9. Astrid
I held the flute of champagne in my hand and eyed the hors d’oeuvres spread on the table, little pieces of bruschetta and filet mignon wrapped in crispy bacon. I’d already had enough to make my dress tighten over my stomach so I should exercise some self-control, but I was also bored.
Bolton was across the room, sitting in one of the armchairs, talking to his older brother with a glass of red wine in his hand. His light-colored hair was combed back away from his face, showing off the handsome features that made me fall for him the moment I saw him. He wore a serious expression, but his eyes had a light that never faded.
I still loved him despite the suggestion that broke my heart, but it was changing, slowly drowning with resentment and anger…and self-loathing. The worst part of this was knowing I wasn’t enough for him. That his desires had to be supplemented with women I didn’t have the courage to ask about.
“You alright?” Denise, my sister-in-law, walked over.
“Yeah.” I covered my consternation with a false smile. “Just trying not to eat all your appetizers like a fat-ass.”
She smirked. “You’re not a fat-ass, Astrid.”
But I wasn’t a fine piece of ass either, the kind that Bolton wanted to keep all to himself.
She continued to watch me. “You sure you’re alright?”
“Just had too much champagne. It’s always been my weakness.”
Denise accepted my explanation. “Michael tells me you guys are thinking about starting a family.”
Bolton told him? Did he also tell him the other thing we’d started? “Yep, it’s on the table.”
“That’s exciting. I was so nervous when our first one came, but once he was here, it all just came together. We knew what to do.”
“And I’m sure a nanny helped with that,” I teased.
“Oh, definitely,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m a grouch without sleep, and Michael is even worse.”
I used to see Bolton’s family as my family, the family I’d never had, but now everything felt different. The connection that bonded us had been severed by his desires. I hated to admit it, but I even felt differently toward my niece and nephew. I didn’t have a family of my own, and I really believed in-laws would be enough, but I realized nothing would ever come close to a blood relative. All Bolton had to do was fuck someone else, and everything came unraveled.
“I’m sorry. I know I’ve asked twice already, but you just have this look in your eye…”
My eyes found hers again.
“Like you go somewhere else, somewhere sad.”
I forced that smile to come back. “The gallery has been really hectic lately. Just got a lot on my mind.”
“Well, you don’t have to work.”
“I know. But I want to.” I needed something that was just mine. I’d thought Bolton was mine, but he only wanted to be mine part time. “Need something to do while Bolton is away.” Something other than the dark hunk who brought me to life with his electric touch.
Bolton talked about Michael on the way home. “Said we should all take a trip to Paris this summer. The kids are old enough now.”
“Yeah, that would be fun.”
He drove with one hand on the wheel, but his other hand didn’t reach for my thigh. “What did you and Denise talk about?”
“Work…kids.” I liked Denise, but I had been in the mood to sit alone and eat in a corner.
“I told Michael we were thinking about trying.”
“Yeah, she mentioned it.”
He approached a stoplight and brought the car to a slow stop. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“You wanna start trying?”
My heart dropped into my stomach with dread. It was the same feeling of terror I felt when things heated up with Theo, the heavy realization that I was about to cross a line I could never uncross. But this was a different level, an anxiety that went from zero to sixty in a nanosecond. “Um…” I’d been on birth control a long time and continued to take it. Once I stopped taking it, I didn’t know what would happen. Would I get pregnant right away, or would it take a year?
The light turned green, and he continued down the road. “That sounds like a no.” Disappointment was heavy in his voice as he grabbed the wheel with both hands.
I didn’t know what to say, so I focused my gaze out the window and ignored him in my peripheral. My pulse raced, and despite the cold, I felt sweat on my palms.
Bolton let the conversation die, but the tension was very much alive.
We parked in the underground garage then entered our villa, the light low because only a few lamps were lit. I hung my jacket on the coatrack and slipped off my heels by the door.
Bolton didn’t have a jacket, so he immediately took a seat in the living room.
I moved to the stairs so I could go to our bedroom and get ready for bed.
“Astrid.”
I froze on the first step.
His back was to me. “Sit with me.” He didn’t raise his voice, but there was a hint of a threat there.
I took a breath before I walked into the living room, moving behind the back of one of the couches before I came around and took a seat. I was on a different couch from him, our bodies perpendicular to each other. I crossed my ankles and sat with bumps on my arms.
His stare burned into the side of my face.
I didn’t want to look at him.
“Astrid.”
