Page 29 of Two Wrongs
‘Two? Three?’ he asks again.
Two and a thumb playing her clit.I turn my head, though not really to answer, and find his mouth within kissing distance. His darkened eyes dance back and forth between my own, seeking something undefined. They drift to my lips and linger. Travel over my neck and between the valley of my breasts. His Adam’s apple moves as he swallows, and I sway towards him.
Stupid, stupid girl.
Chapter Fourteen
Ivy
Iswaymillimetres closer when Dylan laughs. It’s a throaty hum of laughter, not at all bitter like I know it should sound.
‘Tempting, as always, cutz.’ His fingers trail the skin of my bared back, tantalising each of my vertebrae and igniting every nerve ending. It’s all I can do to stop myself from turning, forcing him to feed me his next sentiments from his tongue. ‘But you’re not here to fuck me tonight.’
I swallow thickly, coming back to our reality. He’d called me cutz the first night we met because of my job. The day I left him, he called me it again but without affection. He referred to me cutting out his heart.
‘You remember the purpose of tonight? Your fucking me over? Our divorce? Your lies?’ His breath is warm and whisky-scented. Mixed with the smell of his cologne, it’s like a brush with the past. ‘Pay attention, Edera. We’re here to find you an easy fuck.’
‘What are the rules?’ I swallow thickly, my throat burning at his words.He’s not going to make me do this; I know he’s not.
‘A man,’ he replies, tapping his chin, ever the thespian. ‘A woman would be a step too far from your comfort zone, I think.’
‘Yeah because being penetrated while my husband looks on is much less frightening and way more fun.’ I almost stutter over my use ofhusband,the truth of the word holding too much hurt.
‘You’re not here to enjoy yourself. But who knows? Maybe you will. Maybe I will?’
‘I’m not watchingyou.’ He laughs then, like that’s the funniest thing he’s heard. As I turn my head from his amusement, I realise we’re being watched.
‘Him,’ I announce. ‘I’m doing him.’ What makes me say it, I don’t know, though my mouth seems pretty content to run. ‘He’s sort of cute.’
Is he cute? I don’t appear to be processing. I only recognise his is the first gaze mine connects with.Maybe I’m just calling Dylan’s bluff?
I make to move toward him when Dylan catches my arm.
‘That’s not how this works,’ he growls, his mirth having dissolved into distaste. I curl my fingers around his in an attempt to pry them from where they pinch. ‘You don’t get—’
‘Hey,’ a third voice drawls, interrupting. Sandy hair and a deep tan suggested he works outdoors most of the day. He’s good looking, in that ordinary way. Sort of safe. His gaze falls to where Dylan’s fingers curl around my arm. ‘Angry roleplay?’ He reaches to scratch the back of his neck, maybe realising belatedly that Dylan’s anger is anything but make-believe.
‘You got us,’ I respond. ‘He likes to pretend he’s against me playing a slut.’ My words are bright and over enthused. I’d be a rubbish actress. Meanwhile, Dylan’s mouth remains a grim line, and his fingers continue to pinch my upper arm.
‘I’m not into threesomes,’ Sandy-haired man says. ‘My kinks are pretty straight.’
Straight kinks; a bit of an oxymoron. While I’m just a plain old moron.My jaw aches from smiling, so I know I must look a little like one.Jesus Christ—this conversation could’ve been lifted from our book club. If he tells me he’s a billionaire CEO, I’ll die.I look down at his shoes; leather Keds.So not CEO material.He looks more like a tech geek, especially as I catch a glimpse of his watch.Expensive and complicated.
I attempt a smile, though it’s the short-lived kind. I fix it firmer on my face and tilt my head, my gaze solely for Dylan.
‘Straight kinks work. We’re not interested in, erm, that sort of stuff, and he’s just here to watch.’
‘What, no golden showers? No ass fucking,’ Dylan snarls—that’s what it sounded like, anyway.A snarl from the pit of his gut.And he looks seriously pissed. I unfurl my fingers from Dylan’s pinching ones, tearing my gaze from his.
‘Where are my manners?’ I hold out my hand.You still bring manners to a sex club, right?‘I haven’t introduced myself. I’m—’
‘My wife.’ I’d always thought growls were something heated, but somehow, Dylan manages to lace his with ice. ‘That is all you need to know, and we sure as fuck don’t need to know your name.’
‘Cool, man,’ Sandy responds, his tone chilled but not at all cold. ‘I know you from someplace?’
‘No.’
‘You look real familiar.’
