everyone listens.

  He’s with his four friends, nine feet away from me while I talk to Ally.

  But his eyes are fixed firmly on me. Occasionally, he drops them to my feet and slowly raises them back up my body. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and I feel my sex clench deep inside.

  God, I’ve never known a man so sexual.

  He has that look in his eyes tonight, the one that I love.

  I fucking own you.

  He calls to my body in a way no other man ever has. There’s this raw, animalistic, physical attraction. The fact that I like the person inside that perfect body is just a bonus.

  He gestures to the doorway with his chin, and I nod.

  Finally, I get him alone.

  He shakes his friend’s hand and then walks over, and I smile and kiss the girls I met on the cheek. “Lovely meeting you.”

  With his hand on the small of my back, we walk out in silence and get into a hire car that’s waiting for us. Then we drive back to his home.

  He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to.

  I know.

  It’s on.

  Ben Statham is here in all his fucking glory, and hell, I can hardly wait to get him naked.

  He opens his apartment door and I wait for his instruction. He gestures for me to walk in and my heart starts to race. I walk to the living room and turn to him.

  “Get in the bedroom, Bridget,” he commands.

  Fuck…

  Seriously, I’m so turned on right now by him ordering me around in that uniform, he’ll only have to blow on me and I’ll orgasm.

  I turn and walk up the hall, into the bedroom.

  He walks in behind me and holds his hand up for me to stop, and I freeze at the end of the bed.

  He circles me, his eyes burning holes through my dress. My heart is hammering in my chest. He slowly slides down the zipper and takes my dress down over my hips, holding my hand as I step out of it.

  His eyes drop to the tiny, lacy black G-string I am wearing, and he hisses in approval before sliding them down. He takes my bra off and I stand before him in black, thigh-high sheer stockings… nothing else.

  “You were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight,” he whispers as he continues to circle me.

  I smile.

  “And you’re all mine.”

  God, just fuck me.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  “Kiss me,” he whispers.

  I step forward to kiss his lips and his eyes close in pleasure. I think this is the hottest I’ve ever been for it in my life. He’s in full uniform and I’m naked. I want him so badly.

  Our kiss turns desperate and his fingers drop to swipe through my flesh.

  “Mmm,” he moans as he circles them deeper. “This beautiful cunt of yours is dripping wet.”

  My eyes close and his hands take my jaw, turning our kiss desperate.

  We turn into animals and kiss like there’s no tomorrow. I tear his jacket over his shoulders as he rips his tie to loosen it. I unzip his pants and slide them down his legs. I move to the buttons on his shirt. I can’t get them undone fast enough.

  Quick, quick!

  I grab his shirt and take it off. He stands before me, naked except for his tie. I grab the tie and drag him to me to kiss him with everything I have.

  His cock is hard and I can feel the pre-ejaculate smear on my stomach.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” he growls as his eyes flicker with dangerously high arousal.

  I kneel on the bed and drop to my elbows as my heart beats hard in my chest.

  Tonight, I’m all his and I’m living the army dream.

  Prepare for combat.

  I wake to the sound of Ben in the bathroom. It’s early and still quite dark.

  I roll to my side and watch him. He walks out into the bedroom, unaware that I’m awake, and picks up his pants to rustle around in the pocket. He digs out a napkin, reads it and then walks out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

  Huh? I frown.

  What’s he doing? What was he doing with that napkin?

  I lie in the dark for a moment as I think. He was reading something. Who gave him a note at last night’s function, and why didn’t he show it to me? I troll my brain for an answer.

  Nicole.

  “You don’t know him like I do… I would be insecure if I were you. Ben and I go way back.”

  I lie in the dark and think. I didn’t feel insecure at all last night when I saw her. I felt cherished and respected, and I’m normally a very confident person. But why did he sneak out in the dark and close the door behind him just now if he has nothing to hide.

  I roll over, annoyed with myself for feeling like this.

  Stop it, we’ve been through way too much to be together for him to fuck it up now.

  Imagine that, though. He comes back and snaps his fingers and I drop everything to fall back into his arms… all the while he’s still hooking up with his long-time booty call.

  My stomach rolls.

  Stop it.

  He wouldn’t, I know he wouldn’t. That’s not who Ben is.

  A little voice from deep in my psyche whispers a disturbing thought. You thought you knew him before. Will you ever really know this man?

  What is real and what is a façade that he’s created?

  Stop it, stop thinking of this shit. It’s not true.

  It’s just not true. I know him. I know I know him.

  I rustle around in bed as I try to make myself go back to sleep.

  Is he out there, calling her right now?

  If I don’t go out there now, I’ll never know.

  Fuck this, because I do nee
d to know. I throw the blankets back angrily and sneak out of the bedroom.

  He’s at the kitchen counter in the dark with his laptop open. The light from the screen lights up the space.

  I fold my arms defensively in front of me. “What are you doing?” I ask.

  His eyes flicker up and he snaps the laptop closed, looking guilty. “Nothing. Just checking emails. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Bullshit,” I reply.

  He picks up the computer and the napkin. “What are you talking about, Bridget?”

  “What’s on the napkin?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar.” I hold out my hand. “Show me.”

  He screws up his face. “What?”

  “You heard me. Hand it over.” I open and close my hand.

  “You’re being ridiculous,” he snaps as he brushes past me, heading back into the bedroom.

  I storm after him as I begin to see red. “Did one of your girls write you a love letter?” I yell.

  His face falls in surprise. “No. They didn’t!” he yells back.

  “Don’t you yell at me!” I yell.

  “Go to sleep, Bridget.”

  “The only place I’ll be going is the airport if you don’t tell me what’s on the napkin.”

  “Work stuff. And don’t fucking threaten me. I don’t lie to you! I’ve never lied to you!”

  “What work stuff?”

  “You’re impossible. Leave it alone.”

  “Ben,” I say calmly. “Show me the napkin, please.”

  He glares at me and hands it over. I open it.

  If something happens to me

  Safety deposit box 1190

  Strawberry Hills

  Code –33996425

  I glance back up at him. “Who gave you this?”

  He clenches his jaw. “Jason Steele.”

  My eyes widen and I feel like a fool. “Oh.”

  He brushes past me, into the bathroom, and turns the shower on before he quickly hops under the water.

  Fuck. I just carried on like a two-year-old.

  I walk into the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

  He ignores me and begins to wash himself.

  “I was Googling the deposit box,” he snaps. “Nice to know what you think of me, though.”