I obeyed his command and met his gaze. He was a handsome man who could get any woman he wanted. But he was lean and toned, an athletic build like a soccer player, and Theo was…like a bull. Muscle on top of muscle, with dark ink over the burning hot skin, with that dark hair like midnight. The men couldn’t be more different, and now I couldn’t stop comparing them. Theo was taller, quieter, and even his…package was bigger. The difference in size was substantial enough that I noticed it every time Bolton and I were together, even though I hadn’t actually slept with Theo. Having him in my mouth was enough.
His eyes burned into mine, treating me like an enemy he was about to interrogate. “You were the one pressuring me to have a family. Now you’ve changed your mind?”
“I haven’t changed my mind?—”
“So, you want to do this.”
“I-I just need some time?—”
“So, you don’t want to do this?” he pressed.
“Just because I don’t want to do it right this second doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it at all.”
He hadn’t blinked once since the interrogation started. “Then what changed?”
“Having a kid is a big responsibility.”
“You’ve been hounding me for six months about this.”
“I’m just not sure if having a baby when you’re still in your line of work is a good idea.”
His eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “We talked about this. I’m not leaving my job, Astrid.”
“Okay, then I need more time to think about it.”
“Nothing will happen to either of you, I promise.”
“You can’t make that kind of promise.”
“I’ve got a lot of enemies, but no one has ever knocked on your front door, baby.” His voice rose slightly. “I’ve seen the way your eyes glaze over when I speak. I feel the distance in your touch. You spent more time with the hors d’oeuvres than you did with us. Something is wrong, and you must think me a fool not to notice.”
My eyes flicked away as I felt the weight on my shoulders. The air was suddenly too thick to breathe, like it was humid and mixed with smoke. He had me cornered, and there was no escape with this man.
“You said you were fine with it, Astrid.”
I still wouldn’t look at him.
“Those are your words.”
“I’m aware of what I said.”
“But you clearly aren’t,” he said. “I can see that.”
A part of me wanted to burst and tell him it killed me inside, that I’d been broken ever since the moment he’d admitted his desire for other women. It was a hit to my confidence, an axe to my heart. I could make it all stop right now if I asked for it to stop, but if I did…that meant I would never see Theo again. That meant his dark eyes would never pierce my flesh. He would never kiss me like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Those big hands would never squeeze my hips again, never squeeze my tits. Now, everything was complicated because I was invested in a man who wasn’t my husband. To get what I wanted from Bolton, I would have to let Theo go…and I just couldn’t do that.
It made me feel like shit, but then I remembered none of this was my fault.
It was his fault. “It’s been hard to adjust to the change, I admit that. But I’m okay with it.” I looked at him as I said it because I needed my sincerity to come through. Weeks ago, I’d just wanted my marriage back. I was ready to walk away from Theo…until Bolton walked in with lipstick on his neck. That was the catalyst for all the events that led to this moment, made me desire a man more than I’d ever desired anyone, including the man beside me. “But I do think it’s strange to try for a family when we’ve just started this arrangement.”
Bolton peered into my face, his blue eyes like the lens of a microscope, analyzing everything. “If it works for us, it’s not strange.”
“Do you even want a family?”
“Of course I do.”
“But do you actually want it, or are you just doing it because your brother has kids, because that’s the next stage in life? You’re gone a lot, and you won’t see them much. You don’t want to change that?”
“My job is to provide for my family. To put our kids in private school. To give them the best lives they could possibly have. Maybe they’ll be disappointed when they’re young, but when they’re older, they’ll understand and be grateful.”
I’d rather have my father around than attend an expensive school with snobby kids. That was just my opinion.
“Baby.”
My eyes had drifted away and came back to him.
“If you ever want this to end, all you have to do is tell me. You understand that, right?” His eyes bored into mine again. “Because I love you with my whole heart. These women mean nothing to me—but you mean everything.”
Women. Plural. There’d been different lovers in his bed—and I hadn’t even slept with Theo. Guilt and obligation had restrained me. I couldn’t just jump into bed with someone else so quickly, not the way he could. But I meant everything to him?
He searched my face, wanting my answer.
“Yes,” I said with forced calm. “I understand.”
The second Bolton was out of the house, I fired off a text. CanIcomeover?
The three dots were instant. ImeantwhatIsaid, sweetheart. His deep voice sounded in my head as I read the words, the subtle threat that he somehow made gentle.
I didn’t feel the anxiety anymore. Didn’t feel the moral injury. I felt nothing at all, no guilt or shame. The tight handcuffs on my wrists had sprung free. WhydoyouthinkIwanttocomeover?
Thengetyourassoverhere.
I packed my bag and drove to his place fifteen minutes away, south of the Duomo. The gates automatically opened when my car pulled up, and I left my car down below in his underground garage.
