Chapter 6
SIX
ROMAN
Ididn’t know what the fuck I was doing.
I didn’t know why I reached out to her or why I stopped her. It wasn’t something I thought about before I did. It was pure reaction.
I meant the things I said to her. I had been thinking a lot over the week, and she was right.
Just because I couldn’t give Sophia what she needed didn’t mean that she had to go without it, especially if I had the means to give it to her.
She didn’t need the things that money could buy.
She had all that. She needed family, love, and understanding.
She needed to know her aunt, grandmother, and grandfather.
She needed to know her mother, and the only way that would ever happen was by spending time with the people who made her mother who she was.
I ignored the way touching Sasha brought my body to life. I willed the ache in my chest to fade away, and I took a deep breath and turned my attention to my wife’s grave directly before me. Guilt had surged through me.
Her mom used one of our wedding photos as her image. She said it was the happiest she’d ever seen Chloe, and I liked to think that I had something to do with that.
I loved that photo of her because it showed me how much she loved me, how much she loved our life together.
Standing in front of her headstone only made me realize how much I suddenly hated that photo.
It was a reminder of someone I’d always miss and never see again.
I’d never get to see that smile or the sparkle in her blue eyes.
I’d never get to taste those lips or run my fingers through her silky blonde hair.
I’d never feel her body pressed against mine.
I was doomed to hate myself for the rest of the years I was left to rot without her.
I walked over and dropped the flowers onto the headstone. I then placed my hand on the cold stone, my heart aching.
“I already know everything you’d say, and I’m pretty sure you know everything I’m thinking.” Tears stung my eyes, and I shook my head.
“I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing here,” I muttered as I turned to walk away.
I knew that I had to let her go at some point, but I didn’t know how to do that.
I didn’t know how to heal or how to move forward with a life without her.
All I’d ever known was her. Even thinking about letting her go once and for all caused my body to fill with rage, and that rage manifested into the ugliest parts of me.
The parts that craved booze and women. I knew that I’d be ashamed of myself later, but it didn’t stop me.
When those feelings came creeping up, I knew I’d bury them deeper with even more whiskey.
I pulled out my phone and texted Casey as I got into my car.
ROMAN: You busy right now?
Thunder rolled over my car, lightning cracked in the distance, and then the sky opened up and started to pour. I was taking in the sky from the safety of my car when my phone chimed.
CASEY: I’m already booked, Roman.
I rolled my eyes as I let the phone fall to my lap. It chimed again, and I picked it up to read the newest text.
CASEY: I have a friend. You’ll like her. She’s new. Want me to have her meet you?”
I took a deep breath and shook my head at myself for even considering it. I typed out a response, declining her offer, but then my cock throbbed as if I needed to be reminded to take care of my bodily needs. I deleted the response and typed out something new.
ROMAN: Have her meet me at Fill-Moore Bar. I have five hundred in cash to take her to the bar’s bathroom if she’s there within the hour.
I shifted into drive and stepped on the gas, slowly driving down the paved path in the cemetery. I stopped at the end to check for traffic, and my phone went off again.
CASEY: She’ll be there.
Perfect.
I turned onto the street and made my way toward the bar.
The sky was completely black by the time I arrived.
The bar wasn’t packed, but there were several cars in the parking lot.
I made my way inside and found several people sitting around the bar while a few others played pool or a game of darts.
I took a seat at the bar, away from everyone, and I kept my attention on the TV that hung above the bar until the bartender was standing in front of me.
I ordered a double shot of whiskey while I dug my wallet out of my back pocket.
I pulled out a hundred dollars and dropped it on the bar.
The drinking establishment was relatively small and off the beaten path.
It was where mostly older people went for a quiet night out.
There were never any young people playing loud music and dancing.
People knew that if you came in and sat alone, you didn’t want to be bothered, and they respected that.
So, after the bartender brought me back my drink and change, he walked away, leaving me to enjoy it without hassle or trying to carry on a conversation.
Even though it looked like I wasn’t paying attention to anything but my drink and the TV, I was really watching every move in the bar.
This is how I noticed when the back door quietly opened.
A woman with long, dark hair walked in, wearing a tight-fitting dress.
She stopped just inside the door and scanned the scene before her.
I threw back what was left of my drink, and then I stood and walked toward the bathroom in the back, making eye contact with her so she’d know to follow me.
In the small, single-person bathroom, I turned and held the door, watching her follow me until she stepped into the small space.
“You’re Casey’s friend?”
She nodded. “Sarah.”
Sarah.
I raked my eyes down her body and back up. She looked good enough. She wasn’t too tall, wasn’t too thin, had curves where they were needed, and she had long, black hair that I was already imagining winding around my fist.
