Page 2 of Desperate Temptations

“Aren’t they always?” The joke lands flat as he winces, glancing away from me and scratching the back of his neck.

Trent shrugs, but I can see the sadness pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Guess so, right?”

I’m too over today and all this bullshit to correct my bad joke, so I push off the wall and nod toward the small pathway leading around the back. “Want to help me break out of this joint?”

His eyes widen, shocked I’m serious. “You want to leave her funeral?”

“Yeah, I do. They’re lucky I even came to begin with.”

“Jesus, Ethan. What happened?”

I shake my head. “I’ll explain later.”

My best friend stubs out his cigarette and gives me a small grin. “Then your chariot awaits.”

By the time we get him checked out of the hotel and his stuff set up in the guestroom, he’s ready to rest from his day of traveling so we order some pizza. I don’t fight him to stay, wanting to finally be alone and wallow in the thoughts I’ve been putting off all day. Or so I thought I wanted.

I stare at the papers scattered on my desk, all the glaring details of her betrayal forever memorialized. I don’t want to deal with it at all, perhaps ever. Burn it all and forget the past decade of my life.

Grabbing the bottle, I walk out of my office and to the backyard. It’s only a few more steps to her prized possessions. I swallow down another bitter swig of the whiskey before setting it down next to me and unbuttoning my pants.

I pull out my cock, aim for the roses, and start pissing.

A sigh escapes me as my shoulders relax, and I tilt my head back to stare at the sky.

These fucking roses.

I’ve always hated them, but I hate them even more now that she’s dead.

Making meand himboth widowers.

Fuck her and fuck these roses. And fuck her for leaving me in this mess.

Shaking the last few drops off my cock, I drop my chin to stare at the bushes with the blooming flowers.

My fingers curl around my shaft, stroking myself as I let my thoughts wander.

If I had hired that PI a year ago, maybe my life would look completely different. I would have been free from this miserable sham of a marriage ages ago, free from the obligations that come with it.

Free from the guilt every time I looked at another and wondered what it would it be like to fuck them instead of the frigid bitch in my bed.

My cock hardens in my hand as my eyes shut, picturing my blonde receptionist and her perfect round ass in those skirts.

Lyndsey hated her, convinced we were fucking, but I guess that was her projecting her own infidelity onto us.

I’m gonna bend her over Lyndsey’s desk and fuck her for the hell of it when I return to the office.

I turn to the left when I hear a sharp inhale and squint at my best friend.

My hand doesn’t let up. Too horny and petty to care.

“You’re welcome to join me. I know you’ve always hated Lyndsey,” I tell him with a hollow laugh.

“And what exactly are you doing with your cock out at midnight?”

I shrug. “Pissing on her roses. Probably gonna come on them too. She always hated the taste of my cum.”

He hums, the moonlight glinting off his tongue piercing as it sweeps across his bottom lip before he moves closer to me. “She hated a lot of things, including me.”

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