He had an elevator that rose to the ground floor, so I stepped into his beautiful villa and was immediately smothered by his distinct presence. The hardwood floors were made of walnut, so they almost looked black. The décor that someone else had picked out was all in shades that matched his exterior, dark and complex.
George didn’t come out to greet me, so I headed to the stairs to begin my journey to the top floor, but when I heard his deep voice, I stilled.
It came from the study, the one where his artwork hung. I hesitated before I turned back and approached the double doors that were partially open.
“Tell him a deal’s a deal.” Theo’s voice was calm but deep with anger. “If he doesn’t want to honor it like a man, then I won’t honor my end of the deal either.”
I stopped when I realized I’d just stepped into the underworld, the world that Bolton barely mentioned to me. The only evidence I witnessed was the interactions he had with people at parties or at dinners. It didn’t feel so threatening when I wasn’t part of it, and I thought that was intentional on Bolton’s part.
Theo seemed to fire off a list to someone who listened. “Talk to Fender. I know he’s out of the game, but that man still knows shit. He still knows all the big players because he’ll always be the biggest player there ever was. And if the Colombians are still giving us pushback, tell them I’ll personally pay them a visit.” There was a pause before he spoke again. “Sweetheart, get in here.”
I was blocked from view by one of the doors, but he somehow knew I was there. I rounded the corner and entered the room, Theo sitting in his usual armchair with a lit cigar resting between his fingertips. In just his gray sweatpants, he commanded the room with that skull ring on his left hand. There were two other guys, both smoking as they sat on each of the couches. Neither one of them looked at me. I stepped inside, my bag over my shoulder, feeling completely out of place.
“Octavio.” He nodded to one guy. Then he nodded to the other. “Nico.”
Both of them looked at me in acknowledgment.
“Guys, this is Astrid.”
“Hey.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was obvious I’d come over there to get fucked by this man, and the bag over my shoulder showed that I intended to stay until morning. It was his house, so there was no reason to be embarrassed, but nonetheless, I was.
“We’re done here, gentlemen.” Theo looked at me as he spoke.
The guys put out their cigars before they filed out of the room. They didn’t look at me as they passed me on the way out.
The room was like an ashtray, smoke visible all the way to the top of the high ceiling.
I entered the room and glanced at the artwork that was still hanging. “I didn’t realize you were busy.”
“I’m always busy.” He brought the cigar to his lips and pulled the smoke into his mouth before he smashed the cigar into the ashtray. “I just ignore everything when you walk into the room.” The smoke left his mouth with his next breath, clouds of gray drifting above his head.
I knew he smoked because I could taste it on his tongue when I kissed him, but it was different from cigarette smoke. It had flavors of licorice and chocolate and a hint of coffee.
When he rose from the armchair, I was reminded of how tall he was, that my highest heels were still no match for this behemoth. He stepped toward me and circled his arm around the small of my back, pulling me into him for a soft kiss on the mouth.
My eyes shut when I felt his kiss, and I was suddenly taken to a sandy beach at sunset, the air warm around me, my skin kissed by heat. My hand moved to his bicep and felt the hunk of muscle there as I rose on my tiptoes, hooking my other arm around his neck for support.
When he felt my enthusiasm, his big hand moved to my ass and squeezed it hard. He kissed me hard too, his fingers digging into my flesh through my jeans. His mouth parted my lips, and he gave me a swipe of his tongue, turning a simple kiss into a passionate one, his other hand diving into my hair to fist the strands.
Fuck, he was a good kisser. He took his time, made every embrace purposeful, squeezed my body so hard it nearly left a bruise. He made me feel desired without saying a word, showed his desperation for me with so little, but also so much.
When he pulled away, his eyes were on my lips, like he might kiss me again. His fingers were still deep in my hair, and he cradled my head the way he wanted, my chin up so I could meet his gaze. He handled me like a rag doll that he could twist and turn and leave on the floor, but at the same time, he handled me like a delicate rose.
He reached for the bag stuffed with clothes and makeup and put it over his shoulder before he took my hand. He guided me up the stairs and into his suite, but instead of stopping in the living room where we usually sat together, he took my bag into his bedroom and set it on an armchair near the window.
I slowly entered his bedroom, eyeing his four-poster bed and the mahogany nightstands on either side. A large rug covered the hardwood floor and complemented the other colors in his room, the gray and the maroon.
My heart raced, not in fear, but with excitement.
He came back to me, thick arms at his sides, his eyes like hooks that sank into my flesh. He stopped before me, his head angled down to meet my gaze because our height difference was even more apparent in my flats. He was almost a foot and a half taller than me and at least two times my size, maybe even three.
