Page 56 of Choosing the right Man

“Look this place up.”

She pulls out her iPad and it doesn’t take long for us to figure out Paul’s telling the truth. If you exit out the back of the building there’s a mini town behind the complex.

I feel the smallest stirring of something, but not nearly as much as I should feel at knowing he isn’t cheating on me. I’m more scared about how much I don’t care. I’ve already let him go?

It isn’t until much later when I’m home alone that I realize all of those restaurants and coffee shops and meeting places Paul was telling me he was at are located on the bottom floor. Why had he needed to use the stairs? Maybe I want him to be having an affair so I don’t feel like such a horrible person. And maybe I’ve just wised up.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chloe

Paul and I continue living as roommates in our home. He’s gone more than he’s home, taking more and more trips for work. I continue my affair with Mason. I’m growing more confident as time passes. It seems we’ve settled into a routine. When I want to talk to Mason, I call him. I don’t hesitate anymore. It’s Saturday and I want to see him. I call.

He’s at a bar at the hotel where he has a room. I smile, hang up, and make my way to him. I decide to try something new, something exciting. Everything with Mason is exciting. I still have moments of guilt, but I also blame Paul for not seeing me, for not making me feel special. I guess it’s easier to blame him than admit I’m doing something wrong.

Work is good. I continue pushing myself. School is good, and I’m getting closer to earning my first degree. My house feels like an empty shell, though. The only thing in it that gives me joy is my artwork.

I’m still confused though, like I’m being pulled in two different directions. I feel an utter loyalty to the man I’ve been with for ten years, but I also want to break the promises we’ve made to each other and walk away.

I’m angry with Paul. I’m angry with myself. I’m frustrated with the world. I want to punish him and myself. I feel so many mixed emotions. I really wish I could live my life like my father, a much simpler life with no debt and no need for worldly things. I think that ship has sailed. His life is so much better, though, and he has zero stress in his life.

I arrive at the bar and find Mason sitting at a table in the corner, the lighting dim. Nice. I walk through the crowd, then take a seat at his table. His eyes light up when he sees me. I give him a sultry smile and bat my eyelashes at him. I wonder if I’m doing it right. I’m not used to flirting. His lips turn up in a brighter smile.

I reach out and run my fingernail down his arm. “I’m... Whisper,” I say in a husky purr. “This is my last night in town. I’m here for a conference.”

He looks confused for a moment, then his smile widens as he realizes the game I’m playing. He gives me an assessing look.

“Mason,” he finally says, wiping away his smile and giving me a calculating gaze as he transforms into the hunter that turns me on so damn much. My smile grows. Seems he doesn’t want to use a fake name. It’s okay, we can still play my little game. I’m playing a lot of games since meeting this man.

“Are you going to buy me a drink, Mason?” I ask.

“Do you ever have to buy your own drink?” he quickly replies.

I like playing this vixen. “I’ve never had to,” I tell him. I lean forward, giving him a nice view of the cleavage he loves so much.

He holds up his hand, and it doesn’t take long for the waitress to appear. He orders us each a drink. We don’t talk much as we listen to the music and conversations going on around us. I scoot my chair a little closer, and place my hand on his thigh.

“Are you staying here?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says as my fingers trace circles on his leg. He’s clearly growing hard. “Do you want to see my room?”

“I very much want to see your room,” I tell him. His eyes burn with hunger.

“Can I get the check?” he asks as the waitress passes by. I smile as my fingers brush over the bulge in his pants. He sucks in a breath.

He pays the check, we both rise, then I follow him from the bar. It doesn’t take us long to get to the elevator. We’re both breathing heavily as we ride up, then exit onto the top floor. We enter the room and hunger fills me.

The door hasn’t quite clicked shut when he reaches for me, pulling me into his arms. His lips smash against mine as he presses me against the wall. I moan as my fingernails run up the back of his neck and sink into his hair.

His lips taste like bourbon, and I’m lost in his touch. He tastes good and feels even better. I begin tugging at his clothes, and he pulls down the zipper on the back of my dress. I’m wearing nothing — nothing at all — beneath it. The dress falls to the floor, and I take a step back, standing before him in nothing but three-inch, black heels and thigh-high stockings. I begin to reach for my shoes.

“Leave them,” he tells me, his voice barely recognizable.

“Whatever you want,” I purr as I turn and head straight to the bed, letting my butt sway as I move. He walks over to the nightstand and pulls out a condom, tossing it on the comforter. I smile at him as I climb onto the bed and get on my knees. I turn my head and look at him as I lick my lips.

I’m panting as he strips off the rest of his clothes. He joins me on the bed and grabs the foil packet, quickly sheathing himself. I’m shaking as he runs his hand over my butt, and then between my legs. I’m wet and hot. He slaps my ass, making me moan. He then slaps my other cheek, making me even wetter. He positions himself behind me, and I close my eyes in anticipation.

He grabs my hips and thrusts inside me with such force I lose my breath. A moan escapes me as I squeeze his throbbing dick. He starts pumping as his fingers tighten on my hips. He continues pounding into me, sweat dripping down our bodies. I moan as an orgasm rips through me.

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