Page 26 of The Seven Month Itch
I run a hand through my hair. “Justice, I know how this looks, but I promise it’s not like that. My business became my life after we separated. Madison is someone I know who’s a client. That’s it. I’ve never crossed the line professionally and would never.”
In hindsight, it was a bonehead move for me to train Madison. I wasn’t thinking when I agreed to do it. It’s not like I see her every week. Maybe once a month, but nothing too frequent.
Her laugh mimics the Joker about to go on a killing spree when she pierces me with her gaze. “You know what, Terrence? I watched you fill your calendar with work and said nothing. I watched you smile your butt off with other women on business trips and said nothing. The only thing I believe is you’ll hurt me if I let you, and that stops now.” She grabs her stuff. “Enjoy the retreat.”
My teeth and fists clench. “Fuck!” I didn’t think things could get any worse.
Chapter 12
Justice
Itold myself I wouldn’t let him get to me, and what did I do? Run off like some schoolgirl pissed her crush didn’t ask her to prom.
The hall distorts into a mix of shapes from the tears that are desperate to fall again. I can’t reach my room fast enough.
How stupid do I have to be to allow myself to get hurtagain? I should’ve left the moment I noticed Terrence. We keep finding each other, and it needs to stop before I lose what’s left of my sanity on this trip. I will commit myself if I have any more thoughts about that man.
I make a beeline for the shower when I get back to my room. It’s almost eight o’clock, which means Emma isn’t up, and I don’t want to wake her.
Liar.
Jerk-off.
Butthole.
I should be more mature than this. But right now, I’m stabby.Reallystabby.
Hot water batters my skin. It comforts the tension in my muscles but not the pain in my heart. Terrence has been spending time with Madison since our separation.BeforeI found out they’re both here. At a singles’ retreat.
My knees buckle at the weight of the betrayal. I steady my hands on the white subway-tiled wall for support and lean under the spray.
Thoughts of Terrence’s mouth on mine force my eyes closed. His possessive touch made it impossible for me to control my response to his hands navigating my body. It was over the second he took off his shirt and put that chest and those abs on display like the caramel Adonis he is.
He had me under his spell, filled with the sudden desire to run my tongue from the base of his stomach to the rod between his thighs. Had we not heard someone in the hall, there’s a good chance we would still be inside that studio. Planking on each other’s private parts.
My teeth sink into my lip at the way he commanded my body. The man is a specialist who knows every spot and every way to make me erupt. Terrence might be easygoing, but in the bedroom—or inside some random studio, in this case—I’m at his mercy. Pleasure builds between my thighs as moans crash from wall to wall. My hand finds its way to my center and strokes my clit with a greedy force.
God help me with this man and his sexual powers.
I say a silent curse, finish my shower, and head back to bed. If Terrence thinks he can come here to meet whoever and do whatever with other women—anduse me in the process—he’s in for a rude awakening.
The rest of the morning was a blur. I ate, went snowmobiling with Emma, ate some more, and tried my hardest not to think about my ex who shall remain nameless. It’s now day number three, and I refuse to spend the rest of my time in deep thought about…him.
Half the day comes and goes in the spa.
A deep-tissue massage here.
A HydraFacial there.
A wax downstairs no one will see.
After an hour in the salt cave, my mind is at peace. If Heaven is like this, take me now. I’m on my way to the lockers after four savory hours of self-care. There’s a whiskey tasting tonight that has my name on it.
I pad across the marble floor in monogrammed slippers that are the coziest spa apparel to ever grace my skin. Second to this fluffy robe that caresses me like a cloud. The hotel will get these back over my dead, pampered body.
Signs for the locker rooms lead me past a sauna and a room that sounds like it needs a plumber. I’ve heard of those spa situations where water pours from the ceiling but have never been inside of one. Should I? The answer comes with a pull on the handle. It’s unlocked. Why not?
The only light source inside is what I assume are flameless candles around the perimeter. It’s hard to make out what’s in here with such soft lighting. There’s a few chairs, loungers, and a naked man.
