28. Rosenna
Chapter twenty-eight
Rosenna
G avin
Just wanted to check in, Rose. I’ll be home tomorrow night.
All right, Gav. I miss you.
I remained silent as I gazed down at the message I’d sent, reading it to myself over and over again. I felt like a hypocrite. I should miss my husband. I should want him to come home. But I didn’t.
Now, my heart was practically racing as a million possible scenarios occurred in my mind. Although they were all slightly different, they all ended with me being caught with Beckham. With the potential threat of Brent exposing us, I was absolutely beside myself.
Maybe that’s what I deserved. I did this to myself. I ruined the sanctity of my marriage. I gave in to the temptation. I should be ready for the consequences. Or rather, I should be expecting them sometime soon.
It’s not like I could have let this go on forever. At some point, we would inevitably be caught. And if not, I hope I would have some sort of morality left in me to try to fix things with the man I supposedly loved.
Flinching as my door was ripped open beside me, I glanced around to see we were back at Beckham’s studio. Looking forward, I remained silent as he leaned down.
Maybe the threat of my husband returning soon made him want to ruin me a little while longer. Maybe he wanted to break me and put me back together one last time before I returned home. Who knows?
Maybe while we’re engaging in sinful acts throughout the night, Brent will let Gavin know his wife is with another man while he’s been away, and we’ll be caught in the morning.
“Rosenna...” Beckham filled the silence.
My eyes closed out of reflex to his dark tempting voice. My thighs tightened. However, I did my best to ignore it. In the midst of my crisis… in the midst of my panic, once again, all I could think about was my growing and aching need for him .
Taking in a shaky breath, I stared ahead. “Beckham. I need to go home.”
He tilted his head, his expression mixed with both false concern, confusion, and twisted amusement.
“Are you sure you can’t just stay for dinner ? Maybe I’ll run us another bath ?” he suggested, leaning down, and I felt my heart rate quicken as he did. His tone… it was alarming, to say the very least.
It practically mocked me as he coaxed me before in the same manner, and those same activities led us to the same predicament that he wanted me to be in.
I shook my head. “My husband is coming home tomorrow,” I reminded both him and myself, as my nausea continued to surface.
“We still have today.” His voice was dark, warm, inviting… dangerous .
“Beckham, please.” I whispered. But I recalled the same position we were in only a few weeks ago. I couldn’t say no then, and he knew I still couldn’t now.
He hummed after a moment and I flinched once again as his hand landed on my thigh. Almost as if I was trying to get away from him, I found myself pushing back into my seat as I gulped, doing my best to put some distance between us.
“And when he comes back… are we supposed to just act like nothing happened these last few days?”
I spoke sharply. “That is exactly what we need to do.”
His gaze seemed to darken. Beckham was not exactly a fan of letting me go. And because he was impulsive, rash, and selfish, his hand only tightened as he leaned down to my neck. I reached out, catching his wrist in my hand.
I held back the sound rising in my throat as his lips met my collarbone.
“Beckham...”
“ Tell me to stop…”
My hand tightened on his wrist as my heart raced. For some obviously fucked up reason, I actually found his possessiveness both frightening and extremely alluring.
It was alluring for obvious reasons, but once again, I had to reiterate how he absolutely terrified me. The way he looked at me, spoke to me, touched me… It was almost as if he would never stop until I was completely his, regardless of the consequences.
“ Tell me to stay away. Go on…”
I threw my head back as his hand went farther up my thigh. I could feel him smiling sadistically against my neck, and I let out a defeated sigh as he pulled away and placed a kiss on my lips.
This was all my fault. All along, Beckham was only the facilitator of my sins. I was the one who lacked the willpower to stop myself from acting on them. What started off with blackmail had turned into something neither of us can control.
The sin-filled relationship we had was going to tear me apart just as he wanted—and that same masochistic part of me wanted to welcome my impending demise with open arms.
The following day, I wrapped up a meeting with Beckham and his father’s associates, managers, and marketing team. Since Gavin was coming home today, I packed my belongings from Beckham’s studio this morning after spending the night with him again.
He seemed to be anything but pleased.
During the meeting, it looked as though he was giving me the cold shoulder. As much as I appreciated him not undressing me with his eyes, watching him essentially ignore me for the entire meeting was different.
I would never openly admit that I was comfortable or liked being the center of his attention, but after spending almost a week with him cherishing and pampering me while my neglectful husband was in another state, I was definitely feeling the effects of being ignored.
Especially as he walked out alongside his father’s associates without sparing me a glance. Maybe it was reality sinking in… that our fairytale of a week was over, as Gavin would be coming home soon. Regardless of whatever it was, I myself needed a reality check as well. I needed to let go of this temptation, this desire… this craving for a man who solely focused on his wants or, rather, his needs, without understanding the consequences of his actions.