His hand went to my neck, and his thumb traced my bottom lip until it rested in the corner. His hold was firm and threatening, like there was no way I could escape his grasp unless he allowed it. “Last chance, sweetheart.” He gave me a harder squeeze, like he expected me to try to leave.
My face turned into his hand, and I kissed his thumb.
His eyes narrowed in a subtle look of desire.
I turned more and kissed the inside of his palm, the callused skin over his fingers. He smelled like a fresh shower with a hint of pine. I gave him my kiss, gave him my body, handed it all over for him to take.
His fingers relaxed as I kissed him, but then they hardened around my neck again as he brought me into him for a deeper kiss. His hand supported the back of my head as he dipped down to kiss me, the Eiffel Tower bending down to kiss the Seine. The disparity in our height made it difficult for us to embrace without my heels, so he scooped me up in his powerful arms and gently lifted me into him, our chests together.
His kiss deepened further, his powerful mouth taking the reins of the embrace. His big hands squeezed my ass as he held me to him, turning his head to kiss me at a different angle, swiping his tongue in my mouth before he breathed his life into me.
I melted like butter in a hot pan, aroused by that momentous kiss, the way he held me so effortlessly because he lifted weights heavier than me every day. My arms hooked around his neck, and I kissed this man with a rush of unbridled passion, the kind of desperation that made my lips quiver, made my knees go weak. He swept me off my feet, literally, and brought me into a clandestine heaven.
Instead of rushing me to the bed, he kissed me like that for a long time, his desire not thwarted by the burden of my weight. He tugged me into him so I could feel the outline of his dick in his sweatpants, the monster cock that was about to pound inside me…if it would fit.
He carried me to the bed then gently laid me down as he rolled on top of me, continuing the kiss because the transition was so smooth. The mattress sank underneath me with his weight, making it dip below me. My legs were still hooked around his hips, and I was anxious for my jeans to come off so I could squeeze the hot skin of his core.
My hands planted on his chest, and I felt stone covered in skin, felt a brick wall that lived and breathed. My mouth continued to cherish his as his hand dug into my hair and fisted it, tightening his hold like there was a chance I would slip away.
My hands reached for his hips and tried to push down his sweatpants, but he was so long, it was hard for me to reach when my crossed ankles sat at the top of his lower back.
He grabbed my shirt and yanked it up to expose my bra. He dipped his head and kissed my sternum as he continued to lift the fabric and draw it up my arms. Then he smothered my tits with kisses as he pulled down the straps of my bra to make them come free.
I tried to reach for his sweatpants again, but they were just out of reach.
He pulled away and rested on the balls of his feet as he unbuttoned my jeans and yanked down the zipper. He tugged them hard, dragging my body along with the jeans before the denim left my hips and ass. He got them to my ankles, and I kicked off my flats, letting them thud against the rug.
He moved for my pink thong and hooked his thumbs in the band before he tugged it free, pulling it down my legs and to my ankles. He left it there before he moved between my legs, his shoulders making themselves at home between my knees as he pressed a gentle kiss to my aching lips.
My back immediately arched when I felt that hot kiss. “God…”
He kissed me the way he kissed my mouth, separating my folds with his tongue and swiping at the anxious nub tucked away. He sucked it hard into his mouth and gave a gentle bite before he moved over me again, reaching behind my back and unclasping the bra so it was finally free.
I was completely naked underneath him, and he pressed a trail of kisses up my body until he made it back to my lips.
I growled into his mouth.
He pulled away slightly and looked into my eyes. “What is it, sweetheart?”
I sat up slightly and forced him back, grabbing his sweatpants and tugging them down.
He smirked, and the twinkle in his eye was brighter than a shooting star—and passed just as quickly. He helped me remove them the rest of the way before his monster cock sprang free, the kind that would stretch the condom until it nearly burst. When he was naked, he moved on top of me again, squeezing between my thighs and pressing his fat dick right against my clit.
I sucked in a deep breath because it felt as good as his kiss.
He ground against me, his face just inches from mine, watching me breathe hard every time he rubbed his hard dick against me, giving me the kind of friction that was better than my hand.
My hands went to his bulging biceps, and I dug my fingers into the skin as he dipped his head and kissed me. His tongue was immediately in my mouth as he ground against me, his length starting to pick up the slickness from my opening and smear it over my clit. Over and over, he did that, pushing the perfect pressure into my nub and making me tighten from the pleasure.
My thighs squeezed his waist, and my locked ankles rested at the top of his ass. I rocked with him, starting to pant into his mouth because it felt so damn good—and he wasn’t even inside me yet. This man hadn’t even fucked me, but he’d managed to make me come twice.
