Chapter 13 #2
“Is this some sick little game for you?” she spat back, her nostrils flaring as she must have forgotten we had an audience. It was the only explanation, because otherwise, she wouldn’t be acting this way. Nothing less than demure in the face of company. “How long have you not been wearing it?”
Ignoring her question, I lifted a hand between us and placed it on her cheek, cupping it.
Her eyes fluttered on a heavy sigh. Again, she wanted to lean into me.
“What are you so afraid of?” I asked, planning on remembering how soft her skin felt, how every muscle in her body could loosen. Interestingly enough, her back was no longer ramrod straight. The pole that had been stuck up her cute ass must have found its way out.
She let out a metallic laugh. “That January isn’t going to come fast enough.”
I snorted. “Doesn’t matter. It’s in a drawer,” I admitted, finally addressing her many questions about my wedding band.
It all seemed like a moot point, considering she’d only just noticed I wasn’t wearing it.
You’d think a wife would pick up on how her husband’s ring finger was naked.
Not acting as a symbol in the world to say I’m taken.
“What were you thinking? People are going to see that in the photos.”
It felt like déjà vu with her. “Good thing I count on people’s incredible obliviousness. You should too.”
“People notice things like that.”
“Funny. You didn’t.”
“How about we use your passion in a few other poses?” the photographer asked, interrupting us with her ridiculously high-pitched voice that was beginning to grind my gears. “Nick, would you like to place a hand on her cheek? Then maybe we can try some—”
Candy’s eyes widened before she turned to the woman, her eyes were blazing with a fire that burned so bright I thought it would incinerate everything in our midst. “Are you blithely unaware that we’re having a conversation?
Never mind the fact that I believe I asked for no more direction. That goes for my husband as well.”
“Would you like to take a break, or—”
I placed a hand up to stop this egregious nonsense from going any further. “We’ll be continuing. My wife can talk to me later. We have nothing more to say at the moment.”
“Nothing more to say?” Candy rolled her lips intensely and ground her teeth.
The woman cleared her throat and blinked, watching us both closely.
We weren’t circus animals, and we weren’t going to do any tricks, so she might as well have gotten on with this session.
“I know you said no direction, but what if I showed you how to do a baby in a cradle?” The corners of her lips curled upward.
“I think it would make for a fabulous group of photos.”
I didn’t know what the hell a baby in a cradle was, but I had never heard anything sound so outrageously stupid in my life. “Yeah, we won’t be doing that,” I replied, shutting it down myself.
“Okayyy.” She gestured for us to come closer together. “Why don’t you two lovebirds simply do your own thing, hmm?”
Wow, so what my wife had already suggested?
I’d never met a real-life prodigy before.
“What a novel idea,” I said, finally letting go of Candy and turning completely so I was facing the woman who called herself an expert at taking photos.
“Here’s another one. Leave us alone for a bit,” I said, suddenly more than a little annoyed by this whole thing.
Candy shook her head. “We haven’t leaned against the piano yet. That’s where I believe the bulk of the salvageable photos will come from. At this point, combing through this gallery is going to prove to be an unmanageable nightmare.”
“Don’t worry. I’m legally stuck with my unmanageable nightmare.”
“You know what?” Candy cleared her throat and arched her back, her tits pushing toward me.
“I trust we have enough photos. It’ll make do.
” And the award for kindest soul goes to…
Candy Crane. *applause* “Thank you for your time this year,” she said cordially, dismissing the photographer with a flick of her wrist.
The woman nodded slowly as though something wasn’t computing, but began packing up her gear and leaving. I had a feeling if we weren’t getting a divorce, then next year we would need to find ourselves a new photographer.
“Well, had I known this was going to turn out this way, I would have settled for searching for the pebble in my shoe,” I said, leisurely meandering over to the piano and snagging my whiskey.
Hello, old friend. “You know what our marriage has in common with a glass of this good stuff?” I held it up, studying the colored liquid with concentration, enough to make it seem like I was waiting for it to show me my future.
Unfortunately, things weren’t that simple.
Candy rubbed her forehead, the off-the-shoulder sleeve of her fine as hell dress inching up with the movement.
I’d always been a pussy man, loved them, couldn’t get enough of them actually.
Not just any pussy would do for me, though.
No, I craved my wife’s. Hers was like no other, and I’d tasted it so many times that you’d think I would have had my fill, been sick of it, and wanted to move on.
That wasn’t the case by a long-fucking-shot.
Although when it came to Candy, I wasn’t just a pussy man.
I was a let-me-nip-bite-suck-and-lick-every-inch-of-you man.
The artificial light from the intricate crystal chandelier that hung in the room bounced off her petite, bare shoulder, causing my eyes to gravitate there. My pulse quickened, the blood seeming to pump through my veins at an accelerated rate.