Doing my best to ignore those thoughts, I return Kira’s bright smile as she entered my office. “Things are finally starting to look up from here, Rose.”
“They sure are.”
“We just need to make sure we keep both of our sugar daddies happy for the exposition to be successful.”
I sighed at her crude and colorful language. “Can you please stop referring to Vincent Garcia and his son as our sugar daddies?”
Kira gave a shrug as she opened an envelope on my desk and read through it, as she usually did when I received mail.
“On another note, I know someone else we’ve been keeping pretty happy. Looks like our involuntary sugar daddy just cashed his recent check of forty grand toward the loans.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as I ignored her statement.
I could almost guarantee now that yesterday’s events with Brent’s rather interesting mannerisms must’ve all been in my head. Maybe he was only being so nice, empathetic, and understanding so he could cash his next check without any issues.
But Kira had noticed my shift in mood. She looked up from the mail. “Did something happen?”
I sighed as I shook my head. “I brought Beckham over to the property I told you about to have a look inside, and as I was taking a breather outside, I ran into Brent.”
“But he was supposed to be out of town with Gavin,” Kira said, furrowing her eyebrows.
“And yet he met me at the bottom of the museum steps where he and Beckham had some weird face-off.”
“Daddy Picasso is getting territorial now? It’s unlike him to let his possessiveness show so much.”
I narrowed my eyes at Kira, and she raised her hands in defense.
“The whole encounter was just… odd, you know? Brent started off nice and platonic, but he was being awfully friendly . Maybe even more than that…” I muttered, then shook my head before I could let my thoughts go any further. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but Beckham immediately told me he didn’t like or trust him either.”
Kira pondered for a moment. “And you think it’s justified to side with the man trying to pry you away from your husband?”
“Be that as it may, he’s always told me the truth about his intentions. I have no idea what to expect with the duo of my narcissistic husband and my loan shark, who has all of a sudden tried to play the caring friend card. At least with Beckham, I know where I stand.”
“Fair point.” However, as Kira looked over to the door, her face suddenly paled. “God, your husband is literally a walking jumpscare.”
My eyes darted over to the glass. Consequently, I noticed a familiar face, one I wasn’t quite ready to see.
Walking over to my office was Gavin with a bouquet of roses, chatting to someone beside him. Unfortunately, the person he was speaking to made my pulse quicken. His smile and laugh sent shivers down my spine: Beckham, the very man tearing my marriage apart.
As they walked over, Kira turned away to coincidentally occupy herself with something on my desk as I stood, immediately toying with my wedding ring. God, this thing feels so loose, almost like it’s ready to slip right off.
My office door opened, and I smiled as I walked over to Gavin. Ignoring Beckham’s gaze, I pulled Gavin into a hug as he chuckled.
“Gav, I thought you would be coming home later.” I smiled.
He placed a small kiss on my cheek. “Thought I’d come to surprise you at work, see what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone.”
I held my almost wavering grin in place as Kira cocked an eyebrow before she looked away, well aware of what I had been occupying myself with while Gavin was in another state.
“That reminds me…” Gavin began, holding up the bouquet of flowers. “Could you give us a moment, Kira?”
She smiled as she stood from the edge of my desk. “Of course, Gav… Rose, I’ll be right outside.”
I knew that was code for “I’m going to be listening to every single word regardless of whether or not your shitty husband kicked me out of the room.”
Right. So maybe those weren’t her exact words, but I could very well imagine her saying them.
When Kira had gone, Gavin launched straight into it.
“I was thinking about us the entire trip, Rose, and I want us to get back to where we used to be.”
I immediately gave a side-eye through the glass to Beckham, who was simply watching with his arms crossed patiently.
Gavin didn’t notice.
“We should have dinner… just the two of us.” He proposed, “A fresh start. Beckham suggested a beautiful restaurant that recently opened up downtown; it’d be perfect. What do you say?”
I slowly grabbed the flowers as his arm rested around my waist. The weight of Beckham’s stare didn’t waver as I placed a small kiss on his lips.
Dinner at a restaurant to start anew. Obviously, it would take more than an expensive dinner to get us to a good place, but it was a start. For our relationship and for me to get away from the tempting incubus that lived rent-free in my mind and on my skin.
“Sounds perfect,” I responded softly as I lifted the roses to smell their beautiful fragrance. The scent was intoxicating, sweet enough to drown in, their beauty effortless, undeniable. Like the illusion of our marriage, something I clung to despite the thorns lying just beneath the surface, waiting to draw blood.
And yet, I held them anyway.
It was a start.