My nails dug deeper into his skin, and my lips paused our kiss, unable to keep up the movements because all I could think about was the burning pleasure that thudded between my legs.
He stopped and pulled away, taking his hot, throbbing dick away from my clit.
He opened his drawer and rolled a large condom down his length.
It looked even bigger when it was wrapped in latex.
He came back, the mountain of a man casting a shadow over my body as he returned to his position on top of me. He grabbed my legs and tilted my hips, putting me in the position that he wanted me before he guided his dick to my entrance. He pushed right away, applying enormous pressure to my opening, trying to fit a square peg into a circle.
My nails dug into his arms again, and I sucked in a breath when I felt him move forward again, pushing past my opening and forcing himself deeper. He was the biggest I’d ever taken, and it was like experiencing my first time again, the anticipation of the pleasure but also the pain.
He gave another thrust and then finally started to sink, driving his tree trunk deep inside my earth, his midnight-sky eyes watching my reaction to him.
I released a cry when I felt him fully, his enormous girth stretching me as far as I could go. “Fuck…”
He tilted my hips farther, both of his arms pinned behind my knees to keep me open. His eyes were unapologetic even when he caused me pain, his desire written in the hard features of his face. He started to rock into me, moving slowly and giving my body a chance to accept his big dick. “You’ll get used to it.”
My nails were cutting like knives into his skin, and I breathed deep with every thrust, turned on by the pain because his size was so sexy. The fact that he didn’t care that it hurt was sexy too, like he knew I could handle it.
He started to thrust harder, keeping me pinned underneath him, the friction disappearing because I was soaked, a river of arousal dripping down my crack to the duvet below me.
I moaned and panted in his face, feeling the same heat deep in my belly that I felt when his dick was sliding over me. The orgasm approached like a sunrise over the horizon, and it was almost at my front door. “Theo…” Tears burned in my eyes, and I wasn’t sure if they were caused by the pain or the pleasure that was about to explode.
He moved faster, a subtle red tint marking his skin, but his breaths didn’t increase and the intensity in his eyes didn’t wane. “Almost there, sweetheart.” He leaned over me farther, our mouths almost close enough to kiss, but he did it to deepen the angle and give me a little more when he thought I could handle it.
I felt the orgasm creep up my body before it wrapped around all my bones like tendrils. The grip tightened, and then it pulled, tugged me into him, into the depths of the blissful abyss. The tears pooled an instant before, and then I came with a whimper and a cry, my nails dragging over his skin and his ink, feeling his dick pound into me harder, ruthlessly, pressing me deeper into the mattress.
It hurt, but fuck, it was the best.
He fucked me hard as I finished, as I rode the waves of pleasure until I hit the shore, a burst of ecstasy that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I wasn’t sure if it was the size of his dick or the size of the man.
When I finished, the tears dripped from the corners of my eyes and made their way to the duvet underneath.
He gave the sexiest moan before he released, filling the condom inside me, shoving himself as far as he could go and making me wince in the process. He folded my legs a little more, showing me just how flexible I could be for the right man. A flush of red moved across his chest and over his neck. He released a breath before he pulled out of me, his dick as hard as it had been when he’d entered me. He left me on the bed and stepped into the bathroom.
I lay there and felt my body crumple with exhaustion, even though I hadn’t done anything except lie there.
Theo walked back into the room a moment later and opened his nightstand. His dick was still rock hard as if nothing had happened, and he rolled another condom over his length. His knees hit the bed again, and the mattress shifted. He must have noticed the surprise in my eyes because he said, “I’m not done with you, sweetheart.”
I lay in his big bed tucked under the sheets and listened to the shower run in his bathroom. The room was dark, with the exception of the lamp on his bedside table. The soreness made me ache, but the rush of pleasure that dumped into my blood made my entire body relax like I’d just gotten a spa treatment.
Theo left the bathroom and turned off the light before he approached the bed. He pulled on a pair of black boxers, the material snug on his thick thighs and tight ass. The bulge in the front was substantial, even when his soldier was at rest.
He got into the sheets beside me before his big hand snaked over my belly. The smell of pine came over me, and the heat from his body was like having hot coals in the bed. My arm moved over his, and I felt lighter than air.
“You make it hard to leave.” Hard to leave this warm bed and this sexy man.
“Then don’t.” He lay on his side as he looked at me, his shoulder jutting to the sky like the cliff face of a mountain.
“If you don’t take a girl out to dinner, then you probably don’t have her sleep over.”
