by Lily White
It only makes me feel worse, the ache between my legs reminding me of what I’ve done.
Trying not to think about it, I move back into the bathroom and pour salts into the water, let them dissolve and then step into a bath that smells like roses and lavender, the hot water soothing all the aches and pains.
Silence descends, the only sound breaking through is that of the water moving slowly around me as I shift my position to lay my head back against the lip of the tub, my body stretched out and soaking.
My eyes close, and I fight exhaustion. Mental and physical, my pulse pounding hard each time I think about what I’ve done.
Grant clears his throat as he comes into the bathroom, and my eyes snap open to look at him.
Still dressed in the white shirt and black pants of his tux, he holds a glass of water and some pills in his hands, his bowtie undone and hanging down from his collar.
He takes a seat on the wide lip of the tub next to me, handing me the glass and pills. I take them and smile.
“Thank you.”
A nod of his head as he twists in place to set the glass on a counter after I hand it back.
“How do you think it went tonight?” he asks, his voice calm, inquisitive.
Water sluices as I slide my arm beneath it, the surface coming up to my chin. Steam rises, carrying with it the soothing scent of flowers. My face beads with perspiration from the heat of the water, my muscles relaxing.
“I think it went well. Everybody appeared to have a good time.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, his voice so silent that I open my eyes to glance up at him.
His green eyes are running a lazy path down my body, the water doing nothing to hide me.
“Harrison still hasn’t agreed to invest. It feels like he’s jerking my chain. His lack of commitment is pissing me off.”
I don’t like Grant’s tone of voice, rage simmering just at the edges of what he says.
Seconds pass, my mind falling deeper into relaxation, my body heavy from the heat of the water.
The last person I want to talk about is Ari.
“You’ll get him. You always do.”
His fingers begin brushing through my hair, a gentle motion that has my eyes closing again. I’m so tired suddenly, and I blame the weeks of activity between planning the event and preparing for the gallery show.
“Maybe it will take more than I usually offer to secure the deal.” A pause, the weight of it disturbing me. “Like my wife, for instance.”
My eyes crack open again. Not all the way. The lids feel too heavy, like struggling against sleep.
“That’s not funny,” I answer, my words running together. Swallowing, I attempt to shake my head of the hazy feeling that’s overtaking me despite the terror I feel at what he said.
His fingers continue playing in my hair, digging deeper, the tips softly massaging my scalp.
He stares down at me, not an ounce of humor in his expression.
“Harrison has a thing for you, I’ve noticed. It seems like he is bored out of his mind when talking to me, but the second you walk into the room...”
Leaving the thought unfinished, Grant runs another lingering look down my body before returning to my face.
“How’s the headache? Are you feeling better?”
There never was a headache. And as to how I’m feeling, I can barely open my eyes.
“I’m exhausted,” I admit, leaning my head back against fingers that are slowly seducing me into sleep.
“You’ll sleep soundly tonight.”
For how weird his voice sounds, I could have been under the water listening to him. My mind’s racing to catch up, to understand.
“And I’ll finally get some sleep as well.”
It clicks then, a vein of anger fissuring through me, of distrust...of understanding.
“You drugged me.”
The bastard.
“I’ve only given you what your doctor recommended is best for you.”
I should have known this level of exhaustion wasn’t normal. Should have suspected it.
Why hadn’t I looked at those pills closer?
His hand dips in the water to slide fingers over the inside of my thigh. One tug and he spreads my legs, his fingers inching higher.
I try to pull away, but he grips down on both my thigh and my hair. Recognizing the threat of violence, I still, my heart hammering in my throat.
“A wife should never deny her husband.”
Grip loosening on my thigh, he slides his fingers higher, a teasing brush between my legs. But his hand in my hair fists, the quiet threat a whisper against my senses.
Leaning down, Grant speaks against my ear.
“I’ll not accept a whore who flirts with another man to come home and deny me the same.”
His hand locks down on my leg and yanks, my head sinking beneath the water, his fist in my hair holding me in place.
Bubbles erupt from my mouth, my arms striking out as I fight to rip my head away and push above the water. But Grant is too strong, his grip too tight, and the drugs have already weakened me to a point where fighting is useless.
I stop struggling despite the panic, despite my lungs beginning to burn from lack of air, despite a heart that beats with heavy, fast thuds as oxygen is deprived from my blood.
It stings to open my eyes under the water, hurts to look up and see Grant’s calm stare locked on my face, the moving water causing the lines of it to ripple.
His hand jerks and I’m ripped up above the surface by my hair, my mouth falling open, lungs gasping for air as his lips press to my ear with every bit of cold rage he can bleed into his low voice.
“Do not play me, Adeline. I don’t react well to it. I’ve been in this business for far too long to be strung along like a dog.”
Coughing and still struggling to breathe, I can’t answer him, can’t ask what he’s talking about. I don’t need to, though. He tells me as he grips his fist tighter, strands of my hair snapping from my scalp.
