Page 28 of Yours Suddenly

I should have known he got home from the dark cloud that suddenly permeated the grand foyer. He looks me up and down curiously in my short tennis skirt and tight tank top. Desire flares in his eyes. He's dressed in all black again. A sharp contrast to the pale purple of my outfit.

“You look great,” he says softly.

I roll my eyes and walk past him up the stairs. “Fun’s over,” I call out to the kids, and they make disappointed sounds, but the next second they’re already chasing each other, already moving on.

Perhaps that's what I should do, too.

Move on from the marriage I thought I was going to have. Embrace this slight indifference I feel.

But it's hard, especially for someone like me, who wants to beloved, who wants to be held, who wants to be kissed. Who needs someone to make time for me.

I'm afraid I couldn'tnotcare, even if I tried.

Even now, as I ascend the stairs, I make sure to move my ass in a way that'll get his cock hard. Punishing him by wearing tight dresses and cleavage-showing tops ever since we came back from Oregon has been my form of vengeance.

I haven't let him touch me since. I haven't let him kiss me.

I feel him follow behind me as I rise up the stairs slowly and walk down the landing. A thrill grows in me, and I feel like I'm being chased. I enter our bedroom, and a few moments later he comes in.

“Please have dinner with me tonight,” he says.

“No.” I take off my top and let it fall to the floor. The short skirt follows. I move my sweaty, butt-naked self to the bathroom and I hear him follow.

When I glance at him, I see him dragging his hand over his mouth. His jaw twitches.

“Please, baby.”

“No.”

I enter the shower and turn the water on. There's no glass or curtain or anything so he just watches me as I slather my body in lavender foam. I make sure to take time on my breasts, his number one weakness. The fluttering in his jaw gets more intense.

Good.

“Staring is rude,” I say.

“You're staring at me,” he says.

“Glancing your way every five seconds doesn't count as staring. Whatyouare doing right now is staring. At me.”

“Can you blame me?” he drawls. “A fucking naked beautiful woman is showering in front of me.” He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, getting slightly restless.

“I have a solution to that,” I say sweetly. “You can just walk out of the bathroom.”

“Not until you say yes to dinner.”

“Why should I say yes?” I cock my head to the side. “Why? So you can just cancel? At this point, you're married to the men you do business with.”

A small smile dances on his lips. I hate that I always feel pleased with myself whenever I make him smirk. “Here's me telling you that I have split with one of these businessmen you're apparently so jealous of. Forever. Andnot amicably.”

I don't know what that means. It could literally mean anything.

“Why?” I say.

“Well,” he says, stepping forward. My heart rate quickens and instinctively I take a step back, “they don't have a great pair of tits like you do. I don't think married life would work between me and them without those.”

“Well,” I say, my voice coming out a little strangled, liquid pooling involuntarily in my core, “Ihave a great pair of tits, and our marriage is in shambles. So what now, honey?”

“So let me fix it bytaking you out to dinner.”

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