“You want an orgasm, you come to me. I’ll clear my schedule and eat you out for hours on my desk. Buy you a new toy to test out when you need that feeling of your pussy being filled up.”I swipe a bit of my release that she missed and slip it into her mouth. Then I grip my cock in my other hand and lift it closer to her face. “But this cock right here is off-limits until you come to your senses.”
“What? What senses are you talking about? The ones you thoroughly fucked out of me?Thosesenses?”
I shake my head and force myself not to laugh. She’s adorable, even when she’s covered in my cum.
“The ones where you finally admit what we both know to be true. That we are more. More than this contract, more than the show we put on while we’re in public, more than the fake marriage we pretend to be in. Because that’s exactly what we’ve been doing—pretending it’s not real, instead of the other way around.”
Her chest rises and falls with each word she’s taking in. “You know, for a guy who’s trying to convince me that he doesn’t want to give me his big dick, you sure are failing to make your point as you hover over my head with it. It seems to be taking on a second wind, like it’s ready to go again.”
“Luisa, I’m not joking with you.”
“But didn’t you say the next time you fucked me, you’d take me bare?” She reaches between her legs and pulls out the toy that brought her to the edge tonight. And for a moment I allow myself to scowl at it, knowing that it could have been me instead. “You made such a mess before. Wouldn’t you like to see how your cum would look coming out of me?” She pushes her glistening tits together, reminding me of how easily they made me come a few moments ago.
I shake my head as I narrow my eyes at my wife. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me. Avoidance, I expected from her. But sexual tactics are just plain cruel when I’ve done nothing but imagine sinking into her since the morning I woke up and realized she had slipped from my hotel room.
I’m not letting her run this time.
“If you want to fuck your husband, you can do so when you start acting like you intend on being his wife for the rest of your days.”
Her mouth drops in shock as I move off the bed.
I was serious when I said I wasn’t done with her yet.
“Now turn around and get on all fours so I can eat you out from behind. You can count the spanks. One for every text message you didn’t respond to. Maybe then you’ll learn your lesson.”
But given the flush on her face and the smile of her lips, I know she won’t.
forty-one
The November chill settlesinto my bones, but I don’t dare take my eyes off the field.
Julian Vega, the first baseman from Miami who’s playing for Team Dominican Republic, swings his bat, and the sound of the ball making contact is heard throughout the entire stadium. We all watch in awe as the ball is sent flying far into the stands, earning a grand slam and securing a win for the team.
“You’re going to catch a cold, woman.” A voice I would know anywhere comes up behind me. A large suit jacket is placed over my shoulders, enveloping me in a scent that is uniquely Nick.
“There are heaters in here,” I grumble, though I still pull the jacket closer around me.
“Yes, but you’re standing on the open side of the suite ledge, forcing me to come to your rescue. Being chivalrous is quite taxing when your wife refuses to wear a jacket. Now everyone can see my hard nipples through my dark shirt. I have no choice but to hold you close. You know, for decency and body heat purposes.”
“Of course.” I smile as his muscular arms wrap around me from behind.
“You smell good.” He nuzzles my neck.
“I smell like you,” I snicker.
“Not exactly. But if you’d let me drag you up to my office, I could rectify that.”
The smile stays on my face as I shake my head. “You’re incorrigible.”
“What I am is in need of a fix, and my wife is my drug of choice.”
He’s kept true to his promise of keeping his dick away from me during our sexual encounters, and I really believe it must be some kind of sexual mental warfare. Because each day I find myself closer to giving in. Telling Nick that this, us, feels real. And, more terrifyingly, that I want to be his wife forever.
Wife.
That damn word Nick keeps throwing around as if it’s permanent. And the jump my heart makes at the misguided hope that it could be.
I keep replaying the terms in my head. We stay married for a year, and then we quietly divorce.
