Now
With a scowl on my face, I look at the sex toys hanging on the racks in front of me. In a split second, I decide to grab three of them—all a different length, two with vibration mode, one with a suction cup—and chuck them all into my cart.
Then I walk off to the cash register, casually throwing in a box of condoms from the shelf and a bottle of lube as well.
The lady behind the counter doesn’t even look remotely interested in the fact that I’m buying these things. Not that she should. It’s a sex toy shop. But I don’t normally come here. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been here. I’m just not used to how it’s supposed to go.
But it does feel liberating to know I can come in here and buy whatever I want, solely for myself. After yesterday, I really needed to do something for me. Something out of the ordinary, something my parents taught me was wrong.
Screw the rules. Screw the world.
I’m doing this for me.
When the lady’s done scanning, she looks up and parts her lips, but nothing comes out. She just stares at my face, and it takes me a few seconds to realize why. I have a big bruise on my face from where I fell on the table while drunk.
She narrows her eyes and mutters, “That’ll be forty dollars.”
I hand her the cash while she keeps looking up at me, and I try not to notice. I clear my throat as she hands me the bag of toys. “Are you all right?” she asks.
I frown. “Yeah, why?”
“Well, you … your face …” She points at her own face now as if it’ll support her case. Like I don’t know I have a black eye.
“I’m fine,” I say, and I take the bag and turn around.
No one needs to know I was being stupid.
No one has to know anything about my life.
That’s the wondrous thing about being free. No one who decides what you do. No one makes your choices.
“Are you sure? I can … help,” she says softly.
I keep walking. With a smile on my face, I saunter out the store, knowing full well the lady behind the counter is eyeing my back. It feels nice not to be obligated to tell someone the truth.
When I get home, I park my car and grab my new goodies, eager to try them. However, when I get inside and close the door behind me, placing the bag of dildos on the cabinet beside me, I suck in a breath.
Someone is standing in front of my bookcase, snooping through my books.
He turns around when he hears me.
The book he was holding drops to the floor.
***
Accompanying Song: “Game Of Survival” by Ruelle
Drake
She’s here.
Like a wolf smells its prey, I sniff and take in a whiff of her perfume … the scent excites me.
I ignore the book that fell to the floor, as it doesn’t interest me right now. My focus lies completely on her. I don’t even care that she caught me, that I broke into her home … All I care is that she’s here and that I want her. Now.
I inch closer, and she backs up against the door, clutching the wood as if it’s going to help her. As if she wants to leave … like hell, she wants to. I know she desires me too. I can see it in her eyes that wander all over my body, those lips she licks briefly, and that fucking sexy blush on her cheeks.
She freezes as I step closer, her eyes the only thing moving, skidding up and down my body in a delectable manner. She’s so small; I tower over her like a statue. I could wrap my arms around her and then some. I could lift her up and carry her to bed. I could do any of these things … and she would be unable to stop me.
I lean in and place my hand on the door beside her. My breathing is ragged and heavy; drops of sweat roll down my back. I’m fuming with rage and arousal, and I don’t know if I can separate the two. I’ve hunted her for so long, stalked her in the night, and now that she’s right in front of me … I’m not sure I can control myself.
With my free hand, I brush aside a strand of her black hair, tucking it behind her ear. She sucks in a breath as my fingers softly touch her skin, and the left side of my lips briefly shifts into a smile. Her body tenses as I lower my head and feel the air surrounding us thicken with desire.
Lust has taken over my every waking thought. Ever since she opened up to me so beautifully when I sent her the last note—her playing with herself was a sight to behold—I’ve been thinking about coming back and claiming what’s mine. I knew I needed to have her, and I can no longer stop myself from going after her. Today, I will make her mine.
She tilts her head, looking straight into my eyes as I cock my head and lick my lips, ready to pounce. But then she parts her lips and says, “Wait.”
I stop before I kiss her. I was just a second away.
Her hands move up toward my face, but I remain rock hard solid. At first, I think she’s going to touch my cheek, but her fingers snake behind my ear, sweetly curling around my short hair before pulling down my hoodie.
I wait as she pauses and looks at me, probably determining if she can let me do what I came here to do. If I’m really here to kiss her … instead of being here to kill her.
Her brows twitch, and for a second, I think I spot a brief smile on her face before she blows out a short breath. Angst fills the room, and the heat between us feels scorching hot. While I trap her between my arms, my lips hover so closely to hers I can almost taste them.
That’s when I go in for the kill.
My lips take hers no-holds-barred, and it’s the most delicious, most sinful kiss I’ve ever taken. I know it’s wrong—that I shouldn’t even be here—but it feels too good to stop.
