Page 19 of Forbidden War (Forbidden 2)
“You threatened to fuck other people! That tends to not make women reasonable.”
He moves back a bit, giving himself more room. It’s so hot, so erotic watching him. I’ve never imagined something like this. The scent of heat and desire mixed with the sweetness of wine. His gorgeous cock, engorged and perfect and so ready. His strong face, tight with pleasure.
“Marco.”
Plenty of women showed blatant interest in him tonight, some of them right in front of me. It’s not like he’ll have any trouble finding company for his bed. It’s possible he’s even been with some of those women already. Or all of them. How many of his past lovers were here this evening? For all I know, it was a fucking buffet of women for Marco. He could take his pick.
“Give me your hand,” he says.
Marco reaches for me, and I don’t stop him. He brings my palm to his shaft and I wrap my fingers around him on instinct. He’s hot and smooth, the hard length slick and wet from his precum. Marco jerks into my hand, pumping his hips, but I don’t let go. I can’t. I want to, but more than that, I don’t want to.
He joins me, wrapping his hand around mine so we’re both jerking him off, his face tensing, his moans pitching deeper, as if he’s getting close.
“No,” I say.
I pull my hand back like I’ve been burned and stumble away from him.
He watches me, still breathing hard, but he isn’t touching himself anymore. I’m frozen in place, torn between running as fast and as far as I can, and staying here to watch him finish. But he doesn’t. A moment later, he tucks himself back in and fixes his pants.
“Guess it will be Jessica, then.”
He pounds a fist on the desk and storms out, slamming the door behind him.
My first reaction is to go after him. Follow him through the crowd outside and see which woman he goes to, but I’m not sure how to get through this building in the dark. Not only that, but I’m afraid to see who he chooses. Maybe it’s better not to know. That way some part of me can still hold on to the hope that he might not really be taking someone else to bed.
It’s a lie I’m willing to tell myself until I have proof otherwise.
Normally in a situation like this, I’d lock that office door and cry in here alone, lost in my own misery. But my eyes stay dry. I know that I brought this on myself, but I also know that Marco is being a complete asshole. For the moment, my anger is stronger than my pain.
Leaving the office, I feel my way along the wall until I flick a switch that casts light from a bank of fluorescents overhead, illuminating the interior of the building. The exit door I find brings me outside to the opposite side of the event space, and I’m finally able to make my way back to the crowd. Searching the remaining faces for anyone familiar, I spy Frankie resting in a chair at the edge of all the good cheer and general hubbub.
“Karina, hey!” she says, waving me over. “Are you enjoying yourself? Marco asked for Dante and me to walk you home when you’re ready. You just let me know.”
My heart sinks. “Marco left already?”
Her face skews. “Didn’t he…tell you goodbye?”
“Must have been in a hurry,” I say lamely.
Plastering on my trademark fake smile, I sink into the seat next to her and make polite small talk about the event, even though my heart is cracking into a million pieces. He couldn’t even help me out of the building and return me to the party. He had to chase his desires at my expense. I feel as if I’ve been gutted.
My husband just ran off with another woman.
And I can’t even fall apart until I get home.