Candy was talking. I knew she was because every now and again I’d hear a murmur, but didn’t catch anything substantial to string the words together to make a coherent statement I could respond to.
“Hello?” Candy nearly shrieked, a decibel louder than her usual as she manically waved her hands in front of my face.
I took a step back, and the back of my knees came in contact with the seat at the piano.
Her face contorted, a grimace teasing her lips. “Are you having a stroke? Maybe an aneurysm? Because if that’s the case, then I haven’t the faintest idea how to help you.”
Gesturing with my glass, I shook my head and sat, exhaling comfortably. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“No, Nick.” She groaned, rolling her eyes and swiveling on her heel as she made a dramatic turn before facing me again. “Contrary to what you might believe, I do not wish you dead or that anything ill falls upon you. I do love you, you know?”
“In your own way,” I grumbled, glancing down at the glass. Love had never been the problem, though.
She squinted. “What?”
It was a good thing she didn’t catch that. I wouldn’t go repeating it. It’d only cause us to enter a never-ending discussion that would make me want to hang myself by my toes. So, maybe that was a stretch, but it seemed less painful than the former.
Arching a brow, she examined me, her eyes traveling across my face. “Are you going to spit out the rest of your thought? What does that silly glass of whiskey have in common with us?”
A roar of laughter escaped me, my voice a low rumble as I explained. “It’s delicious, but it doesn’t last.” I leaned forward, bringing the glass to my lips and swigging the rest back. “Empty.”
She gasped lightly, and had I not been zeroed in on her and every move she was making, I might have missed it.
“That’s your opinion.” She spoke softly, and for a second, not even a second, I thought I caught the ghost of tears glittering in her eyes.
She sucked in, though, and the only thing left behind was the rapid rising and falling of her chest. Perhaps it did sadden her, or it didn’t, and she had something in her eye, but she was definitely angry.
“You’re pissed,” I noted, my heart hammering in my chest as I wanted so badly to go over there, take her in my arms, and kiss her breathless, senseless.
If I had it my way, I’d kiss her so goddamn hard and skillfully that her knees would weaken, and she’d have trouble standing on her own two feet.
Candy wasn’t one to need assistance, having come into her own in more ways than one since the girl I’d met who couldn’t manage to hail a taxi.
So it would be a nice change from the norm.
She cracked her neck, rolling her head like it wasn’t attached to her body. “I can’t possibly be upset, Nick.”
“No, because anger is an emotion.”
She ground her teeth and narrowed her gaze. “I don’t believe we’re empty, which is a pitiful metaphor anyway.” She cleared her throat and crossed her arms. “And what was that supposed to mean? Are you saying I have no emotion?” She was fuming now.
Good.
When I didn’t answer, she released an exasperated sigh.
“You can sit here and waste away the rest of the day, but I have a multitude of things to accomplish before sunset.” Making a move to turn on her heel, she nodded, signaling the period of a sentence for her.
“I’ll see you this evening over dinner.”
No she doesn’t. I got up, moving swiftly like a cat, and stood in front of her. I wasn’t about to let her leave. She knew it too. Not that she couldn’t sidestep me. I really wasn’t holding her to this spot, to this moment, here with me. But she didn’t move.
Not.
An.
Inch.
Her placid expression did nothing to give her away, but the way she was playing with her fingers, raking them across each other as if to feel how clammy they were, did.
“Show me we’re not empty,” I pushed, daring her to defy her iciness if only but for a moment so that we could remember what we had once been like.
She gulped, her throat bobbing with the least elegant move I’d ever seen her make.
Tempting her, I reached my thumb up and ran it across her bottom lip a few times, watching as she shut her eyes. “Nick, I’m not in the mood for your games.”
“It’s not a game, Candy cane.”
Her eyes snapped open faster than a cork flew from a champagne bottle with just the right touch. Her lips parted on a loud exhale, and my thumb dipped in her mouth. She had the control. She could do whatever she wanted.
The first thing she did was swipe her tongue across my thumb, tasting me.
“We’re not empty,” she said forcefully, raking her teeth over my thumb before nipping at the skin.
“If that’s what you say.”
“That’s such a condesc—”
I pulled my thumb from her, smirking cockily, and hoisted her up and over my shoulder with one arm.
“Nick, put me down this instant.”
Let me think about that. Yeah, no. I didn’t think I’d be doing that. Not until I took her where I wanted her. “This piano is as useless as most of the miscellaneous shit in this house, but I’ve come up with an idea of how we can make it useful.”
“And what’s that?”
I grunted as I sat her down on top of the piano. “Spread your legs wide for me, and I’ll show you the only hobby I need.”