He stared at me for a while, his hand still on my stomach. “I’d tell you if I wanted you gone.”
Bolton was the only man I’d slept with in years. It should feel weird to sleep beside Theo, but it didn’t. His bed felt far more comfortable than mine. Sleeping in that villa all alone felt suffocating. That house felt less like home with every passing day. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“You have somewhere to be?”
“I have work at eleven.”
“Then that means you have time for breakfast.”
“You don’t look like you eat breakfast.”
He smirked slightly. “I eat two breakfasts, sweetheart.” He came closer to me and dragged my body into his, turning me on my side so he spooned me from behind. It was like a heater right up against my back. His arm was tight over my waist like a safety belt from a car. His face was at the back of my neck, his breaths touching my hair.
It only took a few seconds to feel my mind start to slip. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
When I woke up, Theo wasn’t there.
The bedroom was vacant but still full of his heavy absence.
I went into his bathroom and got ready for the day, taking out the toiletries from my packed bag, brushing my teeth, and doing my makeup. I’d brought a change of clothes so I could go straight to work after this. I hadn’t really planned on a sleepover, but I was prepared for it if it happened.
When I was done, Theo entered the bathroom in just a pair of workout shorts, covered in sweat, his skin tinted red the way it was during sex. His muscles were thicker than normal, plumped with blood and tension from the workout he’d just completed. Without saying a word, he came to me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Then he turned on the shower and stripped down to nothing at all before he got in.
I hadn’t stopped staring since the moment he’d stepped foot into the room.
Water cascaded down his body as he washed his face and ran the bar of soap over his muscles and chest.
I’d never been jealous of a bar of soap before.
I tried to focus on myself, but I definitely lingered unnecessarily so I could sneak peeks of him. When he used the bar on his junk, my eyes glanced back to watch, to see him clean his monster dick.
He turned off the water and reached for the towel.
I packed up my things and walked out before I made it too obvious that I was a creep.
He came out moments later in his black sweatpants. “Let’s go.”
I assumed we weren’t going out to breakfast because of the way he was dressed, so we must be eating in his dining room. I grabbed my bag so I wouldn’t have to double back for it. When I looked at my phone, I had no missed texts or calls.
In the hallway, he took the bag off my shoulder and carried it for me.
His dining room was a big space with high ceilings and open windows. It was beautiful, a long table that could accommodate twenty guests even though he seemed like someone who rarely had company.
He sat at the head of the table.
I set my bag in the seat beside me and sat down.
George already had a pot of coffee on the table along with cream and sugar, so we each had a cup. Theo took it black like his eyes, and I drenched mine in cream. Then George brought out breakfast, an egg-white omelet and strips of bacon for Theo, while I had a plate of pancakes and a savory crêpe topped with ratatouille.
We ate in silence.
“So, when do you have a second breakfast?”
“This is second breakfast.” He ate with his arms on the table. “I have a shake while I work out.”
“That’s not breakfast.” I took a bite of my buttery pancakes and wished I could eat like this every day. We could afford help if we wanted to, but it was something neither of us cared for. But now that I’d had it, I had a different opinion about it.
“It has calories. And I have to eat four thousand calories a day.”
“What?” I almost dropped my fork.
He continued to eat like that number wasn’t crazy. “That’s what I need to maintain my size.”
“I wish I could eat four thousand calories a day.”
“It sounds better than it is. I have to eat two breakfasts and two lunches.”
“Oh, poor you.”
He smirked before he took a bite.
I loved his seriousness, but those little smiles were something else. “These pancakes are fire.”
“My chef is from Paris.”
“Must be nice to have someone cook for you.”
“I don’t have the time,” he said. “Do you cook?”
“Yes, most of the time.”
“What do you make?”
Talking about the dinners I made for Bolton should make me feel like shit, but I felt nothing. “I made braised chicken and artichokes the other day. Mostly casseroles and one-pot dishes so I have less to clean.”
“Between work and cooking, when do you find time to paint?”
I gave a shrug. “I haven’t painted in a while.”
“That’s what you should be focusing on.”
I looked down at my pancakes. “My paintings aren’t very good.”
“How will they get better if you don’t keep painting?”
“Theo, you’re sweet?—”
“I’m not being sweet. If you want to be a painter, then paint. It’s that simple.”
“Making art is more complicated.”
“Nothing is complicated if you have discipline.”
I set my fork down and looked at him. “I think you’re being a little pushy.”
“You need a push, sweetheart. You said it’s your passion in life. So, either do it…or accept that it’s not your passion.” His elbows were on the table, and he looked at me as he held his fork in his grasp. “Except the second option isn’t really an option.”
