Page 6 of Duress
Low, so only I can hear, he whispers into my ear, “God, what I wouldn’t give to take this for a ride. You should call me sometime when he’s working late. I’ll take care of you.”
Bile rises in my throat, and I finally come to my senses enough to move out of his grasp and escape to the bathroom. I glance over my shoulder as I beat a hasty retreat, and see him checking out my ass shamelessly, like he isn’t even trying to hide his interest from my husband. What the fuck? I spend the next ten minutes in the bathroom, hiding in a stall, trying to calm my racing heart, hoping Shane and Bob are gone when I come back. I can’t bring myself to get within groping distance of that pervert again.
My phone buzzes in my hand. A text notification from Bryce pops up on my screen.
Bryce
Where are you? I paid the check. Time to go.
I let out a relieved breath and step out of the stall. After washing my hands, I make my way back out into the dining room and find Bryce waiting by the door, tapping his foot with an impatient, irritated look on his face. Great. I made him wait to leave for five minutes after he ignored me for the last hour, and now I’m the bad guy.
Bryce’s jaw is clenched; a slight tick is all the indication I get that he’s irritated with me as we drive home. I debate if I should mention what Steve did. Would Bryce even believe me? I’m not entirely sure he would.
When we arrive home, I get out of the car without a word and head straight to our bedroom. All I want to do is hop in the shower and wash off the slimy feeling of Shane/Steve’s touch. I don’t trust myself not to start a fight. Not with this much alcohol coursing through me. As I get to our bedroom, Bryce catches up to me, grabbing me by the arm. He spins me, backing me into the wall so he can cage me in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is cold, harsh, but there is a fire in his eyes. He’s looking at me like he can’t decide if he wants to fuck me or throttle me.
“I’m going to take a shower. Do you mind?”
“I do mind. I told you I was going to take this dress off of you.” His grip on my arm tightens, causing me to wince. When I try to look away, his other hand comes up and grips my neck, directing my gaze back up to meet his.
Annoyance at being manhandled again surges through me. “Get your hands off me. Do you really think I want to fuck after you spent most of our date ignoring me? After your friend fucking groped my ass and said he wanted to take me for a ride? You’re delusional.” Oops, the alcohol has loosened my tongue. So much for not starting a fight.
“Whosaid they want to take you for a ride?’ Bryce’s grip tightens to the point of pain, and I let out a yelp.
“Steve! Shane! Whatever the fuck his name is!”
“Shane said he wants to take you for a ride?” Bryce’s voice drops to a low, scary tone.
When I look him in the eyes there is a manic gleam to them. I can’t tell if he’s angry or excited or turned on.
“I’ll have to keep that in mind. Too bad for him, I’m the only one who gets to fuck this pussy.” The arm that was holding my throat drops, grabbing my dress and hiking it up on one swift move. Bryce grips my sex, slipping one finger past the edge of my thong into my wet pussy. I’m disgusted with myself for being turned on by his caveman behavior, but my wetness is all the permission he needs. A feral grin splits his face right before he yanks my dress off and tosses me to the bed.
I watch, chest heaving, as he stalks across the room, unbuttoning his pants, freeing his cock. It’s been so long since Bryce has shown any interest in me that my mind can’t decide if I should be excited by the inferno burning between us, or angry at how he’s treating me. Bryce crawls onto the bed nude, his erection jutting out in front of him. He is still as gorgeous as he ever was. I lick my lips as he settles over me, the heat from his body scorching mine.
Hiking up one of my legs over his shoulder, Bryce notches the head of his cock at my entrance.
“This pussy is mine. I am the only one who gets to fuck it. No one touches it without my say-so.” He punctuates his statement by thrusting, sheathing his full length inside me. My eyes fly open at the intrusion, and it takes a second for his words to register in my brain. No one touches me without his say-so.
The implication of those words sends dread coursing through me as he fucks me senseless.
CHAPTER 6
EVERLY
It’s Thursday evening, a little past six. Dinner is rapidly cooling on the table. Bryce is nowhere to be seen. He left for work early this morning, without even saying goodbye. My texts to him have gone unanswered. I pick at the pasta on my plate, my appetite nonexistent. The comment he made last night about no one else fucking me unless he says they can keeps running through my mind. He seemed to get some sort of sick satisfaction out of knowing Shane wants to fuck his wife, and I’m not entirely sure he won’t use that to his advantage at some point to make a deal with Shane. Surely he wouldn’t…would he?
As time creeps by, food getting colder by the minute, I find myself staring at my phone, rereading Dane’s invitation to game night, debating if I should go. Dinner is made, but it isn’t my fault Bryce isn’t here to eat it while it’s warm. The frustration I feel at his lack of communication and his disrespect of my time courses through my veins. Why should I sit here, waiting for him to get home, like adoting housewife? I’m not a prisoner. What is he going to do? Yell? Be angry? Well, I’m already pissed, so that doesn’t matter.
I take his plate, cover it with foil, and stick it in the fridge, leaving a note for him to look for it in there. I don’t leave any details about where I’m going or what I’m doing. Let him worry for a change. I throw on my favorite denim jacket, grab my purse, steal an overpriced bottle of wine from the wine fridge so I don’t show up empty handed, and head out the door, ready to live my life for me, if just for tonight.
Pullingup to 615 Bloom Street, I find a cute, craftsman-style house with a red front door and a porch lined with beautiful hydrangea bushes, still clinging to their color in the late summer season. It’s been getting cooler the last few days, and soon the leaves will change and the flowers will die. I sit in my car, taking a moment to calm my nerves. It’s been so long since I’ve gone out to meet new people with the intention of making friends. What if they don’t like me? What if I’m too out of touch after spending so much time with Bryce and his social circle? Will I seem like a snob to them the same way Veronica seems like one to me? Fuck it—that’s what the wine is for, right?
I march up to the front door and knock before I let my doubts get the better of me and convince me to turn around and go home. I hear boisterous laughter coming from inside the house. It’s after seven, so the game nighthas probably already started. Biting my lower lip, I take a step back, reconsidering my decision. But before I can make my escape, the door opens, revealing a handsome young Black man with a dazzling smile. My mind temporarily glitches as I take in his appearance, from his neatly braided corn rows to the dimples in his cheeks and the gorgeous brown eyes that seem almost bottomless. His sepia brown skin still seems to glow from the joy radiating off him. I find myself immediately at ease with him.
“Hey, can I help you?” His tone is curious, but not unfriendly. His voice is rich like honey, and I wonder if he works in radio or perhaps sings.
“Um, yeah, is Dane here? He…he invited me to join him for a game night at this address? I’m Everly, his sister-in-law.” I stick out my hand in offering, and my cheeks heat as the man in front of me holds back a chuckle.
