22. Rosenna
Chapter twenty-two
Rosenna
G rabbing a few extra wine glasses from the kitchen, I made my way to the patio to help Gavin set up for his game night. His buddies would show up in less than half an hour, and I began feeling anxious as time passed. He’d invited Beckham a couple of weeks ago, and I was silently praying he wouldn’t show. His getting closer to Gavin was nothing more of a ploy to get closer to me.
I was starting to lose control, and he knew that. Ever since that night, I’d tried my ultimate best to ignore him, but he wasn’t having any of it.
I needed to be careful, to tread lightly around Beckham and his tactics that could quite literally send me to my knees. After all, it truly was getting harder to say no to him.
“Rosenna, can you grab the guests from the front door?” Gavin asked as he looked through his messages while simultaneously trying to fix his speaker. “I need to finish up a bit here, and some of the guys texted saying they were here.”
“No problem; be back in a sec.”
I walked inside the house and toward the front door. Upon opening it, I was met with about four men from Gavin’s clique. Brent, my loan shark essentially, was amongst the group and he gave me a smile and a short side hug as a greeting.
He was all charm and sharp edges. With his dirty blonde hair and gentle green piercing eyes, I was reminded of his days as a ladies’ man in college with Gavin.
“Rosenna, thanks for having us,” he said happily.
I gave him a small pat on the back. It felt a bit odd to hug the man who coerced me into getting an excessive loan, but I remained polite nonetheless.
“Hi, Brent. Welcome, guys. Gav is just setting up in the back on the patio for tonight’s game night.”
They each stepped in as one of them handed me a bottle of wine for the evening. I decided to keep the door ajar, just in case any other guests decided to show, and I made my way over to the kitchen.
I placed the bottle on the kitchen island and grabbed a large bowl to put together the last-minute snacks for the afternoon before I got started on dinner. Pouring the chips into the bowl, I jumped as I felt a hand on the small of my back, dangerously close to lowering to my ass. Looking up, my eyes caught Beckham’s, cautiously watching him as he gazed down at me. I immediately pulled away from him and looked over my shoulder quickly before glaring back at him.
“What is wrong with you?!” I asked angrily.
He bit his lip as he did a once-over of my outfit. “I can’t come to tell you how pretty you look, Flower?”
I narrowed my eyes at him as he shamelessly ran his eyes over my hips in these tightly fitted jeans and the way my long sleeve knit shirt consequently accentuated chest and waist.
“Not when my husband is only one room away!” I seethed, but he simply continued looking down at me as I fixed the snacks. He stepped a bit closer, and I reluctantly felt a bit of warmth as he placed his hand on the small of my back once again. My face burned as I did my best to ignore whatever feelings started building.
I couldn’t fall for a man like Beckham. It wasn’t possible. He wasn’t able to reciprocate feelings and I was too busy at the moment trying to hold on to my marriage. But at that moment, I felt like leaning my head on his shoulder and breathing him in as he would do with me.
Fixing the bowl, I pulled away from him as he remained in his spot. I could tell he was feeling irritated, but I couldn’t do much about it. Lifting my eyes, I almost flinched as I noticed Brent coming in with a beer. He looked at me, his eyes lingering for a moment, and I gulped. Surely he didn’t hear or see anything?
Beckham maneuvered as if I wasn’t there before he grabbed one of the bottles of water on the counter. His eyes did linger on me for a moment, but he simply walked past me, nodding casually at Brent.
Brent paused, a little too long. His eyes had flickered between us a few times, but thankfully, he casually nodded to the front door, only a hint of something unreadable in his expression as he didn’t pry. “Forgot something in my car,” he uttered, shrugging, and I gave him a small smile as I walked past him and toward the patio.
For a moment, I could have sworn I felt his eyes on me as I walked, though I shook it off as I took a few deep breaths, trying to rule it as a coincidence that he seemed to walk in at a rather questionable and inconvenient situation. He probably didn’t hear anything. Right?
Entering the patio, I placed the chips and dip on the refreshments table and looked over to see the guys getting ready to be engrossed in a game of heavy poker, some of them puffing on expensive cigars. One, already lit, smoldered at Brent’s place.
Walter, one of Gavin’s older partners, said, “Hey, maybe the wife should join us in the game, huh? Why don’t we see if she’s any good?”
I crossed my arms playfully, ignoring the dark gaze from my personal incubus at the end of the table, which was making me go slightly weak in the knees.
“I should warn you, Walter. I don’t play nice…” I joked.
He took a puff from the cigar. “And how do you play, Rosenna?”
“Let’s just say I’m not afraid to get dirty.” I winked, and laughed as the men threw in a few whistles while Gavin wrapped his arm around my waist.
A certain someone, however, didn’t laugh… and from the corner of my eye, I could see him trying to hold back a smile while he took a sip of his drink, as if he knew the double meaning of my words. Which he most certainly did.
“Pile on a bit more now, guys, will you?” Gavin commented, rolling his eyes.
I giggled. “I kid, I kid. And no, I will save you all the trouble and not barge in on your fun. I’m just here to provide the refreshments and make sure you guys are well fed and not too wasted by the end of the night.”
