Despite my sudden tide of anger, I’m quietly troubled by the uneven rhythm of my heartbeat. My lungs sip for oxygen as if I’m worried, even when I have no reason to be. If she tries to disappear a second time, I’ll drag her back, strap her to a chair with duct tape, and force my dick in her throat again.
For fuck’s sake. I can’t think of anything else these days.
To appease the unsteady thrum, I gulp more liquor and storm out of the guest room, making a beeline for the master suite.
When I get there, my heart does a weird jittery thing when I find her curled up on top of my duvet, dressed in the skull t-shirt I’d given her, bare legs tucked to her chest. Sable hairs map the fresh cotton pillowcase as she lies motionless, oblivious to my approach.
From the foot of the bed, I observe her every breath and how her lashes flutter as she dreams. I continue to drink from the bottle, my boots rooted to the rug with demons sitting on my shoulder. What would it take for my wife to fully surrender?
We hadn’t discussed sleeping arrangements. However, I’m quietly pleased to see she’s accepted my comments and placed herself in my suite. That’s exactly where she belongs.
Curious to see if her buttocks are still raw, I skirt the mattress and lightly trace the curve of her thigh, pinching the t-shirt so it creeps up to expose that fuckable ass of hers.
The temperature rises when a deeply erotic murmur leaves her throat, every bit the tease even in her sleep. When I take another swig of whiskey, I realize my heart is pounding.
I drag a hand down my face, carry the bottle with me to the adjoining bathroom, and set it on the vanity. Flicking on the shower, I strip and get under the powerful jets. Water sluices over my shoulders and soaks my hair. I think about jerking off, but stop short when a filthy fleeting fantasy involving her catches me off guard.
Jesus fuck.
By the time I’m done lathering up and rinsing, the desire to go out has left me, replaced by a much darker urge.
I turn off the water and throw on my black and gold Versace robe, letting it hang open. My iPhone vibrates from my jeans strewn on the floor. It’s a message from Reno downstairs telling me the car is waiting. I grab my smokes from the adjacent pocket, tap out a cigarette, and light it, all the while considering my next move.
Back in the bedroom, I navigate the control panel on the wall to lower the smart blinds. As soon as they block out the sunset, the bedside lamps automatically turn on. She’s still asleep, blissfully unaware of this monster lurking in the shadows. My blood sizzles and my dick turns angry. I’ve never watched a woman sleep before, or even been interested in taking the time to notice. Somehow, the vulnerability it gives her has my veins scorching.
I drag a low-slung armchair close to the edge of the bed, checking the position offers the best view of my sleeping beauty, then sink down and kick my feet up so they settle on the mattress. My dick is at full attention before me like a radar searching for its next target. It’s been unsettled for long enough. Something has to give.
Taking my time to enjoy the nicotine, I let my mind run away with itself, unable to ignore the onslaught of flitting thoughts in my head. The faster they swarm, the more disturbed they become. Something has activated in my chest, making me feel more psycho than I’m comfortable with.
This ends now.
I take another drink, dying of thirst but finding the alcohol inadequate, and send a message to Letterman and Reno in our group chat.
Dré: You’ll have to go out without me tonight.
Letterman: Are you serious?
Reno: Of course he is. His balls are too heavy to drag around town.
Letterman: You promised things wouldn’t change.
Dré: Nothing has changed. I have business to take care of.
Reno: What business?
Dré: Personal business.
Before either of them could follow up, I close the app and drop the phone onto my lap, feeling guilty for being a dick about it. Regardless, I don’t answer to anyone. Not even those two. They’ll still have a wild night without me, and I’ll make it up to them once this complication is dealt with. Besides, I’m getting drunk and feeling extremely horny.
A winning combo.
19
SINÉAD
A yanking sensation wakes me. When my eyelids flick open, I’m blind. My wild blinking catches on fabric. I go to move my arms, but they’ve been hoisted over my head and my wrists are bound.
“Dré?” I call out in a panic. “Is that you?”