“I don’t know for sure if you’ve concocted some game with Harrison Nash to get what you want, but I find it convenient he leads me on while, at the same time, manipulating me to give you the things you want. I didn’t see it at first, not until tonight, but now that I’ve given it some thought, I think there’s more going on than meets the eye.”
Attempting to shake my head, I only accomplish making the room spin. The effects of the drugs combined with my adrenaline rushing too fast, too hard through my veins.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I love you. You’re my wife. But if I find out you’ve been doing things behind my back, I will get even. This is just a warning.”
His other hand comes up to palm my breast, finger and thumb squeezing the nipple so hard that I yelp. My head falls back as his wrist tugs at my hair, his hand exploring my body with such a slow calm that tears escape my eyes.
Ari makes me burn.
But Grant...he now has the effect of turning the blood in my veins to ice.
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” I manage to whisper, the lie falling so easily from my lips.
“I certainly hope not. But you will do something right. When I make it clear you’re to spread your legs for me, there’s no denying me that. For everything I do for you, the least you can do is see to it that my needs are met.”
His hand slips between my legs, his fingers pushing inside me.
“Do you understand?”
Lips trembling, I nod my head as best I can.
“Good.”
It’s a purr of sound, no rage, no fire. Just the bone-chilling lack of emotion, a glacial tone that leaves no room for misinterpretation.
“I’ll help you out of the bath, as I’m sure you won’t be able to walk with the drugs you’re on. If I were an asshole, I’d drag you out of here and let you crawl to bed. Remember that.”
When I don’t respond, he tugs my hair again, his eyes meeting mine with a warning behind them. “Say thank yo
u when your husband does something nice.”
My entire body trembles, but I find my voice within the terror. “Thank you.”
He grins, his hand releasing my hair as he sits straight, green gaze holding mine.
“You’re welcome. Pull the plug so the water drains, and I’ll carry you out.”
Hand shaking, I do as he says, the water quickly circling the drain, my exposed skin left cold, both from the lack of hot water and the chill of what Grant just did.
But as quickly as he threatened me, he reverts back to the man I know, his touch gentle as he helps me sit up, his arms hooking around my back and beneath my legs to lift me from the tub.
I’m dizzy, my muscles so loose I’m afraid I might fall. But he cradles me to his chest, carring me as my head falls against his shoulder.
Setting me on the side of our bed, he keeps an arm around my back to hold me up, his other hand grasping my chin to tilt my face to his. He kisses me, and I feel bile crawl up my throat, but I fake it anyway, pretend to want this.
Only because I’m too afraid to find out what happens if I say no.
Tears sting my eyes as his tongue dips inside my mouth, the taste of cigars and alcohol flooding me. I want to shove him away, but I wrap my arms over his shoulders, play my fingers in his hair.
His shoulders relax. He’s accepted he won.
An insidious whisper echoes in my head.
Maybe I deserved it.
I’m the one who cheated.
I was the first person to break our vows.
His mouth pulls away from mine, and his green eyes pin me in place.
“Lay back and spread your legs. Touch yourself while I undress.”
My lower lip trembles, but I do as he says, my legs like jelly, my movements uncoordinated.
As I push a finger down between my legs, his eyes lock on the movement, his hands working to strip off his shirt, unbuckle his pants.
He pulls his cock free and watches me while pumping it.
I can’t look.
Not after what he did to me.
Not after what I did to him.
Grant doesn’t care to hold my eyes, not like Ari. The connection isn’t what matters to my husband.
Just the sex.
Just getting what he wants.
He steps toward me, and my muscles lock as much as they can. My head swimming. A scream tearing through my mind with so much truth that I don’t want to accept I’ve been thinking it all along.
I don’t want this...
I don’t want him.
All I know is that this next step toward his control of me is one too far.
I have to get away.
Have to protect myself.
And as his body lays over mine and he thrusts inside me with one hard shove, I clench my eyes shut and accept the undeniable truth.
I don’t love my husband.
And my husband has never loved me.
Ari
Adeline is beautiful when she fucks. Absolutely breathtaking. A fucking angel that opens up and reveals what lingers beneath her skin.
The monster I’ve always known. The girl who welcomes freedom. The dancer who can move her body in ways that call to the aggression in a man...that can call to the monster in me.
It was reckless to take her like I did. In that hall. Where anybody could find us. Where her husband was only a room away, his friends and colleagues surrounding us.
But I couldn’t help myself. I’d lost control. I’d risked her in ways I probably shouldn’t have.
It only made me crave her more. Made the obsession worse. Made the killer inside me want to put a gun to the head of the man slowly pumping his cock while watching her touch a body that belongs to me.
I’m not sure what I’d expected when I left the event with her panties in one pocket and a used condom in the other.
That she would leave her husband?
That she would realize she was mine?
Maybe nothing that drastic, not after just one time, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this.
Adeline fucking her husband.
Hours after I was inside her.