I looked down at my plate again, my crêpe half-eaten. I didn’t usually eat breakfast, and I forgot how scrumptious it could be.
He let it go. “Are you free tonight?”
My gaze returned to his. “I haven’t even left, and you want to see me again?” I didn’t know where this relationship with Theo would lead, but I did wonder if he would drop me after we fucked. After he got what he wanted, he might lose interest and turn his attention elsewhere.
He took a drink of his coffee. “Is that a yes?”
Bolton wouldn’t be home until tomorrow afternoon. “Yes, I’m free.”
“Then come by after work.”
I’d expected to spend my night alone, but I had another night with this man, another evening with his warmth and affection. That filled me with a jolt of excitement that I didn’t anticipate feeling. He fucked me good and left me satisfied, but it only made me want more. “Alright.”
I usually enjoyed being at work, but now, it felt like a drag. One of my regular clients came in to see the new shipment of artwork we received, and normally, I was excited for these kinds of days, but all I could think about was the man who had asked me to sleep over another night. Nothing else seemed to matter.
The hours dragged by, and finally, five o’clock arrived.
I texted him when I got to the car. Youstillwantmetocomeover?
His attitude was in full force. DidIsayotherwise?
Okay. I’monmyway.
Good.
I drove to his villa then parked in the parking garage, in the same spot I’d left that morning. I took the elevator and entered his dark and brooding villa, the place that was always quiet, like a beast lurked on the top floor and never left.
I didn’t see George, so I made my way upstairs, assuming that was where Theo was. I entered his primary suite and found that it’d been tidied while I was out for the day. All the surfaces were shiny, like they’d been dusted. His bed was made, and the pillows were fluffed.
But there was no Theo.
I entered the room with his bed and stopped when I spotted the new addition to the furniture. An easel with a blank canvas was sitting there. Paints and brushes were placed on a table beside the stool. It was on top of a black rug, something to capture the spilled paint and protect the hardwood floor underneath. The curtains were open, showing the fading light as the winter sun set.
On the table was a note written in a man’s handwriting. Sityourassdownandgettoit. I’llseeyouatdinner. I read the note multiple times, absorbing his handwriting and the words he’d written by hand, hearing his powerful voice in my head.
I set the note aside and stared at the blank canvas, releasing a slow breath when I felt the daunting task in front of me. It’d been a while since I’d felt creative in any capacity. After Bolton asked for an open marriage, everything in me felt stunted. I took a seat and noticed the apron sitting there, crisp and white, ready to be destroyed by paint. I decided to take off my clothes so I wouldn’t ruin them, leaving only my thong on, and then got to work.
I didn’t hear Theo when he walked in. I felt him when he drew close enough.
In just his sweatpants, he came close, examining the canvas that was now splashed with color. His arms crossed over his chest as he looked at it.
“It’s nowhere near done.” It didn’t look like much right now because I layered the background with color, trying to capture the dining room with the window in the background, the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. “I start on the outside and work my way in.”
He didn’t compliment my work and give me false praise. “How long does it take to make a painting?”
“It’s different every time, but at least a week for me.”
He gave a slight nod. “Are you hungry?”
“Always. Since I don’t eat four thousand calories.”
His eyes shifted to me with a hint of amusement.
“Where were you?”
“In the study.”
“Working?”
“Always.” He stepped away and opened one of his drawers to pull a black shirt over his head. “Where do you want to go?”
“Do we have to go anywhere?” I untied the apron and set it on the table. There were a couple spots of paint on my skin, a spot of champagne gold that I’d used on the chandelier. When I sat across from him at dinner, all I could think about was digging my fingers into his dark hair and feeling him thrust inside me. He seemed to be a beautiful and complex person on the inside, but he was so damn pretty on the outside too.
He turned back to me and subtly looked me up and down. “I’ll tell George.”
I walked away from the easel and made my way toward him, stepping off the rug and feeling the hardwood floor underneath me.
His eyes were down on my tits, watching the way my body moved as I drew close. Like a lion that studied the movement of his prey, he looked like he would strike at any moment, get me tight in his jaws and never let go.
My hands planted on his hard stomach when I was close enough, feeling the hard muscles under the searing-hot skin. I felt his abs, all eight of them, my eyes tracing the lines that separated each one. “That was thoughtful of you.”
He continued to stare at me, his muscular arms at his sides.
“Why do you care whether I paint or not?”
That intense stare continued, seeming to be so lost in my face that he hadn’t heard what I said. “I’m not a plotter or a thinker. I just do shit. Wanted to help you do the same.”
