Page 34 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
“I remembered you once,” I said. “I also remember that you said you wanted to end it, so we did. Pity it didn’t go through at the time, but you know that’s a niggle and nothing more. My lawyer said you’d been served with the notice, and that we’d have a court date within the next few months. So I have to ask myself—why am I here?”
My first instincts had been right. They usually were.
She set her tea down, curled her legs up under her in the black armchair, set at right angles to the couch where I sat, ran a hand through her hair and let it fall, and said, “That’s a good question, isn’t it? Why did you come, Hemi? If it’s over?”
She’d always had that faint smile, had taunted me with it, daring me to wipe it off her face. She’d got under my skin every time, and had loved doing it.
My hands wanted to fist, and I used every bit of training I had to control them. I breathed, felt the oxygen running through my body like a calming drug, and said, “You said you wanted to see me, that that would make it easier for you, at least that’s what I heard. If you have something to say, say it now. If you need closure, here I am. But we’re closed. We’re done.”
She studied me for a long moment, and she wasn’t smiling now. “Maybe,” she said slowly, “I just wanted to see what you’ve become. I’ve read about you, of course, and I’ve been proud to see it, but it’s different, isn’t it, knowing you’re still my husband.”
She wanted me to ask her about her own life. I could feel it, and I didn’t care. I’d driven an hour and a half for this? And Hope…she’d kissed me goodbye, had said, “Good luck,” had smiled at me, kissed me again, said, “I’ll see you later,” and gone back into the house.
Trusting me.
Anika asked, “What made you check on the divorce after all this time? How did you find out?”
I looked at her and didn’t answer, and she said, “There’s somebody else, isn’t there? Somebody special. Is that why you’re back in the homeland? To marry her in front of your whanau?”
Something in her had shifted, reminding me of the girl I’d loved. The girl who knew about my family, as I knew about hers. The girl whose dad wasn’t any better than mine, so there was nothing to be ashamed of. The girl who knew all my secrets.
“Yeh,” I said. “There is, and I am. How about you?”
She dropped her gaze, took another sip of tea, and said, “I never thought I wanted to get married again, and maybe now I’m remembering why. I have a fella, but you know, after you…maybe one man isn’t enough. Or maybe you and I just aren’t much chop at settling down. Maybe we need too much…stimulation for that. And there aren’t many people who understand us, are there? So many men who want me, who want to try, but nobody who can give it to me like I need it, not the way you could. And I’m guessing you’re the same.” She set her tea down, then sat up again, shoved a hand into her mass of hair, and lay back against the chair. Making me remember, as perhaps she’d intended, how she’d liked me to hold her by her hair, to pull her along by it, to throw her down by it. How far she’d let me go, and the way I’d craved it, stronger than any drug.
“I’m not that man anymore,” I said.
“Ah,” she breathed. “That’s a pity. Nothing wrong with that man. Nothing I didn’t want. She won’t let you do it all, I’m thinking, but you love her anyway. Or you hope you do.”
“No. I love her, period.” It was a bad idea to talk about Hope, and I knew it. “Why am I here?” I asked her again. “What is it you want?”
If I’d expected to disconcert her, I failed. She smiled, a slow, seductive thing, and shifted herself in a way that had me staring at her lush, still-beautiful breasts despite myself. Then she uncoiled herself from the chair, took the two steps over to me, and settled herself over my lap, a knee on either side of me, exactly as Hope had done a few days earlier.
I started to stand up, but she had both hands in my hair, was stroking them over me, and was talking again, her voice smooth and strong as whisky, but rough-edged as the tongue of a cat. The spicy oriental notes of her perfume filled my head, and her long legs covered me, reminding me despite every better intention of how they’d felt when I’d had my hands on the backs of her thighs, shoving her up high. And the way she’d moaned when I’d done it. The way she’d begged me to do it harder. And then, one night after a flaming row, the way I’d done it differently.
“She won’t let you do it all, will she?” she said into my ear, as if she knew exactly what I was remembering. As if she were the witch she’d always been. She bit down on the lobe, hard enough that she’d be leaving a mark, and I held myself rigid and didn’t flinch. “You’re still my husband, Hemi, and I know you’re angry as fire about that. You’re so angry at me, aren’t you, for still being here, for getting in your way? You didn’t come over tonight because I needed closure. You came because you did. You’re a selfish bastard, in the end. You’re here for what you want. You’re here to win. We both know it. So go on. Take your win.”
My head was spinning, the rage rising, and the unwanted, dangerous desire with it. She was pushing me, the way she always had. Daring me.
“Will she let you hurt her?” she purred in my ear. “Does she love it the way I did? I’m thinking not, and you’ve got so much need bottled up in you, haven’t you? I can feel it. Bet she won’t give you her sweet little virgin arse, either, because she’s scared that you’re too big, and it’ll hurt, and she’s not woman enough for that. And I know you’re wishing you were man enough to go on and take it anyway. Remember the first time you did it to me? Remember how I screamed?”
This was wrong. I had to leave.
“Oh, I see how it is,” she said. “You don’t want to cheat on her. Poor Hemi.” She stroked my hair, and then she was murmuring in my ear again. “My fella—Julian. He knows you’re coming by. He’s got his own ideas about that, and he’d be rapt to show me exactly how he feels. You can’t bring yourself to do it to me? You know you’d love to watch while he does. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t, because I know better. And then, after you’ve watched him give me the flogging I know you want to see me get right now, and he’s got me on my hands and knees and is giving it to me hard, so I can’t move—well, if you held my head and shoved it down my throat, I’d have to take that, too, wouldn’t I? And you won’t be cheating then. You’ll just be taking what’s yours. Just helping him fuck your lying, cheating, deserting little wife in every way she deserves to get it. You want to punish me for what I did to you, and for what I’m doing now. You want to make me pay. I know you do.”
It was all too much. I was hard as iron, mad as fury, and I had a hand on either side of her waist.
She wasn’t smiling now. She was looking into my eyes. Daring me. “Go on, Hemi,” she said. “You know you want it. Make me take it.”
Hemi
I was gripping Anika’s waist so hard, I’d probably leave marks. I knew she’d love seeing them, too. I was breathing in her scent, tasting the power she’d offered me. And I wanted it.
I lifted her off me, stood up, and set her down on the couch.
“No,” I said.
“Hemi.” She stood up and went for me again, and I shot an arm out, took her by the shoulder, and held her off. It wasn’t easy, because she was tall, and she was strong. But I was stronger.
