Page 25 of Release Me

“So,” Talia says as she turns assessing eyes on me. “Who’s the lady lucky enough to get flowers from Sebastian Adler?”

Luca is the first to pipe up. “Nadia. Sebastian’s new restaurant manager.”

Talia cocks a brow at me. “Sending flowers to your employees, Seb. That’s definitely not your style.”

I push out a harsh breath. “She’s new in town. I was trying to be nice.”

Most people wouldn’t be at all interested to hear someone they know talk about trying their hand at kindness, but Talia isn’t most people. She has intimate knowledge of who I am, of how I do business and interact with my employees. Luca, Andreas and Zoe might think they know, but Talia is the only one who has a real idea. On more than one occasion she’s encouraged me to get to know the people who work for me past their job titles and skills, but I’ve always resisted. Getting to know an employee on a personal level is how I ended up with a wife I only talked about business with.

“Nice,” Talia repeats, her lips curling around the word.

“Leave it alone, Tal.”

The note of warning in my tone is enough to send a hush over the entire table, and after a moment of awkward silence, the conversation turns to something that doesn’t make the vein in the center of my forehead throb with irritation.

The reprieve is brief, only lasting as long as Talia and I are around my parents and siblings. The moment we walk into the house we shared when we were married, Talia’s hands go to my belt, and the questions begin.

“Are you dating her?” She asks, her brows knit in concentration as she tries to navigate the button on my jeans with the talons she calls nails.

“Talia.”

My harsh tone doesn’t deter her the way it did when we were in front of my family. Her deep brown eyes mock me for even trying to deploy it.

“I don’t care, Sebastian. I just want to make sure I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes by sitting on your dick.” Her lips are on my neck now, and we’re walking backwards, stumbling towards the couch in the center of the open-concept living area. No one has been in this house since the last time she visited New Haven, but everything is in pristine condition courtesy of the cleaners I pay to come out every month.

We land in a heap on the couch with me and my back and Talia on top of me. She straddles my hips, pulling her shirt off to reveal the perfect tear drops that are her breasts. We’ve been doing this so long it takes no time for my body to respond to hers. In seconds, my dick is hard, straining against the seam of my half-opened jeans. Talia smiles and grinds down on me.

“If you’re in a relationship, he certainly hasn’t gotten the memo.”

“I’m not in a relationship.”

Nadia and I aren’t even friends. We’re barely colleagues. We’re nothing to each other. Less than nothing, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to be something.

Talia slides down my body, dropping down on her knees in front of me. Her hands are back at my waist, working to free my erection from my jeans. She doesn’t speak until my dick springs free. “But you want to be, right? You sent her flowers, so you must like her.”

If it were any other woman, I’d be confused, maybe even a little outraged, that they were asking about my relationship goals with someone else while literally staring at my dick, but this is Talia we’re talking about, and nothing, least of all her blasé attitude about sex, surprises me anymore.

I thought it was cool at first, to have a wife who didn’t care if another woman caught my eye, who encouraged me to explore my desires even if it took me outside of her bed. I never did because I was determined to have a marriage that looked like what my parents had. I wanted a good partner. Someone who wouldn’t bat an eye when I put everything I had into my business and gave them whatever was left after that. Talia was all of that and more. She was as passionate about my business as I was, pouring everything into building Cerros as a brand and taking the resort chain international. We were a good team, equally matched in all the ways I thought mattered. Putting her on projects I didn’t have the bandwidth to handle was a no-brainer because she was essentially me in female form. Where we differed, though, was in the way we approached our marriage.

Meaning, I was being faithful, and she wasn’t.

The revelation of her affairs didn’t happen like they do in the movies. There was no big production, no emotional underscore that spelled heartbreak and despair. Just a deadpan confession and a question about why I wasn’t using her extended stays in Antigua or Mexico as opportunities to sleep around. Apparently, she’d thought my lack of rebuttal to her persistent encouragement to fuck other women meant I was down to open our marriage. I was stunned when I found out because we’d never had such a glaring misunderstanding before, but I wasn’t hurt. The idea of her in bed with other people didn’t bother me in the slightest. That was when I realized we were better off as friends, business partners and occasional sexual partners.

Talia lowers her mouth to my tip, and the warmth of her breath forces my brain back into the moment.

“I’m not talking about Nadia with you.”

“Refusing to talk about her with me, just means there is something to talk about.” She swipes her tongue along my shaft, and I know the instant her flesh connects with mine that I can’t do this with her today. My hands go to her shoulders, and she freezes. There’s no hurt in her eyes when they meet mine, only intrigue, which kind of makes me wish I did want to fuck her, if only to take both of our minds off of Nadia.

Talia stands, and I do too. She slips on her shirt while I button my jeans and hope that us both being clothed will make this whole situation less awkward. It doesn’t.

“Damn.” Talia laughs, putting her hands on her hips “You really like this woman.”

I shake my head. “She works for me. It’s not like that.”

“You won’t even fuck me, Sebastian. It’s like something.”

“Maybe I’m just not in the mood. You weren’t supposed to get in until tomorrow.”

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