Page 16 of When the Last One Falls
God, I was fucking tired.
Had I known that having a wife was going to be this fucking exhausting, I would have left Central America a day earlier and had gotten some goddamn rest.
Ready to commit all kinds of indecency crimes by checking the women’s restrooms, my irrational actions were put to a stop when Magnus found me. Deciding that I might need some advice-after all, Magnus did possess a wife of sorts-I gave him a quick rundown of the night, explaining exactly why I hadn’t gone looking for him yet.
By the time that I was done, the man looked sorry for me.
Chapter 11
Keris~
No, I wasn’t one to be used and shared. While I liked my sex just as dirty, rough, and passionate as the next girl, I wasn’t into being shared. Regardless of how much I liked an alpha male, I also wasn’t into having the entire city of Portal Lands watch me get fucked on a hotel balcony.
I wasn’t that adventurous.
Dylan was the one that had threesomes and loved to have sex in public. She was the one that had adrenaline cravings. Though she swore by the experiences, claiming that every woman should have a least one threesome in her life, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to do it. Huntley had done it once, and though she had given the experience two thumbs up, I just hadn’t ever found myself in a situation where that’d been a possibility. However, hearing Rochelle talk about how Brantley got off on sharing her, the idea just made me nauseous now.
For all intents and purposes, I was Brantley’s wife, but that was just for show. Like he’d told his father, I’d been bought and paid for. By definition, I was a whore. I’d sold myself for monetary gain, and it didn’t matter that I wasn’t sleeping with the buyer. I’d been for sale, Brantley had paid the price, and I really had come with a receipt.
Jesus Christ.
I braced my hands on top of the marble counter, my head hung with everything that I’d just heard. Was Brantley going to expect that from me? Or was that why he planned on still sleeping with other women? Did he know that I wouldn’t be up for those kinds of sex games, so he just wasn’t going to bother with me? I pictured drug-fueled orgies, and I could feel my palms sweat.
The simple fact of the matter was that I had married a complete stranger. Apart from his name, I knew nothing about Brantley Kingston. There were rumors of him being a ruthless asshole, but that was it. I had no idea if he was capable of being kind, considerate, or forgiving. I had no idea what his views on marriage were. I had no idea if he thought that it was okay to beat women, or if neglect was his choice of poison. I didn’t even know his middle name.
I knew nothing about him.
When the restroom door opened, I quickly straightened, pretending to fix my hair. When my green eyes met the blue ones in the mirror, I was ready to call it a night. Not only was Rochelle Darling beautifully stunning, but she was also a sex goddess, making fantasies come true that I wouldn’t even think about trying. Staring at her face, I could easily see a group of powerful men worshiping this woman all at the same time.
“So, you’re married to Kingston,” she said, breaking the silence.
“He told you?” I asked, somewhat surprised that she was talking to me, and also thinking it a bit odd that she called him Kingston.
“We’re…friends,” she hedged, and just like that, I felt like a goddamn fool.
Iwas the other woman in this scenario, not her. Brantley had been seeing her way before I had come along, and she’d been awillingchoice for him, not some decision born out of parental manipulation. If anyone had a right to be jealous in this situation, it was her. She was the one that’d been in a relationship with him, only to be told that he was going to marry someone else. Rochelle had put in all the work and hours, but I was the one that had gotten the ring.
As I thought about it, it also didn’t seem fair that Brantley should stop seeing her. Why should he? Our marriage had started out as a business arrangement, and it still was. It was always going to be a business arrangement, and I just needed to accept that.
Steadying my nerves, I said, “Well, you guys can still be…good friends. I have no issues with that.”
Her blue eyes rounded. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” I quickly rushed out, overstepping with assumptions. “It’s really not my business.”
“You’re his wife,” she pointed out. “How is it not your business.”
Lying through the skin of my teeth, I said, “I just want Brantley to be happy.” Rochelle looked confused as hell, so before I could make things any more awkward, I added, “Have a good night.” I grabbed my purse off the counter, then got the hell out of there.
Like someone practicing to become a full-blown alcoholic, I headed straight for the bar, asking for the tequila that I’d wanted earlier. There were a million cars available outside, so there was no need to be sober for any of this.
A large, warm, masculine body saddled up next to me after tossing back my second shot of tequila, and I looked up to see Ares Cormac staring down at me with eyes so damn brilliant that they looked like the sun.
“Rough night?” he asked, jerking his chin towards the two empty shot glasses.
“No,” I lied. “I just like living dangerously.
He smirked at my lie. “That’s actually a good thing, considering.”
