TWENTY-ONE | Frigid Pastime | Tinsley
TWENTY-ONE
Frigid Pastime
Tinsley
T he next day, I woke up to Mitt not in bed. He must’ve left early for work or didn’t want to be around me as soon as the sun rose because of my question about his scars. I already had my answer, though.
There was a note left on his side of the bed with a message in neatly written cursive.
Be at the Elegant Empire restaurant at six p.m. sharp for dinner. Don’t be late, Wife, or else.
Or else what, Mitt? You’ll have me endure another mind-blowing orgasm, and this time I’ll come all over your hand?
Well, there wouldn’t be a next time. I’d see to that. Mitt might have helped me overcome my fears, but that didn’t change the fact I still wanted out of this mess—this disaster of a marriage—and far away from my demanding husband.
I fumed with anger all morning thanks to Mitt and his orders about our dinner plans. He didn’t even ask me if I wanted to join him or invite me out to dinner like a gentleman. Mitt Morgan was possessive, and it had gone straight to his damn head. But it was such a nice, gorgeous face with high cheekbones sculpted to perfection and featherlike lips I wanted to kiss.
Oh, to hell with him!
I resembled a toddler stomping through my husband’s mansion to find my things, but Mitt had done as he had promised, and all of my belongings were at Morgan Estates. I didn’t have to do anything—the movers had done everything while we slept. My husband surely spent big bucks to order movers to do their job past business hours, but I didn’t care. At least I had my trusty makeup and hairbrush to deal with my wacky appearance. I wouldn’t dare go outside and reveal my scar, resembling Marv from Home Alone after he got electrocuted. No way, not in this lifetime.
At least Mitt had done one thing right. Everything was prepared for me to start my morning instead of walking into work looking like a complete mess. My job was important to me, and another event was in the making. The excitement of the plans to unfold was on my mind as I made my way toward the front door to leave, but a text message stopped me in the hallway.
That better not be Mitt. I didn’t need another unwanted request, or help me God, I might have his head. Or sit on his face while he feasted on my pussy and made me forget about his overbearing behavior.
I cursed out loud at the naughty thought and peered down at the text message in annoyance.
Beau Kingston: I need to talk to you.
Great. An even bigger pain in my ass than my husband. My cheating asshole ex-boyfriend.
Me: I have nothing to say to you.
Another desperate text came through.
Beau Kingston: I’m sorry for everything I did. I was wrong. Please. I need to see you. Can you meet me at our special spot?
I shouldn’t give Beau the time of day. He deserved nothing from me after what he had done. I didn’t owe him a meeting, and I certainly didn’t have to hear any lame excuse for why he did what he did.
I ignored him. My heels clicked along the tiled floor as I made my way toward my exit and retrieved my black fur coat. I caught sight of a light snowfall outside, and there was a frosty design on the glass. I could see through it enough to see Albert awaited me. The chauffeur prepped the limousine, and it was ready to go, all warm and cozy inside to escape the icy chill Mother Nature had whipped up. I put on the coat as the fur wrapped me in warmth and threw the fuzzy hood over my head. I didn’t need snow to screw up my hair that I had worked hard to fix after Mitt had me screaming for him last night in bed.
My cheeks heated at the memory as I went out the door and headed for the vehicle. Paparazzi caught sight of me, but I hurried toward the limousine. A small patch of ice almost wiped me out as I cussed and caught my balance before a fall into a snowbank.
“Mrs. Morgan. You look—” Albert announced as he held open the door.
“Albert, cut the crap and get in the car,” I interrupted as I shooed him away.
“Well, good morning to you too,” Albert mumbled as he moved out of my way and went back to the driver’s seat.
I didn’t need a chauffeur holding a door for me, and I certainly didn’t desire tabloids on my ass to start off my busy workday. Not to mention Mitt. All of this put me in a bitter mood, but soon I could forget. I could get lost in the plans for a winter wedding—a love story sure to end on a cheerful note. Unlike my marriage that had been doomed from the start.
I sat back in the leather seat as the car took off, and my phone chimed with a new text.
Beau Kingston: Meet me at our special spot at six p.m.?
God. Beau, the bastard, didn’t know when to stop. Neither did my grumpy husband, who wanted me at dinner at six sharp.
Wait a minute...
“Albert! Stop the car!” I hollered from the back seat.
Immediately, the limousine jerked to a halt. I grabbed the handle to stop from sliding off my seat and landing on my ass. If there was one thing about old, trusty Albert, it was that he sure knew how to take directions well. He had tons of practice after dealing with Mitt for many years.
“Is everything all right, Mrs. Morgan?”
“Yes. It’s great. Better than great, actually,” I replied with a smile beaming on my face. “I’m guessing Mitt told you about our dinner plans for this evening?”
Albert responded, “Yes, he did.”
“Well, change of plans, Albert,” I notified him and texted my ex back. “But I don’t want Mitt knowing anything about it until after he figures out that I will not be there.”
