Ellie
Blowing out a deep breath, I hesitate with my hand on the door. Jesus, this situation is screwed up. I’m about to have dinner with the man I’m in love with, his wife, and their son.
My throat clogs as I attempt to swallow while nerves swim in my stomach, threatening to expel the meager contents. I’m pretty sure the only thing I’ve consumed over the past twenty-four hours is Rafael’s cum.
As much as I hate him having a wife, I’m trying my best to understand the predicament he’s in. In my heart, I know he doesn’t want her, and I believe him when he says he hasn’t slept with her in years. I’m torn. I want him with all my heart, but every moral I have is disintegrating at the knowledge of his marriage. No matter how much he tells me it’s a sham, I can’t help but feel like I’m the other woman, yet when I look into his eyes, I can tell I’m anything but. He makes me feel alive and loved, like the most treasured woman on earth. With that thought in mind, I tamp down the feelings of disgust and refuse to acknowledge the doubt swirling inside me, determined to get this meal over with so she can be on her way and leave us alone.
Glancing down at the spaghetti-strapped gray satin dress, I bite into my lip with worry. I look like a child compared to her.
Rafael told me not to wear shoes, and that only has me appearing even smaller compared to him, compared to her too.
My brown locks are straight and smooth, touching my ass, and my face is makeup free, as usual. I straighten my shoulders and pull open the door.
Rosalita’s cooking invades my nostrils, encouraging my stomach to roll when normally my mouth would water. Clearly, my nerves are getting the better of me.
Walking down the stairs, angry voices infiltrate my ears, and each step feels heavier than the last.
“I can’t believe you’re shacked up with the nanny,” she snipes.
“Not your business,” Rafael counters.
“Ugh. You show me no respect at all.” I imagine her pouting with her perfect lips.
“The same respect you show me with the multiple men you have coming and going in the house I pay for.”
“Jealous?”
Rafael scoffs. “In your fucking dreams.”
I round the corner, and he turns to face me as if some magnetic force felt me. He licks his lips, his eyes darken, then narrow, and his jaw tics. He strides toward me, and I take a step back from his angered face. His hand snaps out, and he lifts my hair over my shoulder, exposing his bite marks.
“Better.” He kisses the top of my head.
Nikita forces a gagging noise. “Oh, please.” Rafael ignores her as if we’re the only two people in the room.
“Come.” He takes my hand in his, then brings it to his lips, kissing my fingers with an affection that causes my heart to melt and my love to soar. I don’t know whether to love him for doing it or hate him for showing rare affection in public. Something tells me he’s staking his claim.
I just wish he wasn’t doing it in front of his wife.