Page 32 of Retribution

“How can I be wrong? I do remember the over-confident asshole.”

She meets my eyes.

“Long story short, he’s just like every other guy and also as you put it, an over-confident asshole, who cheated on me.” The pain flashes across her eyes even from that brief statement.

My hand reaches out for hers instinctively and I notice a silver line of tears coating her eyes. She begins to laugh out loud, shaking her head and blinking away the tears that were about to spill.

Damn, when I met the guy, he was all over her, and I knew straight away he was way out of her league. And that guy cheated on… her?

The nostalgia brews.

I instantly begin to feel an anger I had buried deep down inside of me, reminding me of my disgusting excuse of a father that had done the same to my mother. Why do they always throw away a diamond for a piece of dirt?

If I’ve learned anything from my father’s mistakes, it’s that I know my respect for women, I know boundaries and the purpose of being a husband.

Well… I did.

“Just refill my drink will you… oh and remove the shirt.” She winks.

I begin to unbutton my shirt, one by one, fumbling slightly, purposely.

“Here, let me help you.” she leans across me and swings a leg over my lap.

I jolt at the sudden movement, her dress shifting up her thighs. I look up to her as she begins to take over the unbuttoning. Her eyebrows crease slightly as she concentrates, a small line appearing in between them and her lips part slightly as she leans further forward, casting shadows across my face.

I can feel the heat of her breath smother me, the scent of the wine filling my senses. I flutter my eyes closed as my hands find their way to her waist, holding her in place.

She pulls my shirt fully open as her eyes devour my body, taking in all of it. She rests her hands on my chest carefully and softly, sending a ripple of sensation straight to my groin. Her touch feels magnetic on my body, demanding a response from me.

“Your turn.”

Snapping out of my trance, I focus my attention back to her sweet face.

“Right, yeah. So I’m allergic to shellfish, I have a foot fetish and I’ve only ever slept with one person my whole life.”

She concentrates on me for a while, her hands remain on my chest. The pressure in my body to stop me from flipping her onto this couch and running my hands all over her body, is bordering on weak.

“I’m gonna say… the lie is that you’ve only ever slept with one person. I can one-hundred percent see you as the kind of guy to have a foot fetish.” She giggles.

I burst out into a laugh, almost offended.

“Well, I’m not opposed to foot play, but I most definitely don’t have a foot fetish,” I say in my defense. Her laugh falters as she realizes, she didn’t guess the lie correctly, finding it hard to mask my succeeding grin.

“Refill my drink, darling… oh, and remove the dress.” I sit back and spread my arms out across the back of the couch, repeating her words from the last round.

We lock eyes as she bites her lip nervously, all whilst she remains straddled on me. Her hands slowly find their way to the bottom of her black silky dress, and I clench my fists in apprehension of what’s to come.

She grips the thin fabric and ever so slowly tugs it upwards, revealing more of her skin on her thighs. Instinctively, I run my hands along her smooth legs, the feel of it is like she herself, is made of silk.

My eyes dart back up to hers, the vibrancy of her green eyes have now darkened, almost swallowing me up with lust. She continues pulling the fabric up higher, now just above her waist. I glance back down to see the black lace that caresses her most prized possession. Fuck.

Swallowing hard, my mouth all of a sudden dry. The material keeps moving upwards, exposing her smooth, toned stomach. I move my hands up the sides of her, causing her to shudder.

God, I am so fucking turned on right now.

As the dress reaches her underarms, her head disappears as she wrestles the material over her head. I cast my eyes down her entire front, taking in a harsh breath at the sight of her plump breasts, her nipples hardened and begging for mercy.

The sound of her dress hitting the floor brings me back to her face. She wears a smart look on her face at my obvious flushed appearance, the heat apparent on my cheeks.

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