Page 43 of Scandalously Yours

Kristopher

Ifinally got home after spending two long hours at the station. Detective Reynolds had grilled me about the bruises and marks even though he knew I couldn’t have done it since I was at the hospital all damn day. If anyone should’ve been interrogated, it should’ve been Hayley for filing a false report. There was no telling how much longer I would’ve been there had it not been for my lawyer basically telling them to either charge me or let me go. He also threatened a harassment lawsuit, and I knew he would follow through if I gave him the word.

I unlocked the door and entered my penthouse. As I tossed my keys onto the small table in the foyer, I glanced up at the circular mirror above it at my reflection. I was fucking tired. Exhausted, even. These constant battles with Hayley were aging me considerably, and if it wasn’t for my pride, I might’ve just given her the extra money and got this over and done with. I never should’ve agreed to a separation, and just went right for a divorce.

“But the children need time to adjust to everything. You know how everyone talks. Society will harass them for click bait material, Kristopher. Think about them for a change,” she’d told me when I had told her my preference.

At the time, I honestly thought she loved the children, but recent actions were starting to make me think otherwise. When had I gotten to this place in my life? And why? Those questions seemed to be the burning ones presently, and I had no response for either. I had done bad things in my life before, but I thought I had atoned for them. Hell, I had been young and stupid back in high school. I’d hurt more women than I could count back then, and I sometimes wondered if this was the universe’s way of giving me the middle finger.

I scrubbed my hands down my face, then stepped into the living room. After everything that had gone down from the detective showing up at the hospital to having Alessia see Hayley during one of her performances, it called for a drink and something strong. As I thought about the woman I loved, just imagining that she for a second believed me to be some kind of monster was almost too much to take. I decided to skip beer and went straight to a bottle of whiskey. Grabbing the Jack Daniels, I went into the office to sit down at my computer. I took a swig while my computer powered on, and when I saw the two waiting videos, I heaved out a sigh.

I was inside of her just hours earlier and it was a place I wanted to be more than anywhere else. This current clusterfuck of a life wasn’t how things should’ve been. Right now, Alessia should be in my bed beneath, on top, and beside me, so I could make love to her all damn night. Things like that seemed like fantasies right now because fate kept putting one obstacle after another in our way. Hayley seemed to be the majority of them, and I tried ignoring any thoughts about remedying the situation once and for all. This woman could be sent somewhere on a one way ticket, but she was the mother of my children, and I knew she wouldn’t leave quietly. I doubted she had any true emotion toward them. They appeared to be more of a cash cow than a blessing.

I took another swig of the whiskey even though I was so numb to the liquor by now that it barely even burned going down. I wanted to be consumed in fire, but not in that way. The first of the two videos started and I watched as she walked to her door. There was something in her voice that I didn’t like. Usually, these little tasks provided hope for her which in turn led to excitement. Tonight, it only seemed to be resignation, and I growled.

She stepped into her place and began to tell me what a normal night would entail. I closed my eyes for a few brief seconds as I tried to imagine that being our life. She painted such a vivid picture, and that was something I wanted more than anything else right now. So much for money solving all of your problems.

“Just give me what I’ve asked for, and this process will go much smoother, asshole,” Hayley had told me just yesterday.

Money might solve some problems, but it wouldn’t my issues with her no matter what she said to the contrary. “We agreed to terms before our marriage,” I’d reminded her, and it only set her off.

She had been using the children as pawns ever since I had moved out of the house. I couldn’t count how many times she would tell me that I could take them here or there only for me to show up and the three not be there. She would also lie saying they were there so she could try to seduce me. Once, I even fell for it and knocked on her door. In the beginning, seeing her in different sets of lingerie with toys I used to use on her would occasionally get a reaction, but never the one she wanted.

Sex with her had been good for a while. Once upon a time, I would spend hours fucking her. She liked things rough, and once I had gotten a taste of it, my own preferences started to change as well. Bondage... spankings... forced orgasms... I liked to do them all to her, and she often begged for more. There were so many nights that she’d practically scream the roof off of the damned penthouse as I’d bring her to one orgasm after another. We had experimented with several different things over the years, but it hadn’t been enough to save what we once had.

