Page 21 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
“You can’t be serious.”
Raking a hand through my hair, I turn my back to her. It’s no wonder she doesn’t believe me. This has never happened to me before. Sex used to mean nothing but some fun and an orgasm. Except…I’m not sure that’s true anymore.
I feel her hand curl over my shoulder, but I shake her off and walk toward the door, putting my hand on the doorknob so she gets the message that it’s time to go.
“I’m leaving,” I tell her firmly.
“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’ve got the itch for that little spy you put a ring on.”
I whirl around to growl, “That’s enough.”
Anger fills the hollow inside me that doesn’t know what to think, or why this is happening to me.
“Really? You think you’re going to do the whole monogamous, two-point-five kids thing with her? What happened to the guy who could have a threesome and come back for more half an hour later? This isn’t you. You’re getting soft.” She pointedly looks at my crotch. “Real soft.”
My nostrils flare, my face going hot. But this isn’t completely on her. I was the one who pulled her in here in the first place, intending to fuck us both senseless, and now I’m backing out. Knowing Jessica, she’s less upset about the sex than she is about the chance she thought she had to get back into my inner circle, with the never-dying hope she’ll be the next Mrs. Bellanti.
“I’m going back to the party,” I announce.
“Oh, me, too,” she says with icy nonchalance. “I can’t wait to tell the girls all about this fun experience.”
“You do that, and I’ll be sure to let Dante know about the three grand you ‘borrowed’ from petty cash for your little trip to Vegas and then never put back. Go to the party, have a drink. Find an unsuspecting asshole to fuck tonight. It’s all good, Jess.”
Now her face turns red, her nostrils flaring as she contemplates me. In typical Jessica fashion, she tosses back her hair and plasters on a cold smile. “Have fun with your wife.”
She storms past me and out the door, slamming it behind her. Frankly acting a lot like I did when I ran away from Karina not twenty minutes ago. I slump onto one of the cushy reception chairs with a hard sigh. So, this is what’s become of me? Impotent and confused? What’s next? Male pattern baldness?
Fuck.
Despite what I told Jessica, I’m not going back to the event. I left Karina in the care of Dante and Frankie, with the full expectation that I’d be occupied for the rest of the evening. I might not be screwing anyone now, but I have no intention of returning to my guests. There’s only one other thing that could possibly make me feel better at this point. Driving. Fast.
Palming my keys inside my jacket pocket, I leave the office, set the lock, and head to the garages that house my favorite cars. I don’t bother turning on my headlights as I roll slowly down the driveway and then out onto the road.
A few turns later and I’m on the freeway. It’s quiet this late at night, which is great for what I have in mind. Shifting, I hit the gas and fly down the fast lane. I might as well be on a straightaway without competition, as sparse as the traffic is. So I go faster…eight, ninety, then even faster, until I’m blowing past everyone else on the road.
Traffic signs zip by in a blur, lights blending together in a bright smear. Soon my mind goes blissfully blank, focusing on nothing but the asphalt under my tires, the euphoria of speed, the purr of the engine. I’m in control out here, completely in my element, flying toward my destiny…or else certain death. Who knows. My heart pounds, my skin prickling with goosebumps, my blood jacking with sweet adrenaline as the miles disappear in my rearview.
Jesus, I love this feeling. It’s like the first time I met Karina…
I’ll never forget that night. I was high on the rush of knowing I had a big race the next day, anticipation and excitement thrumming through me, and it all compounded when I laid eyes on her. The feeling hasn’t gone away since. Not really. It goes dormant, maybe, but it always comes back to life the second I see her again. When I feel her, taste her. See her eyes light up.
My stomach drops as I’m suddenly hit with the unimaginable, batshit crazy, completely unlike me realization that the worst thing possible has happened:
I love my wife.
Pressing lightly on the brake, I grip the wheel tighter and incrementally slow the car.
It’s true…I love her.
It’s why I couldn’t fuck Jessica. It’s why I haven’t slept through the night since I moved into one of the guest rooms and gave up my bedroom to her. It’s why I’ll stand up to my own family to protect her. Why I’ll lie to keep her safe if I have to. I don’t want anyone else. Ever.
I have to get over this.
Loving Karina is a straight path to getting us both killed. We’re in the middle of a war with her family, and my fucking heart wants to play this game? Nothing good will come of letting my emotions lead the way. It can only lead to pain and loss and destruction.
This has to be temporary. It’s nothing but chemicals. Hormones. Temporary insanity. It’s gotta be like the flu, right? You feel the symptoms for a while. They might screw with your plans, make life a little harder, knock you on your ass. But eventually, after it takes its course, it’s over. You brush yourself off and get on with things as normal.
I just need to avoid her, then. Lock my heart down. Keep myself closed off and wait this nonsense out. Soon enough, everything will be fine.
She can’t ever know that I love her. I simply can’t allow it. There’s no guarantee either of us would survive it.