“She’s a keeper, Johnson. They don’t make them like that anymore these days,” one of Gavin’s other partners laughed, taking a heavy puff.
I forced a smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes.
Gavin’s partners were nice but they were a bit conceited, self-centered and only a bit misogynistic and sexist when it came to men vs. women. I hated imagining why Gavin got along so well with them.
“Surely you’ll stay around and watch, at least?” I heard from the end of the table.
I looked over to see Beckham waiting for my response as he held my gaze.
“...I’ll be around.” My voice was steady despite the quick flutter in my stomach.
Deciding I would take my leave for the moment, I gave Gavin a slight shoulder rub before making my way inside. Later, I started on dinner and, occasionally walked past the glass door as I waited for the water to boil or the oil to heat up.
From where I stood, I could see Beckham was doing fairly well. Not that I was particularly rooting for him or was expecting it.
Though, even as I tried to convince myself to ignore the man, my eyes lingered on him for a moment.
He didn’t look up right away. Just the slightest shift of his shoulders, like he could feel my eyes on him. Then, lazily, he met my gaze through the glass. He licked his lips discreetly, the action sending heat through me as he turned back to the cards nonchalantly.
Deciding to wrap up dinner, I forced myself away from the glass door and back to the kitchen. I finished plating the applewood-smoked ribs, crispy curly fries, and mini sliders, setting them alongside the jalapeno poppers I’d dug out from the depths of the freezer.
They’d probably be too drunk to notice the slight hint of freezer burn.
Balancing the trays, I stepped outside and noticed the guys had split up, the poker game abandoned in favor of darts and pool.
After I set up the table for them, I decided to get a bit of self-care in for myself. I had the upstairs for some time, and the bathtub, a glass of wine, and my novel were slowly calling me to join them.
I gave Gavin a heads-up that I would be disappearing for the rest of the night. He placed a small kiss on my cheek before I made my way into the house, still feeling the primal, intense, dark gaze on me as I left.
It had to be close to eleven PM as I lay in bed restless. Gavin and his buddies were still living it up, drunkenly, might I add, and I was having trouble falling asleep. It could very well be the fact that my personal incubus could have been lurking anywhere in the house, and I didn’t want to take any chances… or it could be the fact that I felt a bit thirsty and had to use the bathroom too.
Standing up, I smoothed out my white silk night dress before grabbing the matching robe to put on as well. I went over to the bathroom to do my business before heading downstairs. I wasn’t all that worried about Gavin’s friends ending up somewhere in the house. He usually stopped them from coming in and out when he knew I was trying to get some rest.
Going into the kitchen, I grabbed a glass from the shelf and filled it with a bit of ice and water. I debated whether or not I wanted to go back upstairs now, but I decided to finish the water down here before making the trip. Leaning on the counter, I took a sip as I stared into the dining room. While I did, I thought about a few things…
I thought about my relationship with Gavin, my infidelity, and his need for control… I thought about Brent, owing him more money than I truly needed, and him enjoying a beer outside my home. I bit my lip involuntarily as I thought about Beckham.
I thought about his voice, his hands, his demeanor, his possessiveness. I thought about the night at his father’s dinner and the night of my huge fight with Gavin.
It didn’t do me any favors in my already hot and bothered state.
“Flower?” I heard behind me, and I flinched as I looked over my shoulder to see Beckham standing at the entrance of the kitchen, effectively trapping me inside.
“Beckham. Gavin said he locked the patio door for me. I was trying to get some sleep.”
His jaw clenched ever so slightly. “He let me in… said I had to use the bathroom.”
I cleared my throat as a blush came over my face. “It’s, uh… it’s just the second door down the hall.”
He nodded silently as he approached me slowly. I gulped, realizing my predicament with my short, almost see-through attire.
A part of me regretted wearing this, regretted coming downstairs, knowing he would be lingering. And regretted having relations with him in the first place. I truly wished regret was enough to get away from him, to distance myself, to rid myself of the dangerous desire within me. But the other part of me, the sick, masochistic part, believed every decision I’d made thus far had been the right one.
“Beckham…” I whispered, and his eyes grew more lustful and darker as he stalked closer to me. I bit my lip, putting my back against the counter as I held my robe together in front of me while crossing my arms.
He stopped before me, and I ignored his gaze as I felt my skin going hot at his proximity.
I let out a shaky breath. “Gavin and the guys are p-probably looking for you.”
He didn’t say anything. Then my breath caught in my throat, my skin burning as he slowly trailed his hand up and down my arm, his touch deliberate and full of purpose.
My robe slipped down my shoulder, exposing my strap. As I went to pull up the fallen fabric, Beckham grabbed my wrist in his hold. The grip was soft but firm, stopping me as it sent shivers down my spine and made my knees weaken.
“Beckham, please,” I pleaded in a feeble whisper.
He sighed as he leaned down to my ear, his voice brushing against my skin like he owned it.
“ Flower… turn your little ass around and bend over the fucking counter.”