I crumbled flat on to the table, my gaze to the glass ceiling that showed a clear starlit sky.
That felt good. Too good.
I turned my gaze back to Carey and saw him staring at me. We gazed into each other's eyes and in that greenroom, surrounded by sweet flowery scents, a connection enveloped us, and just as quickly it came, it dissipated. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped away from me. Suddenly, I remembered where I was, who I was with, and what we had just done.
A few minutes ago, he had been accusing me of working with his father, and instead of defending myself, I let him have his way with him like I was a fuck doll he could use to exorcise his frustrations. And shamefully, I liked it.
Chapter 16
Carey
AFTER MONTHS OFbeing unable to sleep comfortably. Of wild insomnia that was close to threatening my life, the cure for it seemed to be sex with my wife. It's so hilariously ironic, because I was sure she was the cause. My insomnia started after we got married and I have been having trouble sleeping for a while now.
At first I thought it was because of the uncomfortable sleeper I was using as a bed. But after Thalia's mother died, and Thalia went back to sleeping in her own room, the restlessness continued. Until the day I fucked her in that greenhouse. I slept well that night. I felt relieved, as if I had removed an enormous ball of tension weighing on me. So much for thinking she had no effect on me. I needed her like a drug addict needed drugs. Now that it had been weeks since the garden party, the sleeplessness was returning. The long nights of staring that the ceiling were getting longer.
If only she wasn't what she was. If only my addiction was of a good person and not a scheming social climber like her. What made it worse was that it seemed as if I was suffering alone. She, on the other hand, was enjoying being Mrs. Carey Hawthorne. She left the apartment early in the morning and came back late at night. Sometimes later than me. I thought little of it at first.We agreed to lead separate lives, after all. But then she kept coming home late, way too many times, especially for someone without a job. And she would come back flushed, with a wistful expression topped by a smile. Like someone who's been freshly fucked.
What was she up to? She didn't have any friends. At least none I've seen. She also seemed reluctant to go to parties and events that we were invited to. Last night, she came back home wearing an outfit that could best be described as for the club. When I asked her where she had been, she shrugged and went to her room. The tube dress she had on hugged her body so well, I had the urge to rip it off her and make love to her while she answered exactly where she had been.
Was she seeing someone else? Should I care?Maybe this is why my restlessness had returned. I slept with her and realized that I wanted more. I needed more. She has a hold over me, and I need to get her out of my system before I lose it. If she knew the power she had, she would use me like a pawn.
I marched to my bedroom, resisting the urge to not enter hers and again could not find sleep until the early hours of the morning. Even my dreams were plagued with Thalia and the mysterious man she was sleeping with.
Thalia was having breakfast early the following morning, to my surprise. "Anything amiss?" I asked when I saw her buttering toast in the breakfast room. Sun shining on her curls and kissing her glowing skin.
"You know, I've woken up earlier than you my entire life. I literally used to clean your room while you were asleep."
What she didn't know was that I would pretend to be sleeping so I could watch her ass as she bend over to put away my clothes. I especially enjoyed watching her clean my nightstand and glare at her cleavage as it shook in time with her dusting.
I drew out a chair and sat down. "And now you wake up later than most people, now that you've married rich."
She glared at me as she dropped the toast on her plate and picked up her coffee cup.The sleeveless turquoise dress she had on was not something I had seen her in before. It looked trendy and sophisticated. Similar to what many women in on the upper end of the social class I've seen wearing.
"You've got plans for today?" I asked, not expecting an answer. I got one. She nodded. "I'm going to that concert tonight, and I'll be taking Darcy with me. She and I are getting some clothes from a designer friend of hers and Darcy said we should be at the store early."
Thalia sounded excited. This was the first time in our marriage she has given me more than a one sentence reply.
"Darcy?" She was spending time with Darcy?
"You sound annoyed?"
"That's because Darcy is a troublemaker who enjoys blowing up her life with no care who will be affected."
She scoffed. "Sucks, cause I have been spending plenty of time with her, actually."
"Is that why you've been coming home late recently? You've been out partying with Darcy?" A small part of me was happy it was Darcy she's been spending time with and not some guy, a larger, more rational part knew how bad a relationship with someone as unpredictable as Darcy would be to her reputation.
"Is there any issue,Daddy?"
My cock responded to that last word, ignoring what she meant by it. All it wanted to hear was Thalia saying it to me. Preferably in bed and in the throes of ecstasy.What the fuck was wrong with me? I'm into daddy play now?Thalia was slowly driving me insane without doing much at all. "You can't be friends with Darcy."
She choked on her coffee. "Excuse me!"
"Darcy has a reputation, and if you want to be a politician's wife, you can't be seen with her ever."
She looked at me as though I had grown two heads. Her eyes narrowed, then softened. Her voice was soft and took me off guard when she spoke. "Why do you act like you hate your father controlling your career, only to act like you want what he wants?"
That's because as much as I hated my father and his rigid control, he was always right. "I told you before, I want what he wants."
