7. Rosenna
Chapter seven
Rosenna
S itting in the cafe, my hands twitched nervously under the table. Gavin was furious… and I was unsure why. After saying goodbye to Vincent, he was silent, ignoring me and my failed attempts to speak to him.
The waiter had just taken our orders, and Gavin took a sip of his water before finally speaking, his rage obvious but calm.
“When were you going to tell me you landed Garcia’s son?”
I bit my lip. “I was going to tell you soon enough. You just got a bit angry the last time I mentioned it…”
His jaw clenched in irritation. “And what happened to selling the properties?”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “That was a suggestion you gave me. I wasn’t really going to act on it.”
He shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh. “Of course you wouldn’t have.”
“Is that supposed to mean something, Gavin?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Rosenna. You don’t know how to be a wife and listen to your husband. I suggested you sell, and you ignored me. Anything I ask you to do, you fucking find a way to defy me, and it’s starting to piss me off. “
I stared at him, shocked by the venom in his voice.
“I’m sorry… is me being independent and doing what’s best for me and my career considered not listening to my husband? I contribute to the relationship by being my own person, not living in your shadow or following your every demand. What’s gotten into you lately?”
He stared at me for a moment longer, exhaling sharply through his nose. Like he was disgusted with me.
Then, without a word, he pushed back his chair and stood.
“Fuck this shit.”
He reached into his wallet, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and tossed it onto the table like he was paying off an inconvenience.
“I’m going back to the office. I’ll see you at home,” he seethed and left the cafe as tears came to my eyes.
Every time.
The waiter came over to ask if I was okay, and I asked him to cancel the order before I apologized and left. I did my best to wipe away my tears, but they didn’t stop.
A constant reminder that no matter how hard I tried… it wouldn’t make a difference because it would never be enough.
Walking into Beckham’s studio, I watched him place his tools down as he looked over at me. His hands were stained with charcoal while he watched me in that way that made my breath catch.
The butterflies in my stomach swarmed from his gaze, but I ignored them as I placed my things down.
He wiped his hand with a damp rag as he walked over to me. He placed his hand on the side of my face, his touch seeming too soft for a man like him.
“Why the long face, Flower?”
I shook my head.
“It’s nothing…” I whispered, looking down.
He placed his finger under my chin to make me look back up at him.
“You and I both know that’s not the truth.”
My lungs deflated. “I… got into another fight with my husband,” I admitted, hating how small my voice sounded. “And… I’m thinking I should just sell my properties. He’s upset that I don’t listen to his suggestions, and if I want to keep the peace, I think I just may have to start.”
Beckham hummed, his thumb brushing over my cheek. The contrast of his rough hands and his gentle touch was unbearable.
“Tell me, Flower… do you feel cherished by that man… loved even?”
I thought about it for a moment as I blinked up at him. Do I feel loved by Gavin? Of course he loves me. We’ve been together for so long. He cares about me.
“I do… a-at least I think I do,” I whispered.
Why… why didn ’ t I sound so sure?
Beckham watched me, watched the way my lips hesitated.
“Have you ever felt what it’s like to be in love?” I asked him, desperate to turn the attention away from myself.
Something in his expression shifted. He came in a bit closer as he looked down at me.
“I’m not capable of love.” His voice was quiet, as if the words had been ingrained in him for years. “My emotions are rather… ambiguous. Vague. However you want to describe it. Because I wasn’t able to express them growing up, I turned to art. I was able to learn not only more about myself but more about others as I could interpret their emotions simply by drawing, sculpting, or painting them.”
A shiver ran down my spine at his dark gaze.
“Forgive me if I seem a bit superstitious about this newfound ability of yours,” I said softly, and I gulped as he wiped away my fallen tear with his thumb.
“Most people are, Flower.”
“Is that what you were trying to do with me? Trying to understand me?” I asked.
His eyes darkened. “That’s not all I want to do to you, my little flower...” His hand trailed up and down my arm, leaving my skin on fire. “While drawing you, I learned that you are a very strong-minded woman who’s been beaten down and made into an almost fragile doll. But you won’t give up… you wouldn’t let yourself.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. My head became light. Heat built in my skin, my breath shallowing, heart beating faster.
“A woman like you…” He leaned in. “Deserves to be understood. Cherished. Adored…”
I squeezed my eyes shut, his lips a gentle caress against my skin.
“Worshipped.”
His breath was hot against my skin, and suddenly, I was back in that bathtub—back in my own fantasies of him.
I shook my head as I placed my hands on his chest to push him away.
“Please…” I choked out. “Beckham. I-I can’t. Please.”