Outside of the bedroom, the two of us hated one another. In fact, it had been that emotion which had helped me get off when with her, during the last few years of our marriage. It had never been that way with Alessia. I craved her more than the air I needed to breathe. She reawakened something inside of me I never wanted to bury again, but had since that first night with her in the Bahamas.

Alessia mentioned going to take a shower as that first video ended. Again, it reminded me of our first time. After I had fucked her against the wall, we had showered together, and I was hard just thinking about her touching herself while she was alone in her own. Was she doing that? And if so, was she remembering the way that I had pinned her to the glass and fucked her so damn hard?

There was only one way to find out. Before I hit start on the second video, I got up and walked upstairs to change into something more comfortable. When I returned in just a pair of loose sweats, I pulled my cock out and stroked it as the next clip started to play. A growl escaped at the sight of her in nothing but a towel. She was right to think that I would tear it off of her because I would. My hand started to move up and down my shaft.

Alessia talked about taking me into her mouth and I groaned aloud remembering the feel of her hot lips on my cock. My hand seemed even more inadequate at this point, but the memories took over and I swelled even harder.

I’d get you off all while aching to feel you inside of me.

Fuck! I was so close. I refused to bust in my hand at the moment, because I knew there would be more. The rapid pumping of my hand slowed as she talked about my mouth. God, I loved to eat her sweet pussy. Since the very first time in that Bahamian cave, I had been addicted to the taste of her.

My hand moved slowly, and methodically, as I enviously watch something else cause her to arch upward in pleasure. Fucking Hayley. I should be there living this night with Alessia, not just this evening but every other one, too. I focused on Ale, and once or twice even furrowed my brow as I realized something was wrong. The day had been rough on all of us, and that had to be it. Right?

“It’s agony,” she had bemoaned in the video, and I had to agree.

I know, Ale. I feel it, too. More than you’ll ever fucking know.

My hand began to move faster as she started to fuck herself with the toy. The sight of her spread across the bed, remembered feel of her body, and her voice had me close to exploding all over my hand. Just when I thought we would both do so, she just stopped. Her next words had me stilling my hand immediately.

“You are mine,” I ground out between gritted teeth, and I just became even more upset as she continued on. “We can be together, Ale. Don’t give up on us—” When she placed a kiss against the camera and everything went black, I ripped my hand away from my cock and closed my eyes.

She had just left me. The worst part was that I also couldn’t blame her for doing so. The pain in her voice and in her eyes… It was enough to do me in. My hands balled up into fists as I tried to resist the urge to go and throttle Hayley for all she had taken away from me. I banged my fist once upon my desk, then again and again until I pounded so hard, so many times that the wood started to splinter.

I quickly rose to my feet, and in one fluid motion, I knocked everything atop it onto the floor, and I didn’t even give a damn. The rage I felt had mingled with the pain and I needed someone or something to pay. I moved to my walled bookshelves and knocked all the photographs off of it. As they fell to the floor, one landed atop the others. It was a photograph that the two of us had taken when in Bahamas. There had been others in the frame, but I had blown it up and cropped the others out.

Alessia was smiling, the pure joy on her face evident. It was a far cry from the anguish I just witnessed on that video. Hayley hadn’t done this to her. I had. I knew better than to get involved with anyone until the ink was dry on my divorce papers, but I had succumbed to her beauty and light, and now she was left broken in pieces because of me. In fact, she had compared what we had to the loss of the baby she carried for two friends of mine. The nights she had cried on my shoulder as I drew it all of out her, and now I left her in the same, if not worse, shape, and I was the last one who could offer her comfort.

I wanted to smash that photograph too, but I chose to sit it on top of my desk, then grabbed the bottle of whiskey and headed back into the other room. I was staggering on my feet, and when I looked down, I saw the bloody footprints follow my every move. Hobbling over to the couch, I sat down and lifted one foot and didn’t even care how deep the glass had worked itself into my skin. After removing the shards that I could, I took another swig from the whiskey bottle.

“I can’t do it anymore. Not tonight... tomorrow... or ever again.” Her words echoed repeatedly in my head until I couldn’t take it any longer.

I took the bottle and chucked it across the room. It too met the same fate as the photographs in my office as it shattered against the wall. Even that, however, did little to stop the flood of memories from our short time together. It was all too much. Everything was unraveling, including my sanity. It was a freefall at this point, and there was little I could do to stop it.

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