I took a step toward her, and she took a step back, putting her hand up between our faces. “I believe you promised five hundred if I could get here within the hour. I want to be paid up front, please.” The hand she held upright between us flattened as I placed the money in her palm.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, but I pulled out my wallet and counted out five hundred bucks into her palm.
I might not have liked it, but I understood why someone in her position needed to get the money up front.
She smiled wider as I laid out each of the one-hundred-dollar bills.
After the last one, she tucked the cash away.
“Thank you. Now, what can I do for you?”
I pulled a condom out of my wallet. “You can shut up and turn around.”
She arched her brow. “Whatever you say.”
She turned around so I could see her face in the mirror on the wall.
I unfastened my jeans and pushed them over my hips. My cock sprang free, half hard.
“Pull up your dress.” I ripped the condom open with my teeth while watching her wiggle her hips from side to side as she yanked her dress up. It was a tight-fitting dress, so once she got it up to her stomach, it stayed there. My eyes stayed on her rounded ass and black thong.
“Panties down.”
She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and pulled them down. Once they were around her knees, she rested her hands on the sink in front of her and leaned forward.
I slid the condom into place and ran my fingers between her folds, rubbing gentle circles around her clit to bring her body to life.
Our eyes met in the mirror, and I watched as she closed them.
I diverted mine, not wanting to see her face.
I never liked to look them in the face. Even though I had honored my vows and stayed faithful to my wife until she passed, it still felt as if I was cheating on her, and if I thought about that too much while I was with someone else, my dick would go limp.
I didn’t even know how many times I’d paid for blue balls over the years, because, believe it or not, once the escorts were paid, they didn’t give refunds, whether you got off or not.
I took myself in hand and guided my tip to her entrance. Taking a step closer, I buried my nose in her silky strands of raven colored hair. I inhaled deeply as I thrusted forward, earning a breathy gasp from her lips.
I wrapped my right arm around her waist, holding her body close to mine. My hand started sliding up her body to collect her hair at the nape of her neck. With her skin there exposed, I gently bit her flesh as I wound her hair around my fist. I jerked inside her, going deeper.
The guilt I usually had to ignore wasn’t what I was feeling. Instead of guilt, I felt anger and annoyance.
Sasha’s words had been on repeat in my head since our meeting the week before.
I knew how badly I was fucking everything up, and fucking someone else was my way of dealing.
In the last week, I’d been with Casey three different times, I’d gone out Saturday night, and Sarah had made seven.
I could usually stretch my need to get laid once every two or three weeks, but something had happened in the last week that had me burying my anger in someone’s pussy.
I knew exactly what it was, too.
It was Sasha.
Having her walk into my life, fighting the way she did, lit a flame under me.
I hadn’t been challenged in a long time.
Everyone in my life was a yes-man, and I had nothing to fight for, nobody to fight against. Then she entered my office and challenged everything: the way I lived my life, the way I raised my daughter, the way I was healing from the loss of my wife.
Instead of telling me I was doing everything right or making excuses for me, she called me out on my bullshit the way Chloe used to.
What was it with the Willis women? Why did they think they were always right? Why were they always right?
The deeper my thoughts went, the faster my hips moved.
With my guilt silent for the moment, my anger was prominent, and I used it to fuck her harder, faster.
I noticed the way her hands were grabbing the edges of the porcelain sink—her fingernails painted black and chipping.
Black nails, black dress, black hair… It all made me think of Sasha, and that shot a jolt of pleasure through my body as I’d never felt before.
Something about thinking of someone I could never touch caused my dick to thicken further in anticipation.
Thinking of punishing her for the things she said to me made my orgasm begin to build.
I clenched my eyes shut and imagined that it was her I had in front of me.
I wanted to punish her for making the last week a living hell.
I wanted to make her pay for saying that shit to me, for talking to me with so much disrespect in my own goddamn house.
My impending orgasm teased me more as I fucked her harder. She came undone before me, her pussy clenching my dick in waves as her release washed through her. Her come ran down her legs just as mine escaped me.
I bit my lower lip as I shuddered inside her, pumping my load into the condom not once, not twice, but three times.
My ears began to ring as my hips slowed to a stop.
I was breathless with my heart pounding against my chest. Every muscle began to loosen and relax, the pain and the weight of the day finally falling away. I felt like a whole new man.
That was, until I opened my eyes and saw that nothing had changed.
My life was still utter shit, and there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it.
All I could do was pull up my pants and drive back to the city, stay in my penthouse, far away from the child I knew I was fucking up and the woman who was apparently going to call me out on all my bullshit.
And know that I was never going to be happy again.