“If you aren’t strategic, doesn’t that get you killed in your line of work?”
“Am I dead?” he asked seriously, like he really wanted an answer.
My eyes moved to my fingertips at the top of his sternum.
“I do things when I want to do them—and there’s no way for my enemy to anticipate that.” His arm curled around my waist and rested on the small of my back before he moved to my ass. Effortlessly, he lifted me to him, bringing our faces level so neither one of us had to crane our necks.
His dark eyes took mine in, always looking at me like it really was the first time he saw me.
“I wish I were a little taller.” I was five-three, a valley compared to his mountain.
“I think you’re perfect.”
“You have to pick me up every time we stand together.”
“You weigh nothing, sweetheart.” He started to move me to the bed, just as he did last night, showing no signs of strain from holding the weight from my belly and ass. Instead of rolling me onto the bed, he placed me on the edge before he dropped his bottoms, showing that fat dick.
I immediately stared at it, still sore from the night before but too anxious to stop it.
He rolled the latex down his length then tugged me to the edge, gripping me by the backs of my thighs. He licked two of his fingers before he slid them inside me, invading me in a slick motion like he was already innately familiar with my body. Then his thumb started to work my clit at the same time, pulsing and rubbing, making me draw breath between my clenched teeth.
He stared at my face as he continued to finger me, his fingers getting soaked in the arousal that started to flow to my entrance. He smeared it onto his thumb then used that as lube over my clit.
The size of his dick became less of a concern as I ached for him.
He finally pulled his fingers away then guided himself inside me, having to push and wait like last time before slowly sinking inside. He was too big to go balls deep, but he put himself as deep as my body would allow. His big hands pushed back my thighs, and he thrust into me hard the second my body was ready, rather than giving me time to acclimate. This time, he just took me.
Took me hard.
George delivered dinner to the dining table in Theo’s bedroom. There was a bottle of wine and two glasses, along with a little vase of pink roses to place in the center. Once he finished setting it up, he silently dismissed himself and left Theo’s room.
Instead of taking the head of the table, Theo sat across from me and removed the silver cover of his dish, revealing a roast chicken cooked in a white sauce along with a side of roasted vegetables.
My dinner was different, a plate of pasta with shaved truffles along with a sliced baguette. Both meals looked great, and I was happy to eat either one. “Why do I get pasta and bread, and you get meat and vegetables?”
“Because I need the protein, and you don’t.” He dropped the linen and sliced into his meat. “I can split this with you or have George bring you the same thing.”
“Oh no,” I said quickly. “I’m very happy with this. Was just curious.”
He ate with his elbows on the table, sometimes having good table manners and sometimes eating like a caveman. Whenever we were out at dinner, he was more refined, but in his own home, he seemed to disregard dinner table etiquette.
We ate in silence, the bedroom quiet because we were above the street and the windows were probably double-paned. It was just the sound of utensils tapping against the white plates. It was very different from eating at a restaurant, where the sound of nearby conversation filled the room like a quiet hum.
My life had changed so drastically in the last few weeks. A month ago, I couldn’t imagine ever being with anyone else but Bolton, but now I sat across from a drop-dead gorgeous man who wasn’t my husband—and it didn’t bother me.
He chewed his bite as he stared at me. When he was finished, he spoke. “You’re different.”
My eyes hardened on his face. “I’m different?”
He nodded and took another bite.
“How?”
“You’re a lot more relaxed.” He grabbed his glass and drank the white wine that George had paired with the meal. “You’ve finally let me see you, all of you.”
Because my mind wasn’t riddled with guilt, anger, and self-loathing. Now, I lived in the moment without hesitation.
“Did something change?”
I didn’t want to talk about Bolton when I was with Theo. But he was a constant presence in our lives. It was like we were having an affair, only we weren’t. When I was with Theo, my husband was with someone else. “My husband has embraced the arrangement, so I decided to do the same.”
He took a break from his dinner and watched me instead, trying to read all the layers of emotion in my gaze.
“He’s noticed I’ve been distant. Closed off. Cold. Said we could stop the arrangement and go back to what we used to be, but…” I looked at the gorgeous man across from me, the man who seemed to fill the void that my husband had left in my heart. “That meant I’d have to give you up, and I didn’t want to.” Bolton’s infidelity suddenly stung less because Theo numbed it with kisses. The depth of the loss had shallowed because Theo had filled it with his presence.
He smirked slightly.
“What?”
“He’s a fucking idiot.”
The defensive side of me came to the surface to defend Bolton’s honor, but I never voiced it because it felt stupid to do so.
He grabbed his glass and took another drink. “But I’m glad he’s an idiot.”