He grabbed one of my wrists. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to remind me how easily he could pull me back: effortlessly.
“You can…” he assured, his voice calm, ignoring my anxious and desperate plea.
I tried to get away, but I felt myself melt in his hold as he leaned into my neck and inhaled deeply. I held back a moan as he groaned.
“You’re going to drive me fucking crazy,” he whispered.
I couldn’t help the way my body reacted. He asserted such dominance, but without excessive control or power. I was starting to lose myself in him.
I had to stop.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered as though reading my thoughts—and then he placed an open-mouthed kiss on my neck.
“Beckham,” I moaned.
In that moment he must have lost it. He attacked my lips in a passionate kiss, suffocating me in him. I brought my hands up to his hair as he pulled me closer, my hands tugging at his hair as he possessively took control of me. He demanded entry into my mouth like he’d been waiting an age for this moment.
Pull away. Pull away. Pull away.
His tongue danced in my mouth as if he was starving, flicking in and out until the only thing I could only breathe in was him. His hand traveled to my breast, and I gasped as he greedily squeezed it in his palm, causing me to whine in pain, my back arching into his touch.
His teeth grazed my bottom lip, his grip tightening just enough to make my breath hitch.
He pulled away and turned me around to face the mirror. There, I could see my flushed face, slightly messy hair—swollen, wet and plump lips.
He groaned. “Let me show you what it means when a man fucking cherishes you.”
I threw my head back as both of his hands were on my breasts, groping and squeezing. He continued kissing my neck, and I practically saw stars as he toyed with my bud between his fingers, gripping my body like he owned it.
I looked away from the mirror, closing my eyes—
“Open your fucking eyes,” he ordered.
I squeezed them shut tighter. I couldn’t open them. If I looked, if I saw what he was doing to me, how much I was letting him take…I didn’t know if I would be able to stop.
Tears sprang as he manhandled me, groping me harder until a desperate whine surfaced at the pain, forcing my eyes open. The mirror showed he had complete control over my body. I jumped as I felt him grind into my ass, my core clenching at the length of him.
“You feel what you do to me? You feel that?” he rasped in my ear. “Do you feel how much I want to fuck your little wet cunt? To make you choke on my cock, fucking use you as my own little sex doll, fucking breed your little pussy until you can’t take anymore? Hmmm, Flower?”
I had to stop him… because I could already imagine him taking me against his desk with my hands behind my back. My words were caught in my throat, conflicted between telling him to stop or begging him for more.
Stop him.
“So fucking sexy,” he purred in my ear.
I whimpered softly.
I had to stop.
“Stop… Stop. Stop!” I said, out of breath, and just like that, his hands were off me.
My chest heaved. My fingers trembled as I snatched up my things, my body still flushed, aching, ruined .
He looked frustrated, restrained, primal… Like he was letting his prey get away. With a sharp exhale, he shoved a hand through his hair, jaw clenching.
I turned for the door, my steps quick, desperate to escape. He didn’t try to stop me. But I felt the heat of his stare, the way it burned into my back as I exited his studio and went straight for my car.
Getting inside, I sped straight home, forcefully blocked out the events of tonight.
I can ’ t. I can ’ t. I can ’ t.
I had to stop.
Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.
My phone rang, and I answered out of breath.
“Hello,” I exhaled, and I thanked God the voice I heard on the other side was Kira’s.
“You sound like you’ve either just ran a marathon or just got properly fucked.”
On second thought, never mind.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose. “What do you want, Kira?” I asked, frustrated.
“Richard scheduled a meeting with Beckham and a few of his associates. They want to lay a floor plan and think of some dates to host his events.”
Just hearing his name sent something dark through me, it was unbelievable.
“Great. Send me the details.”
She paused for a moment. “I’m also fitting in a nail and hair appointment for you tomorrow morning… you need some kind of relaxation.”
I pushed my hair out of my face with a small sigh. “Thank you, Kira.”
“It’s what I do, Rose.”
Back at home, I contemplated taking a bath, but I had to stop myself… that led me nowhere but on cloud nine last time. Going into the kitchen instead, I poured myself a glass of wine and swallowed half in one sip.
The wine burned as it went down, but it wasn’t enough. Not enough to drown out the taste of him on my lips, the way my body still ached for something I should never have wanted.
I felt… guilty . I just cheated on my husband. My husband of five years… the man I love. The man I’ve given my life to… all for a crude, flawed, emotionless man who wants to use my body for his pleasure.
Let me show you what it means when a man fucking cherishes you.
I shook my head as I continued up the stairs.
I have to stop. I need to get my life back in order. I need to get on good terms with Gavin. I need to get Beckham out of my head.
I need to stop.