Chapter 10
ALEXIS
I was a classic cliché.
A lone woman sitting in some fancy bar, nursing the same drink for the past hour. I wore my favourite black dress, curled my dark brown hair to perfection and applied my makeup like a layer of armour.
It was a complete facade to disguise what was festering beneath.
Empty. Alone. Hollow.
My marriage was officially over. The divorce had gone through, and I’d never felt more conflicted.
Is he pleased? Glad to finally be rid of me so he can play father to his happy family? Did he always harbour feelings for my friend? Was this always the end he envisioned, wanted?
I didn’t know whether I was supposed to be offended or happy that my entire romantic history was wrapped up and concluded in the total time span of six months of separation. That’s what my whole marriage came down to—some money in the bank, a clean bill of health post a humiliating STD check and lingering traumatic memories.
What a load of shit.
I don’t know why I even bothered venturing out in public. Maybe to escape the stifling nothingness of the apartment.
Alicia was away for some work event, and even though my parents had offered to drive down, I had been adamant for them not to. I knew if they came, I’d resort to being a snivelling, weeping mess all weekend. I am just so sick of crying. So sick of hurting and crumbling into a pathetic, paralysed wimp.
Upon that thought, the stool next to me shifted. Instinctually reacting to the movement, my eyes raised to clash with a cloud of stormy grey.
Standing next to me was an ever-successful middle-aged man—sophisticated, powerful and wholly compelling. He wore a designer three-piece suit with cologne that smelt like money and divine male.
“You want a top up?” he asked, referring to my half-empty glass. He had a strong accent, the lilt of his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.
And what did my awkward ass do? I just… stared. “You know what, I don’t even know,” I huffed in frustration. “Ah, I suck.”
“It’s a drink, darling, not a marriage proposal.” His tone was teasing, but I couldn’t help my reaction.
I practically deflated, and he noticed.
Without a word, he straddled the vacant stool, ordered two waters and sat beside me in silence. It was weird, unwarranted and strangely welcome.
As minutes ticked by, tension began to build—until I cracked.
“My divorce came through today,” I blurted in one breath.
I didn’t even know why I said it.
“And how does that make you feel?”
“I… I don’t know?”
For unknown reasons, I found myself in such a safe space with the stranger that I suddenly wanted to tell him everything. He had no connection to my previous life. No relation to anyone I knew. The knowledge was starkly refreshing, so I couldn’t help it when I unloaded on him. All my worries, regrets and troubles. He listened, took it like a champ, then returned my melancholy with his own.
We continued to sip our water, openly sharing our experiences. I learnt he was a lifelong bachelor as the only woman he’d ever loved married his best friend. He’d never shared his feelings with either of them, and regretted not making his move when he had the chance many years before. To that day, he remained close friends with them both, willing to push through the constant torture to keep them in his life.
We were a depressing pair, to say the least, but his presence was comforting. For the first time since I’d left Acacia Falls, I didn’t feel broken .
I was grateful. And with that overwhelming sensation came a single tear that managed to escape down my cheek. He caught it with his thumb, his fingers skirting forward to cup my face.
Unintentionally, our positions had shifted, and we were fully turned towards each other. My legs were in between his parted thighs as his intimidating form leaned closer.
Tingles riddled my skin from each minute brush of contact as a simmering heat gathered at my centre.
“I have a proposition,” he said, grey eyes serious and smouldering. Damn it!
I nodded, not trusting my own voice.
“One night—to forget all the pain, to ignore our past grievances. No names, no ages, no identifying factors. Tomorrow, I leave and fly back to my country, never to return. What I’m offering is one night of extraordinary, beautiful pleasure shared between two strangers. Will you say yes?”
His words shifted over my flesh like a soft caress, pulling me in with irresistible temptation and the promise of being free—if only for a little while.
“Yes.”
I brought him back to my apartment, and as soon as we entered, he kicked the door shut and shoved me up against it.
The move was domineering and all the way sexy—which was exacerbated when he wrapped a hand around my throat then slammed his lips to mine.
Our kiss was savage, desperate, coated with red-hot need.
Before long, we were stripped bare, his toned, muscular body having no difficulty lifting me high so my legs could wrap around his waist.
With one hand, he expertly slipped a condom on, then paused at my centre. We haven’t even made it to the bedroom.
“Look at me, darling,” he said, his accent turning my insides into a heated pool of pure lust. “I want to watch you while I take you.”
“Yes… take me .”
With my consent and confirmation, he pushed forward, the tip of his large cock slipping past my entrance, stretching me to the extreme.
A whimper escaped my throat as I rotated my hips, instinctively asking for more, wanting more.
He obliged, guiding his length further into my tightening channel. “That’s it, darling. Let me in .”
Once he had fully sheathed himself inside me, I lost track of anything else other than the need to chase that euphoric bliss only he could provide.
I begged and pleaded for it harder, and the front door rattled at my back from the repetitive punishment he dealt.
A few well-placed strokes and fervent caresses pushed us over the edge to climax together.
Prompting the first of many.
We fucked slow and sensual. Hard and fast. On the bed, in the shower, over the furniture.
Gosh, he couldn’t get enough. Damn, I couldn’t get enough, high and intoxicated on the fumes of completely letting go.
He was the second man I’d ever been with, and he was openly generous. The stranger was attentive, willing to use his previous knowledge to care and provide every sexual desire I could ever want.
There were no inhibitions or shame. Just a natural flow of carnal energy, which only gained more traction every time we connected.
He remained inside me all night, relentless and unforgiving in his pursuit of pleasure. And I had no complaints. I had lost track of time and place, purely living off the euphoria that he managed to rip out of me. Every. Single. Time.
And when I finally fell to slumber, he kissed my hair, thanked me for our shared moment, and then, he was gone.