Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
I observe the girls a little longer before I feel my phone vibrate. I know it’s Kyson asking me if Kalilah has left yet. By the looks of things, it doesn’t seem she wants to leave at all.
I’m not someone who gets nervous. I dominate—it’s just who I am and my personality. But as I watch Mayve shake her hips, I wonder if she’ll turn around and be disappointed that I’m here waiting for her. It’s hard to know how to treat your wife, especially when she only wants space from her husband.
And that’s what I have given her.
Granted, I’ve watched her and checked in on her to ensure she’s been safe.
Mayve spins, then stops, her eyes finding mine. She covers her mouth with her hand, and I can see the ghost of a smile under there before she comes to me, throwing her arms around my neck.
“I’ve missed you,” she slurs. I can smell the alcohol leeching from her.
“I’ve missed you more,” I tell her. And it’s no lie.
“Why are you here, and where did Alaska go?” Kalilah asks as she joins us.
Mayve lays her head on my chest and breathes me in.
I like it.
A lot.
“She left. And Kyson said Lyla needs you.” She waves a hand at me.
“We both know that’s a lie. That kid only ever needs him or you.” She huffs. “I’m just the one who gave birth to her, you know,” she adds with an eye roll. “Anyway, take me home, please.” She taps my shoulder and walks out. I lift my phone, keeping an arm around Mayve. When she tries to pull away, I tug her straight back to me, and she doesn’t argue.
I call a cab, and it arrives within minutes. I get Kalilah seated, then Mayve and I climb in after her. As the driver heads to Kyson’s house to drop Kalilah off, Mayve lays her head on my shoulder.
“How much have you missed me?” she asks.
“A lot. He’s been more depressing than normal,” Kalilah answers sleepily, her head leaning on the door, her eyes closed.
“I have,” I say truthfully.
“I’ve been trying to work out how to end this thing between us,” Mayve says, and I feel myself tense at her words. “But I suck at it because it always comes back to… You’ll miss him, you already do,” she rambles. I smile as she turns just a little to look up at me. Those eyes. How I have missed those devil eyes meeting mine. “You feel the same?”
“Worse,” I reply.
The car stops at Kyson’s, and he walks out of the house wearing no shirt. As Kailiah gets out of the car, he picks her up and strides back into the house without a glance back at us.
The driver takes off again.
And this time, we’re going back to my house.
Thirty-Five
Mayve
I can’t move, no matter how hard I try.
I’m stuck, and the room is pitch black.
What’s happening?
The wine.
The girls.
And then him.
“Stop moving,” he grumbles.
“I stink. I need to shower and use the toilet,” I say groggily.
“You smell like my favorite scent,” he says, and I feel his hand tighten around my waist.
“I do?” It’s my regular perfume, but I didn’t think it would still be lingering on me.
“Yes, you always smell like my favorite thing.”
“I need to shower, and I can’t see anything,” I complain.
His hand moves, and I feel cold without it. But he claps, the lights flick on, and his hand again finds my waist. “I can’t move if you don’t let me go,” I tell him.
“You’ll come back?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He lifts his arm, and I get up, carefully making my way through his room to his bathroom, where I quickly use the facilities before I turn on his shower. It’s a large shower with a massive showerhead. After stripping out of my clothes, I step in and instantly feel the warm water on me.
That’s the first time I’ve been that drunk, and it was fun. I felt so free. Switching the shower off, I step out and wrap the towel around myself. Peeking out into the bedroom, Kenzo sits on his bed, leaning against the headboard, waiting for me.
“We should talk,” he says seriously.
I nod in agreement—we probably should. So I grip the towel and walk to the end of the bed. “I don’t have any clothes here. Do you have anything I can wear?”
He pulls his shirt off and throws it my way. I catch it and slip it on, dropping the towel to the floor.
“It’s really hard not to throw you on the bed right now and have my way with you,” he says gruffly. I smirk, climb onto the bed, and sit down, pulling the covers over my legs. The blanket is so fluffy that it’s like a cloud. I could sleep in this bed for days.