She doesn’t push me away, doesn’t fight me, and her lips even open up to mine. I run the tip of my tongue along the top of her lip and coax her to open her mouth, wanting to taste every single inch of her. My cock is already hardening in my pants just from the thought of claiming her body. God, if she lets me, I’ll fuck her through the night.
But then she pulls back, sucking in breath after heady breath, her lips pink and full … so fucking tantalizing.
“You should leave,” she murmurs softly, her eyes barely opening to look at me.
“But do you really want me to?” I reply with a low voice, trying to make her see differently.
She bites her lip and hesitates, which gives me the opportunity to lean in and press my lips to hers again. I can’t help myself. She’s too intoxicating. Too innocent not to taint. I want her so badly, and I don’t know why I care so much, but it doesn’t fucking matter. I know that I need her and that I won’t stop until she’s mine.
Except she draws back again, and this time, her eyes are still closed as she whispers, “It’s not right. Not now … I’m …”
“You’re what?” I murmur against her lips, my tongue quickly darting out to give her a taste of what’s to come.
But then those words come out of her mouth … and they make me want to strangle someone.
“I’m still … married.”
9.
Accompanying Song: “What Have We Done To Each Other” by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross
Hyun
He wears a frown on his face, and his shoulders slump as his hands come off the door. He looks down at his feet then jerks his head sideways, signaling for me to move.
I slide aside far enough for him to turn away from me and twist the doorknob.
Without saying another word, he opens the door, walks out, and closes it behind him.
I’ve been holding my breath since I said the word.
Married.
A chill runs up and down my spine.
I can’t believe I told him.
That I said it out loud.
That he was here … and that he kissed me.
It feels unreal.
I rush to the windows to see if he’s there, but he’s already gone. How he does it, I don’t know, but he’s always quick as a bird flying off into the sky, disappeari
ng from view. Just like that.
And the only thing I wonder … is whether he’ll come back again.
I close my eyes and shake my head, telling myself to stop. I can’t let myself go like that. Not when … Greg could be watching.
What if he saw him come inside?
What if he watched us kiss?
What if?
So many questions and I don’t even know if any of it is even real. I mean the notes told me he was, but they could be lies. Then again … why would he lie? What does he gain from all this?
I clutch the curtains in front of the window and sigh. I can still feel the heat of his lips, scorching on mine. Just thinking about it makes my pussy thump. God, he was amazing. I can’t believe I let myself go like that. It’s as if he did something to me—something intangible but definitely there. I can’t explain it. I feel like a totally different woman when I’m around him, and I don’t know yet if that’s a good or a bad thing.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him to leave. It feels bad … being alone in this house. Especially when I chased away the only person interested in me.
But I also know it was the right thing to do.
I can’t have him in my house. Can’t let him kiss me. Even though my body wants him so badly.
It’s dangerous if we’re together. If my husband sees him—if we’re seen together—he’ll kill us both.
***
Accompanying Song: “Obsession” by Golden State (Animotion Cover)
Drake
I sit back and drink my coffee from the plastic cup while watching her from afar. She’s sitting only a few seats in front of me, reading a newspaper while enjoying a Frappuccino. Her hair softly waves in the wind, and sometimes, I catch the scent of her perfume.
I turn back to my laptop and write some more.
I can’t help myself. When I see her … smell her … even taste her … it makes me want to turn it into words. I’m not great at talking, but I have a way with words on paper that’ll wrap any girl around my finger.
But mostly … her.
I’m only interested in her. Not one girl has captured my attention the way she did. Why? Because she needs someone to protect her. To keep her safe and out of harm’s way.
Someone who will defend her against enemies … people like her husband.
When she told me she was still married, I was shocked. I thought they’d separated and that she’d filed for divorce, but I never expected her to still be legally bound to him.
Maybe he didn’t want to sign the divorce papers. I’d imagine him to be that kind of a dickhead.
My hand instinctively folds into a fist, wishing it could pummel his head into the street and smash it to bits.
However, I need to keep my cool if I hope to stay out of jail.
I need to play this game the way it’s meant to be played. Slow and careful.
And right now, my focus lies on her.
She probably thinks I left her home because she told me the truth about her and her husband. That I don’t want anything to do with a woman who’s still taken.
She’s wrong.
I still want her. I still need her, and I will have her … And I don’t care what I have to do to make it happen.
Having him in the picture only fires me up that much more.
I lick my lips and focus on the story at hand.
I imagine her getting up and leaving her coffee on the table. She saunters away from the coffee shop, clutching her bag close to her body. I close my laptop and tuck it into my bag, silently following her. She seems unaware that I’m tailing her. But then, as she checks her purse, she briefly glances over her shoulder and sees me. We stare at each other, and time seems to stand still.
