Page 40 of His to Keep
Christ, he’d had sex with plenty of women in the past and enjoyed every minute of it, but tonight his skin crawled with disgust rather than sexual adrenaline. The brutal reality of being with a woman who wasn’t Lana hit him tenfold.
Were all woman set to disappoint from now on? Substandard shells, that failed to arouse him. Was he forever void of the thrill and excitement without her?
Not only had Lana stolen his heart, but she had stolen the pleasure of casual sex too, casting a spell on his heart and his cock for eternity.
Marcus continued to torture himself. While he wished Lana was curled up beside him, he scrolled through the list of contacts on his phone until her name appeared. He wanted to call her back—and say what? No, she was better off without him. They needed space and enough time to think everything through.
But he fucking missed her.
Gulping down the last dregs of whiskey, he sank behind the bar, sliding down the wall. He was lost in denial and drowning under the surface of his stupid ass decision to let her leave.
Fumbling in his jeans, he palmed his dick, fantasising about Lana. He swept his finger across the images of her pretty face and her bare alabaster skin amidst his clean sheets, captured on his mobile phone.
There on the floor, he revisited her writhing body and recalled her sensual taste. He stroked his hard length and brought himself the gratification he needed, spurting come all over his jeans.
He lay in the ashes of his regret and drank the remains of his resolve, knowing perfectly well that Lana was the only one to fix him.
17
“Sign.” The monosyllabic prison officer pushed forward a pen.
Carl scribbled his name.
“Here.” The officer slammed down a transparent plastic bag. “Your possessions.”
Carl grabbed the few items that were snatched away on the day of his arrest, returning his gold watch to his wrist.
He swivelled on his heels, away from the prison officer and clapped his hands with a slow, appreciative pace. “There he is, my hero!” He spread his hand across his heart and faked a loved up grin.
“How does it feel to be a free man, Carl?” asked the hero.
“Fucking amazing, Paul. You really are the best. No wonder you’re the head of the Law Society.” Carl patted the suited man on his back. Paul was shaped like a barrel and stank of designer cologne. “If anyone could get me out, it would be you.”
“Isn’t that what lifelong friends are for.” They shook hands. “Try and stay out of trouble. Your ‘get out of jail free’ cards are limited now that the police have you on their books.”
Carl shrugged on a jacket. “Don’t worry about me, Paul. I have everything under control.” Carl smoothed down his sleeves, buckled his leather belt and smiled curtly.
He winked at the ruddy faced man whose top lip was hidden behind a wiry black moustache. Paul’s bushy brow perked up.
“I’ll see you at the next meeting. We can talk about that certain ‘thing’ you promised me.” His lip twitched with menacing excitement.
Carl’s dark eyes gleamed. “Of course. It’s a done deal.” He nodded and slid into the car waiting at the roadside.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some unfinished business to take care of.”
Carl inhaled the fresh clean air of freedom. Paul left a bottle of champagne in the back of the town car, ready for Carl to celebrate his release. He supped the fresh nectar, slapping his lips loudly.
Nothing felt as good, as deliverance tasted. Apart from revenge. That was a dish best served cold—deathly cold.
18
It was much cooler in the afternoons now that summer was creeping behind autumn.
Thankfully, the typical Northern Ireland drizzle held off for an hour, so Lana tugged up her hood and left behind Amanda’s gaudy lemon umbrella. Grey clouds masked the sun and made everything look cold and dreary, the days lacked colour.
She trudged along the damp footpath, searching for the Estate Agent her mother recommended. She hoped the perfect cheap and cheerful rental would fall into her lap without too much effort.
Even though Amanda had given up her bed, Lana found the nights long and lonely. She mostly lay awake wondering if Marcus was touching another woman and begging her untrustworthy eyelids not to close and welcome sleep.