The next step of getting under Mitt Morgan’s skin was in place. Those divorce papers with his signature should be in my hands by this time tomorrow. My ex-boyfriend was unknowingly going to help me solve my problem, or he’d have a flaming hot target put on his back. Either way, I’d get what I deserved. Freedom.
MY WORKDAY FLEW BY in a flurry, and I didn’t want it to end. Dread filled me as Albert drove me to the place I once loved to go and used to bring me excitement. Butterflies would dance in my belly at the thought of seeing Beau, touching him, and being close. I’d get cheerful about our upcoming conversations and tender kisses, and would wonder if we’d go back to my place or his, but those days were long gone.
All I had left was bitterness, regret, and shame that I was too blind to see that my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me. I thought of every time he was running late or sent last-minute texts about being held up at work. Our relationship hadn’t always been like that, but in the months leading up to me being blindsided, they were. Loneliness had crept in, and when Beau had invited me to dinner, I had leaped to conclusions. I had made myself believe he was ready to propose to me. I was that desperate for more, but he didn’t want me because he was too busy sticking his dick in someone else.
“Wait here for me,” I instructed Albert before I got out of the limousine and walked through the parking garage.
Tension wreaked havoc inside of me as I walked into the busy mall and made my way through the food court. The aroma of fast food with greasy burgers, french fries, pizza, and Chinese food filled my nose. My stomach growled, and I regretted not joining Mitt for dinner. The idea of sitting down to eat with my husband was far more appealing than meeting with a man who didn’t give two shits about me. Beau was nothing but a two-timing asshole.
I found the escalator that would take me to the second floor and let it guide me all the way up. A little girl watched me with an innocent smile on her face as I waved, and she held her mother’s hand as they went off in the opposite direction.
God, I wanted that. A family of my own and to have an undeniable connection with my flesh and blood. A baby.
Instead of being sad about not getting what I wanted, I pushed on. If this meeting with Beau went off as I hoped, I’d be one step closer to getting out of this awful marriage and being single once again, ready to find the man of my dreams who would want to start a family. One who was eager for a wife and a child. Unlike Mitt Morgan, who only wanted to possess me and keep everything strictly about business.
I rounded a corner until I saw our special spot. The only place that brought me grief, and I walked toward the bench by the carousel with unsteady legs. I was shaking on the inside, ready to turn around and go back the way I had come.
I hadn’t seen Beau since that awful day. The moment he had broken me and made me question everything about myself. All the humiliation, disappointment, anger, and sadness came back full force, ready to knock me off my feet. But I had a plan, and I needed to remain strong.
Tinsley. Breathe. You can do this.
The words echoed inside of my head until I heard Beau speak. “Right on time.”
“Yeah. I was always good at that, wasn’t I?” I said as I kept my distance from him.
“You were, but I took advantage of that,” Beau admitted with a soft expression on his face.
The twinkle in his blue eyes used to make my heart flutter. The evening stubble of his whiskers used to make my pussy throb thinking about his face trapped between my thighs. His tongue teasing my aching slit while I grabbed his blond hair and pushed him in further until I couldn’t get enough, and I’d climax, lost in his arms while we laughed. We would chat about life and everything we wanted to accomplish—all the plans we had and how we’d do it all together, but those days were over.
Replaced by my husband’s face and the promise we had made, which was full of lies. His deceitful ways forced me to be here, ready to confront him and make him give me what I wanted.
I glanced around, stepping toward Beau and questioning him. “What do you want, Beau?”
“You,” Beau replied simply.
Nothing fluttered. No lovesick longing made me want to jump into his arms. There was no craving or yearning for Beau to touch me. Only stone-cold hate for everything he had done to me.
“You had me. I was ready for more, and you knew that, but you threw it all away to get your dick wet with someone else.” I glared as I crossed my arms in front of me and stood my ground.
Beau stood up from the bench and held a to-go cup. I already knew what was inside. My favorite iced cappuccino with whip cream and caramel topping. The same drink he always had for me when we used to meet, at the spot where we first met.
“I fucked up. I’m sorry, but I miss you,” Beau explained with a lame-ass apology.
“I think sorry is far from enough after what you did to me,” I admitted.
“Give me a second chance, and I’ll prove to you how sorry I am,” Beau breathed and handed me the cup. “Please take my peace offering.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, to take the damn cup and toss the cold beverage in his face. Beau Kingston deserved it after all, but I had a much bigger scheme up my sleeve. I hoped Mitt was close by and was watching me with my ex. So, I took the stupid cup, but we were far from kissing and making up. I wanted to throw up in my mouth.
“And why should I do that?” I asked, trying to appear interested in his proposal.
Beau answered, “Because you don’t belong with Mitt Morgan.”
“Too damn late, Beau. You missed your chance, and I’m a married woman now,” I informed him and made sure he could see the sparkle of my extremely expensive ring.
“I know. I’ve seen the news,” Beau said, his face inches from mine. “Divorce him. He’s no good for you.”
Got Beau right where I wanted him.
“And you aren’t any better,” I snapped bitterly, and Beau reached out to touch me.