The annoying son of a bitch practically rutting like a sweating pig against her beautiful body.
Touching something that no longer belongs to him.
Needless to say, it pisses me off. I can’t hold it against her. I’ve watched her fuck other men. A long time ago, granted, but it’s happened before. I’ll survive it. And the only reason I didn’t grab my gun and make a house call that would have ended in violence was because she wasn’t enjoying what the asshole was doing to her.
Just like all the others.
She lays there with her eyes staring at the ceiling, every bit of the wild, dirty soul she has trapped inside her head, unresponsive.
But still, they fuck.
That night...and every night after.
Every. Fucking. Night.
Almost like I was the aphrodisiac that restarted their marriage. But not for her.
For him.
I knot the tie at my throat and tug it tighter, watching the video of the first night for the twenty-seventh time.
Judge me for it. I don’t give the first fuck about your opinion. I haven’t been right in the head since the day I found her, and this is just another symptom of the insanity Adeline has caused.
It’s been two weeks since I’ve spoken to her. I’ve heard from Grant at least six times since then, but not her.
The silence is only pissing me off more.
Slamming the laptop closed, I cross the room to the mirror to ensure my tie is straight, black on a black shirt, before pulling the jacket on for my black suit, the absolute lack of color a bleak reminder of what I feel when she isn’t within reach.
I’ve taken a few jobs to fill the time. I’ve had dinner with Lincoln. But nothing has distracted me enough that she isn’t constantly on my mind.
Her show is tonight.
I glance in the mirror again.
And rip the tie off.
I fucking hate the things, they’re too restrictive. And with as aggravated as I already am, I don’t need the added annoyance. Plus, the likelihood I might use it to strangle Grant is high. Then again, I can make anything a weapon to use against someone if I want them dead bad enough. My leaving the tie at home doesn’t make him any safer.
Grabbing my keys and phone, I slip them both in my pocket as I take the elevator down to the garage, slip into the driver’s seat of my car and head downtown with a chip on my shoulder and a hell of a grudge.
I want to turn around, want to disappoint Adeline as much as she disappoints me, but I wind the streets regardless, find parking nearby and eat the distance to the gallery with a powerful stride.
Approaching the door, I nod my head at a young, blond woman at the door handing out brochures about the event. I take one to be polite. Not that I need it.
I’ve already bought every photo she has on display tonight, and I haven’t even seen them yet.
Thankfully, Rebecca was more than happy to accept my generous offer prior to the event, amusement in her voice when we spoke on the phone.
You remind me of my husband, she’d said, but didn’t elaborate on why. Not giving a damn who I reminded her of, I made sure nobody would walk away with a piece of Adeline.
She’s mine.
Every part of her.
Even the photos that are windows giving a clear view of what goes on in her mind.
Almost immediately when I step inside, I see Adeline standing with Rebecca. She’s beautiful, as usual. Her expression bright, blue eyes wide. Those blood red lips curve in a genuine smile while a third woman points to a photo I can’t see yet and makes some remark.
My gaze wanders the length of Adeline’s strapless black and silver gown, pausing over each curve where the fabric clings to her body.
Rebecca turns her head at that moment and catches sight of me, her hand touching Adeline’s shoulder as she whispers something an
d then walks my direction.
Part of the deal we made is that I’m an anonymous buyer. And just like I knew she would, she manages to slip away without drawing attention to my arrival.
“You look nice,” she says as she steps up to me as graceful as a dancer. I don’t bother to smile, it’s not my thing, but the lack of even the polite attempt doesn’t appear to bother her.
With an elegant hand, she sweeps her long strawberry blond hair from her shoulder so that it falls down her back, and she cradles her other hand beneath her round stomach before angling her head to the left.
“Come with me. We’ll talk in my office.”
Stepping inside, she closes the door and lifts a few catalogs from a seat to toss on a nearby table.
“You’ll have to forgive the mess. My daughter is due in four months and I’m falling behind with everything here.”
“It’s fine,” I say, taking a seat on one side of her desk while she takes a seat on the other. Blue eyes meet mine, amusement glimmering behind them.
“One million dollars is an awful lot of money for a few photographs.”
Her lips curve into a wicked grin as she pulls a ledger in front of her and opens it. “You only paid a quarter of that last time, if I remember correctly.”
I say nothing.
She grabs a pen and holds it over the ledger page without writing a damn word. When her blue eyes meet mine again, she grins.
“Why are you paying this much, Ari? You could have had them all for much less.”
Leaning back in my seat, I cross an ankle over a knee and stare back at her.
“Does it matter? Just fill out the paperwork and show me where to sign.”
“Have you even seen the photos?”
“No.”
“How long have you been in love with Adeline?”
A muscle in my jaw ticks. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about?”
A crook of her eyebrow as she looks down at the page and starts writing. “She’s married, you know?”
“To a dick,” I say, unworried that she’ll share my opinion with anyone else.
An odd expression crosses her face. “There’s something to be said for assholes.”