Overnight Wife(11)
So I squeeze her hand gently, once more, and release it. “By that logic,” I reply, “even if you did get the divorce, we’d still be seeing each other every single day, for hours and hours.” I arch an eyebrow. “Since you won’t be quitting this job for love or money, and I obviously won’t be leaving my own company…”
Her cheeks flush again, and she grimaces like she didn’t think about that point.
I shrug one shoulder, playing at being carefree. “So what does the ring really matter then? There’s no difference, really, whether you take it off or leave it.”
“Why?” she asks, and at first, I don’t understand. She shakes her head and tilts her head back, gaze fixed on mine. “Why do you want me to be your wife so badly? You don’t know anything about me.”
I move in close again, close enough to make her head tilt all the way back in order to keep those soft eyes of hers fixed on my own. I reach up to tuck a single lock of her dark hair behind her ear, my fingers grazing the soft shell of her earlobe just enough to send a shiver down her spine. “I know some things about you, Mara,” I lean in to whisper, and this time it’s not just her spine that shivers, but her whole body.
She leans toward me, her chest grazing mine, just for an instant, but it’s enough for me to feel her nipples are rock hard. The way they were our wedding night when she rode me, screaming my name…
God my cock is so fucking hard right now I can barely stand it.
“For example, I cannot stop remembering the look on your face when you come,” I murmur, grinning. “Do you know your lips part, and you flush all the way down your chest?” I reach up to brush my fingertip along the underside of her breast, and she gasps, her lips barely inches from mine, and parted now, the same way they do when she comes, yes, just like that. “God, I love watching you come.”
Her throat works tightly as she swallows. “I… I never knew I could come that hard, until…”
“Until our wedding night?” I lean in. Just another inch and I’ll close the gap between us. I can claim that sweet mouth of hers all over again…
“Uh, hello?” A strange woman’s voice makes me step back from Mara smoothly. She startles and runs both hands through her hair before reaching down to tug on the hem of her skirt, as if we’d been doing anything. As if that doesn’t make it even more obvious what we’re trying to hide.
Still, she’s adorable in her obviousness. Her whole face is bright red, and she clears her throat hard. “Um, thank you for the… explanation.” With that, Mara practically bolts from the room, all while I stand watching her go, torn between amusement and annoyance.
Amusement at Mara. Annoyance at this intrusion.
My cock is still rock fucking hard, but I shift my stance to conceal it better, and take a step until I’m behind the chair Mara was sitting in earlier, helping to conceal my desire and the exact nature of the scene this girl just interrupted.
Then I take in the new girl. I don’t recognize her. Blonde hair, done in a tight updo, with a tight pencil skirt and jacket to match. She’s cute, albeit not my type. Far too bubbly-looking, like the kind of girl who pays other people to do her hard work, rather than doing it herself.
I prefer women like Mara. Girls who get the job done themselves, who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
She’s still flushing too, but her blush isn’t nearly as cute as Mara’s. It lights up her whole face a bright, unpleasant red, and she pats her cheeks a couple times as if she’s trying to calm it down. “Um, sorry, for interrupting.” Another nervous gulp, as if she’s thinking again about what she saw.
“Did you need something?” I press, eager to distract her from the scene she walked in on. My hands grip the chair in front of me a little tighter.
Her gaze drops to my hands. Specifically my left one, and I notice her eyes widening with surprise. Now this, I can tell by her reaction, is a girl who reads tabloids. A girl who knows how unceremoniously I broke off my previous relationship. Not to mention how recently ago that happened.
She knows I should be single, for all intents and purposes. And that alone makes me repress another grin. I do so love knowing more about my own life than the gossip rags and tabloids do. Staying one step ahead of them, especially when it comes to relationships, is no small feat.
The girl recovers from her shock, somehow. “I’m new here. Bianca. I missed orientation. I’m sorry, the trains were running late. It won’t happen again, I swear. But they told me at the front desk that you’d still be in the room and I should just come in and introduce myself, so I—”
I hold up a hand. I don’t like excuses. They bore me. “It’s fine,” I tell her. “As long as it doesn’t happen again.” But I’m also not without compassion for a new girl on her first day. “Is there anything else?”
She hesitates. Glances down at my ring, yet again, like she can’t quite help herself. Like she’s double checking to see if she imagined things. “Uh, no, sir, except it’s just… I’m supposed to be one of your assistants, so if there’s anything you need, please let me know and I’m happy to help.”
I finger the ring that she won’t stop eying. Unlike my mother’s ring, which I gifted to Mara, this one Mara bought me herself, rather drunkenly, at a pawn shop on the Strip. I doubt very much that she remembers that point in the night. But she insisted on buying me a ring with her own money, in spite of my protests.