Then she goes into an alley, and I go after her. It’s a dead end.
I see her looking, trying to find a way out, but there’s nowhere to go. She’s surrounded by walls … and me.
I sneak up behind her.
I know it’s vicious.
I know it’s wrong.
But she did something to me the moment I saw her in the library. With those eyes, she lured me in. They told me she was ready to be taken away. That she was done with the world and needed closure.
I could provide that for her.
She only needs to ask.
Perfect.
Smiling to myself, I close my laptop and stare at her as she takes gentle sips from her coffee. Then I tuck my laptop away, get up, and go home … so I can print this out and mesmerize her once more.
10.
Accompanying Song: “Ritual Spirit” by Massive Attack & Azekel
Hyun
When I left the coffee shop, I could’ve sworn he was there.
I saw him.
At least, I think I did.
I don’t know why, but it felt like I was being watched. Except when I turned around, no one was there. Still, it didn’t sit right, so I quickly finished my coffee and left.
As I get home, I quickly close the door behind me and take a few breaths before settling in. I feel so on edge these days. Nothing feels safe. Nothing relaxes me. At least … not while Greg still lives.
I swallow and turn on the light, which flickers … and then goes out.
Frowning, I turn the switch on and off, but the light remains out. I guess the bulb’s broken. So I go to the kitchen and grab a new one then fetch my small ladder so I can change it. I set it down and climb up with the new bulb in my hand. As I twist the bulb off and fit the new one, I notice a small wire hanging loosely from the fixture.
Narrowing my eyes, I pick it up and take it out, stepping down the ladder again. And the moment I turn on the light, I see what it truly is.
A tiny microphone. It looks like a bug.
Who would plant a bug in my house?
My heart is racing as I inspect the microphone, but I know it won’t tell me anything about where it came from or who planted it there. However, the only people I can come up with who’d be interested in what I have to say would be Greg … or Max.
But Greg already knows I won’t spill the beans … because I can’t go to the cops; they’re in his pocket. The only one I could talk to would be the newspapers … and it sounds like something Max would be afraid of me doing.
Telling the whole world about their twisted little bride games.
I swallow and think to myself. Should I call him? Tell him I found it? No, that would only give him an advantage. I should go to him and let him know I found out about his scheme, and that I’m not playing games anymore. That I’m done with being a part of whatever it is they’re doing, and that I want them to stop.
For some crazy reason, this sounds like the best idea to me.
I know it’s stupid, going back to that place and falling into the same trap all over again.
However, I know they’re really not that interested in me. Otherwise, they would’ve forced me to stay, and they didn’t. They let me go, which means I wasn’t what Max and his brothers were looking for.
Good thing because I don’t think I could’ve survived if I was.
I crush the microphone in my hand and tuck it into my pocket. Then I go out and get into my car, driving straight to the place I last knew where Max worked. I hope he’s still there.
I park my car not far away from the building, and I go inside.
Trying not to draw any attention to myself, I walk steadfast for the elevator, just as I did the first time I came here when Max invited me. This time, however, I come unannounced.
The man standing near the elevator breaks my stride by saying, “Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Mr. Marino,” I lie through gritted teeth.
The man looks me up and down, narrowing his eyes, but then he proceeds toward the elevator and presses the button. “Follow me.”
I’m not sure i
f he believes me, but I don’t care, as long as he takes me where I’m supposed to be. So I step inside and wait until the doors close.
The wait feels like it takes forever, and sweat drops trickle down my spine just from being confined in a tiny room with a man I don’t know. When the doors finally open again, I breathe out loud and step outside, briefly glancing over my shoulder to find the man still glaring at me.
I ignore it and press on. Maybe he’ll call Max and tell him someone’s coming to meet him, but I’ll take that risk. Maybe he already knows just from hearing me pick up the microphone. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve come too far to turn around now.
So I walk up to his door, knock a couple of times, and turn the handle before he even says I can come in.
He’s sitting behind his desk, typing away on a laptop, his eyes only barely reaching above the screen.
“Hyun?” he murmurs, squinting at me.
“Hello, Max,” I say, clearing my throat.
He closes his laptop and scoots back his chair, cocking his head. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect this. I’m curious why you thought this was a great idea.” He smiles. “You do realize how dangerous this is, don’t you?”
I nod. “I realize that, but I have to ask you something and I couldn’t do it on the phone.”
“Is it about the games?” He raises his brows. “Because that’s long over. We don’t want you.”
“No, it’s not about the games.”
“I must say … your English has gotten much better since the last time we spoke,” he muses.
“Thanks,” I say bluntly, not wanting to go into it.
He doesn’t need to know I’ve been taking lessons.
Dirty Wife Games Page 6