Page 57 of Choices

"Very good." More champagne, more licks, but fuck I need more! He's too far from me, my panties are too much of a barrier.

I'm spun up, desperate for him, fevered. I reach down myself to take off my panties.

"Child support and spousal support is easy enough to calculate since we know his income and he's at fault." Matty laughs to himself. "Not that you need it."

I think that's a strange thing to say, but all I can concentrate on is him putting something inside of me. This absolute fucking lunatic has been edging me while discussing child support!

I practically rip my panties off of my body and push his face away from my pussy.

"I swear to fucking God, Matthew, if you don't put something in me right now..." I growl. I sound fucking possessed.

This fucker simply puts the champagnebottle on the floor next to him, pierces me with two thick fingers, and sucks the life out of my clit.

I'm a breath away from coming, so I grip his hair again, screaming my encouragement. My back arches, my toes curl...

"What about custody agreement? We can arrange any flavor of custody for your kids...Sole, shared, whatever you want, pretty girl."

Oh.

Fuck.

I've lost my orgasm now. Matty seems to sense it and he leans back so he can look me in the face.

I know my face has fallen. I don't want to lose half of my time with my kids. And honestly, I don't think Alan knows how to be a parent. Or has any interest in being a dad. He certainly hasn't shown any. He was excited when we announced our pregnancies and births, but Viv was barely an hour old before he was back with his mistress.

He likes the social leverage of children - as long as they're attractive and well-behaved.

I don't want him in their lives, but at the same time, he's their father. For better or worse. Can I really play God and decide how much and what kind of interaction they have with their own father?

"Can..." my voice cracks. "Can we do something like...supervised visitation? So like...someone can always be there to interfere if he's an asshole to them...but not cut off full custody?" My chest shivers with repressed emotion. I can't imagine all three kids with Alan and Kathleen, over at her apartment. Or maybe he'll buy a house for them? I can't imagine Kathleen wants to take care of my three kids. She's twenty three for Christ's sake. And I know Alan doesn't know what stuffy Viv needs to sleep, or that Jack's scaredof clowns. And the idea of the shitty things and slurs he would say to them when I wasn't there to intervene sends a visceral shiver through my bones.

Matty must sense the emotional turmoil I'm going through. I'm spread out on his desk, half-naked, in the middle of the day, for all of DC to see, but I've never felt more exposed, laying out the emotional toll this divorce is having on me with my lawyer.

Matty leans over me, hands on either side of my head, caging me in so that it's only him and me.

"Pretty girl. We can have whatever flavor of visitation you want. You're in control here. What do you want?"

Rico's words from yesterday echo in my ear and reverberate in my head. Take back control. Okay, yes. I'm divorcing my shitty husband, and getting that toxic shit out of me and my kids' lives. I'll offer him surpervized visitation - either me or my parents - but no custody. If he really wants to be a part of their life and shows me he can be trusted with them, we can revisit custody. But as of right now, I don't trust him with our kids' well-being.

I lock Matty's eyes, bite my lip, and nod.

He shoves three fingers inside me and curls them to hit my g-stop with such fucking precision I'm at 95% again.

"Good girl," he growls into my ear. I ride his hand, shamelessly chasing my release. He leans down and bites the shit out of one of my nipples and I fall completely apart on top of his desk, screaming, clawing, arching.

He gently pumps his fingers in and out of me while I climax and come back down again. I collapse against his desk, fucking jelly.

I'mfaintly aware of him going to an attached bathroom and washing up. I'm even more vaguely aware of him sitting in his leather office chair and writing some notes on the papers. I'm sure I'm an inconvenience and in his way, but fuck if I can't find it in me to care.

Suddenly, papers appear in my face. "This is a contract between you and the company for the book club cut of the club." He says, pen pointing at a line that I think he wants me to sign?

Was this his plan? Make me come-drunk so I agree to anything?

"I'll have to have my lawyer look it over," I comment, smirking.

He slaps my still bare ass in punishment. "Smartass." He mumbles.

My senses are coming back to me. And while that head and orgasm were amazing, something's still hitting my red flag radar.

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