Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Lottie doesn’t look my way when I leave her again.
CHAPTER 25
LOTTIE
“So, he’s possessive of you,” Shane says, coming up behind me.
Somehow, I managed to escape after listening to my mother talk dresses for the last ten minutes and driving me crazy with her designer bullshit. Whiskey is off frolicking with the rich, which I guess is what he does. But I have felt his eyes on me the whole time. Even when he thought I didn’t notice.
“Who?” I ask, turning as Shane pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear and leans on the balcony. I stay near the door but still outside, too afraid to look over, but needing the fresh air and the escape. “Did you follow me out here?” I ask him, smiling and looking behind me to make sure my husband didn’t see—eww that word “husband” feels bad in my mind. Is that what he is? I guess legally he is.
“I did. And your husband. He hasn’t been able to keep his hands and eyes off you. Tell me, Lottie, do you want him?” I feel my cheeks redden at his words.
“No.” And the minute that leaves my mouth, I cover it with my hands.
He smirks. Lights his cigarette. “I figured as much. There’s tension there. But I don’t know what kind,” he says as if he has it all figured out. “But I can tell he wants you at the very least.”
I shrug because I shouldn’t answer that. I go through waves of wanting and hating Whiskey. Lately, it’s been all about hating. But when I see him, no matter how mad he makes me, I still want him. Why is that?
“Did you keep my number?” I look down at my hand for some reason, knowing it washed off.
“Pass me your phone.”
I do, and he types his number in and smiles when he hands it back to me.
“Booty call?” I ask him, reading it and looking up to him.
“Anytime. Anywhere.” Shane moves over, leans down, and kisses the side of my lips. I can smell the cigarette that still lingers on his lips as he leaves and have to remember to breathe.
My heart rate finally slows down as I close my eyes and dream. Dream of a life that I was living before this nightmare began.
“He only wants you because you’re married.” I jump, not expecting someone to be there, and my phone drops to the floor. Thankfully it doesn’t smash. Leaning down, Whiskey picks up my phone and turns it around. “Booty call,” he reads out. “He has some nerve, let me tell you that, luckily for him he doesn’t need his legs to be a drummer.”
“Luckily for you, this marriage is fake,” I say, reaching for my phone and sliding it back into my purse.
“Touché.” He nods.
“I can fuck whoever I want, the same as you. Don’t think you’ll be the only one having fun, husband.” I push past him to leave.
Whiskey stops me, our shoulders touching as he leans over. “But it’s me you wish was fucking you. Isn’t it, wife? I could fuck you right here, right now. Cover your mouth with mine to stop those screams I know you make.”
My angry eyes turn to him. “You would know, you have it all on video for your viewing pleasure,” I fire back at him.
He smirks then drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “Why deny what’s between us? You have an itch that needs to be scratched, and so do I.”
“I bet yours has been scratched and sucked lately,” I fire back.
“Surprisingly, no. But if you’re offering…” He looks me over then leans down to kiss me, but I turn just in time as his lips touch the side of my face. His kisses fuck me over and make me putty in his hands, and that fact is entirely unfair.
“Your wife doesn’t like to be fucked by liars and manipulators,” I remind him.
“You had no trouble last time,” he says with a click of his tongue.
I lean close to him, so it seems I might kiss him. “I didn’t realize who I was getting into bed with, go figure. Now I see you, know you, I don’t want you.”
Whiskey’s hand makes me jump when it touches my dress. “I can smell you. You’re an awful liar. What if I inched up farther, would you be wet right now?” His hand moves and I make no move to stop him.
“Yes,” I breathe, not even bothering to lie.
Then I reach up on my tippy toes and whisper in his ear, “But it’s not for you.” Then I pull away and return to the party.
Whiskey leaves me alone for at least an hour. The party is starting to slow down, and some people have left, Shane being one of them. When the band left, I wished I could have gone with them.