Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Felix
“God, I missed you.” Isabella jumps up from the sofa when I get home from work.
“I would have picked you up from the airport,” I say when she hurls herself into my arms.
“I know, but I took an earlier flight, and I knew you were working.” With her arms draped around my neck, she grins and gives me a slow kiss.
I need her kiss.
When she reaches for my tie, loosening it, I decide I need that too. I need her in every way. I need her body to distract my mind. I need her soft moans to spur some life back into my black soul.
Our clothes pile up at our feet, and we make it up three stairs before I’m inside of her.
“F-Felix …” She giggles, wriggling away from me.
She gets up two more stairs before I hook her waist and take her from behind, her knees on one step, her hands two steps higher. This time she doesn’t giggle. Her fingers dig into the runner rug, and she grunts with each thrust.
Fucking my wife like an animal on the stairs is a good way to not think about Josephine Watts in my storage unit … in a coma.
“Oh god … Felix …” She wiggles her ass, doing the work for me as the sound of skin slapping fills the room.
I grip her hips and enjoy the view. Her long auburn hair splays along her face as she looks over her shoulder at me, mouth slightly agape with each tiny grunt.
Uh. Uh. Uh …
They’re little staccatos drowning the memory of Josephine trying to scream inside the plastic bag.
She gives me a tiny smirk and pulls away from me, running the rest of the way up the stairs. I chase her down the hallway and into the bedroom, where I pin her beneath me and wedge myself between her spread legs.
My tongue flicks her nipple, and she whispers, “Tie me up.” She lifts her hips and grinds against me while stretching her arms above her head toward the bed posts in surrender.
My erection dies, her words a marksman with a direct hit. In all the years we’ve been together, I’ve tied her to the bed maybe … twice? And tonight … out of all fucking nights, she asks me to do it.
I crawl off her and drag my limp dick to the bathroom.
“Felix? Where are you going? What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t had dinner, and I need a shower.”
“What? Are you serious? We didn’t finish!”
I close the door, knowing she’ll be opening it in a matter of seconds. What am I supposed to say? I grab my cock and stroke it over and over, thinking about my Isabella, my sexy wife. Her tits. Her pussy. When that doesn’t work, I think about Heather, one of my nurses. She’s twenty-four. A double D. And she’s always wearing a fucking pink thong under her scrubs that I see every time she bends down to tie her shoes when she’s not wearing her lab coat. I don’t want to fuck her in real life. I’m a happily married man, but in a pinch, I think of her, and it always does the job.
Not tonight.
The tire is flat, and I don’t have a spare.
“Felix.” Isabella opens the door and traipses up behind me as I turn on the shower.
I cringe when I jump in before the water has a chance to warm up.
“Brr …” She squeals, following me into the shower.
There’s no escaping her hand reaching for my flat tire.
She frowns when I turn toward her.
“Sorry.” I shrug. “Cold water.” I squirt shampoo into my hair and work up a lather.
Isabella drops to her knees and pulls me into her mouth.
Nothing.
This is emasculating. She’s been gone for over a week. She’ll think I don’t want her, or worse, that I’m cheating on her.
“Ouch!” She pulls away when I not-so-accidentally squirt body soap into her eye.
“Oh, Izzy … I’m so sorry, honey.” I help her to her feet and guide her face under one of the jets.
“Oh my god. It burns!”
“I’m really sorry.” I hand her a washcloth.
She takes it and exits the shower.
“I’ll be out in a minute. I can help rinse out your eye,” I say, resting my forehead against the tile.
I suffocated a woman four days ago. By some miracle, I brought her back. But now she’s in a coma in my fucking storage unit with stolen equipment from work. Losing my job is the least of my concerns right now. If someone found Josie, would I be arrested for … attempted murder? I have no alibi. And there is not one good reason why she’s in my storage unit. If the electricity goes out during the night, she’ll freeze to death. If she wakes when I’m not there and is disoriented, she could try to leave on her own. What have I done?