Page 57 of Constantine: Britain's Story: Part 2
“An extra week of v-vacation!” I exclaim. Gina keeps staring at me, though, giving me that fuck-me gaze. She crosses her legs, then uncrosses them, then spreads them wide, scooting to sit all the way on the desk in front of me.
“You know what I want, boss.” Gina leans back on the desk, kicking off her heels and scooting over so she’s sitting right in front of me.
“Nuh, uh, Gina. Bad idea.” I scooch my chair back away from her, but she hooks her legs around the arms and pulls me in closer.
“Let me make you feel better,” she croons out, swiping her tongue over her lips.
“Gina, we’re not like that.”
“But I want us to be. I’m not asking you to put a ring on it.” She leans forward to whisper, “Just use me.” I feel a bit sick to my stomach at the thought. There’s only one person I want to be with. I close my eyes and picture Britain. My chest gets tight, and then I see Matt, railing her.Fuck both of them. I know that I left, but I came back! And she still had sex with him. She was with me in that alley earlier that night.I bet if I tried, she would’ve fucked me. Is that who she is?
She slept with him and then curled up next to me, cuddling with me in her bed. She begged me not to go. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. I don’t even realize I’m doing it, but I’m squeezing the arm rests of my desk chair so hard my knuckles have gone white, the stitches taut like they might bust again.
Gina sees the tension, but thinks it’s for her.
“I know you want this, Liam.” She scoots closer to the edge of the desk, sending her flowy skirt falling to the sides. I look and immediately I regret it.
“Where’s your fucking underwear, Gina?” She smiles at this small win, knowing I looked.
“They’re in your briefcase.” I look over to where it’s sitting on my desk. But it’s what’s behind it that triggers me. In a simple silver frame sits a picture of me and Britain from the morning I proposed to her, my hand splayed across her abdomen.Ourfirst family photo. She was probably four or five weeks pregnant when we took that picture. I don’t know why I did it, but I had it printed and framed, sitting on my desk in Sonoma.
Stupid, really. I still thought I had a chance then. I mean, fuck, maybe I still do?
“Don’t leave me hanging, boss.” Gina moves one foot off the arm of the desk chair, placing it on my leg, moving it up higher until she’s inches from touching my dick. I think she’d be disappointed to find out that I’m not hard, not in the slightest. I grab her foot and push it back over the chair.
“I’m not going to use you, Gina. And I’m not emotionally available, okay?” The intense buzz is starting to fade. My mouth just feels dry and the pain at the back of my throat is back, reminding me the scotch isn’t numbing it anymore. Gina sees where my line of sight has landed and reaches over, flipping the frame down.
She drops her head back in frustration. “Ugh, I’m so tired of this bitch ruining everything.”
“Don’t fucking call her that, Gina.” Gina straightens, looking at me — a daring look.
“Oh yeah, you don’t like that?” Gina asks, using her legs to pull my chair closer.
“No. I already told you not to talk bad about her. It pisses me off.” This just seems to egg Gina on.
“Oh, no,” she says sarcastically, “is someone talking bad about daddy’s little whore?”
“I swear to God, Gina. One more comment, and I’ll…”
“And?” She arches her eyebrows. “And you’ll what? Spank me for being a bad girl?” I close my eyes, trying to block out the visual of Gina bent over my desk as I spank her.No, I don’t want that.She leans down, picking up the bottle of scotch and pours me a tall glass.
“You can fight this, Liam, but it’s going to happen.” I’m shaking my head in response when she grabs my chin in her hand, her long fingernails digging into my skin, and forces my head up and down in a nod. She finally releases the desk chair with her legs and pushes me back slightly and I sigh out in relief.Thank fuck, that’s over.
But it’s not. She starts unbuttoning her top, and I can’t look away. She hands me the glass of scotch and says, “For your viewing pleasure, boss.” Then with a wink, she slips the top off and lets it fall to a puddle on the floor. Of course, there’s not a bra in sight. She then sinks down to her knees in front of me.
“This is a two way street, boss. You gotta give a little, too.” She reaches out and starts unbuckling my belt, and I just watch her in a daze. I don’t want this, but alsofuck Britain. Gina unzips my pants, but that’s as far as she gets.
I think I hear a knock at the door, and it pulls me back into reality.Fuck this.In my sternest voice, I tell Gina, “Pick your shirt up off the floor and put it back on,now.” Gina halts her striptease at the sound of my voice just as there’s another knock at the door.
“You want me to get that?” Gina asks.
“No, whoever it is can fuck off. You need to pick up your shit and go.” Her eyes seem to cloud slightly, but eventually she drops down to pick up the shirt.
TWENTY
Britain
Dear Britain,
