Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
HENRY
Temptation is a mistress.
And she does tempt me. A lot.
But the way Clarissa went at me once that door was closed was uncalled for. I stepped down and let her take the reins and my god do I regret it.
Everything Clarissa wanted, Clarissa got. And that was my fault and I would willingly hold my hands up and say that. I spoiled her.
Pushed her to the top of her career when in reality she didn’t deserve any of this.
She never wanted children, so I settled on that, for her.
Everything I done was for her .
She treats me like shit and yet I still come back for more… and the worst part is, I have no idea why.
I wait on the pavement, turning my wrist to face me just as my phone buzzes.
Clarissa
Don’t wait for me. Caught up with work.
Typical Clarissa.
I shake my head from side to side and head to the parked car that sits kerbside when I hear Bella’s voice.
“Had the worst day,” she mutters, large sunglasses pushed onto her face, head down as she walks past me. “I’m heading across the street to our normal…” and that’s all I hear before she is out of earshot.
I look towards my driver and tell him to leave, I’ll call for him when I need him. Picking up my pace, I follow her. Not too closely, but close enough I can see where she is going.
Slipping into a quaint cocktail bar, she gives the doorman a knowing nod and I follow.
“Evening,” I tilt my head, hand in my pocket as I step inside the small bar. Dark green walls, gold chandeliers, and gold accents dotted around the room.
I seek her out in an instant and she sits down on the bar stool, phone in her hand as she scrolls. I watch as her shoulders rise and fall as if she has the weight of the world sitting upon them.
I stalk over, finger rubbing across my bottom lip as I stand next to her.
“Is this seat taken?” Her eyes widen when she sees me standing there.
Shaking her head slowly, she shuffles in her seat.
“Should you be here after…” she trails off just as the waiter puts her cocktail down in front of her.
A margarita. Classic choice. Not one that I would have expected her to drink.
“She’s working late, I have nowhere else to be, otherwise I’ll be sitting at home by myself,” I shrug my shoulders as I take my seat next to her.
“Oh,” she rubs her lips together as her fingers tap on the bottom of her glass.
“I can go if…”
“No, no it’s fine. I’m just in a mood,” she admits, “just being a brat.”
And for some reason, that word falling from her lips has my cock hard.
“A brat?” my lips twitch just as the bartender asks for my order. “I’ll have the same as Bella,” I smile, but my eyes are on her.
“Yeah, can be sometimes, plus with the shit day…”
“She made it hell?”
She scoffs a laugh, her eyes glistening.
“She always makes it hell,” and I don’t miss the way she turns away from me, the way her voice is a little quieter now.
“I’m sorry.”
She laughs, twisting her stool around so she is facing me. “Why are you sorry?” her head tilts, full lips parted as she waits for me to answer.
“Just am,” my eyes fall to her lips.
“Well, you shouldn’t be apologising for her.” She’s facing the bar again then takes a sip of her cocktail just as mine is placed in front of me.
“Anyway, enough about work…” I pick the glass up by the stem and hold it towards her, “cheers!”
“Cheers,” she sings as our glasses clink.
And that’s when the evening took a turn.
We’re both about six or seven drinks deep. We’re laughing at stupid stories, and when she nearly falls off her stool, my hand reaches for her and lands on her thigh. Time stands still for a moment, our eyes connect, and I don’t miss the way my palm is tingling from her skin.
Pulling it away for just a moment, I cough, clearing my throat.
“Sorry,” she pants, her chest rising and falling.
“It’s fine,” I mutter, even though I have no idea what she is apologising for.
Sitting up tall, I shrug my suit jacket off, suddenly too hot. I fold it and hang it over the bar. I don’t miss the way Bella’s gaze roams over me, as if tracing every inch of me with her eyes.
“She doesn’t appreciate you,” she breathes out just as her eyes find mine. “She doesn’t deserve you…”
“No?” I find myself asking, leaning a little closer into her.
“No,” she shakes her head just as she slips off the stool and fear pricks at the back of my neck that she is leaving.
“Where are you going?” I edge off my stool, now standing in front of her and shamelessly I am staring at her tits.
“Ladies’,” she presses her hand against my chest, and I know she can feel the way my heart is racing beneath my skin.
She winks and then turns to walk down the narrow hallway and my eyes greedily roam over her. Pert ass, tight little skirt and long fucking legs that would look so good wrapped around my back.
I sit back down for a moment when I see her disappear. I eye the bartender then back to where she walked. I pat my jacket and the bartender gives me a nod as I push out of my seat and follow the little temptress that I have somehow became infatuated with.
Pushing the door to the ladies’ restroom open, I see her standing at the mirror, slightly bent over the sink as she reapplies her red lipstick.
Slowly walking in, I scope the room but we’re alone.
One step, two steps, three steps and I am behind her, hand snaking around her waist as I push her ass into my evident bulge. My lips press into her neck and a shaky breath passes her lips.
“You’re married,” she whispers.
“I know,” I groan, my fingers playing with the hem of her little skirt, lifting it up her thighs and she gasps.
“We shouldn’t…”
“We shouldn’t…” I repeat and I step back just as she turns around, fingers curled around the countertop, eyes wild as they devour me.
Silence crackles between us and the tension continues to grow.
“Do you still think she isn’t deserving?” I ask, hand rubbing across my mouth, covering my lips that I am so desperate to put onto hers.
“I know she isn’t.”
“Then fuck it,” I growl, hands cupping her face as I tilt her lips up towards me and our lips graze, tongues dancing and I can’t stop. Even if I wanted to.