Page 55 of Falling for the Wife

Minutes passed until we finally reached the gate. I had to use the intercom on the access control pad to connect me to the security station, which was hidden behind the tall quaking aspen trees close to the gate’s entrance.

“Hello?” I croaked out. “It’s me, Gisele. Buzz me in, please. Thank you.”

“Right away, Miss Weber.” Mike’s voice echoed out of the control pad’s speakers.

“Thank you, Mike.”

“Have a good night and a happy birthday as well,” he thoughtfully added before wide, expansive, dual wrought iron and wood gates began to automatedly open.

“Good night to you, too, Mike.”

Wyatt’s arm hadn’t lessened its grip around my hip as we casually strode towards the long driveway leading to the house.

“Can I sleep over, or are you still contemplating?” Wyatt asked the second we stepped into the foyer. The dimmed surroundings made his voice rather too intimate as he placed his other arm around my hip, fully encircling me with his body. Dark eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Trepidation seized me as I pondered my present predicament—Wyatt and my promise of disengaging from this massive flirt. And yet, it was this man who was here, ensuring that I was home safe. The same guy who had done his best to take my mind off my father’s demise. Jared had been absent for the past month, only resurfacing back into my life when it suited him, and he retreated whenever he got the inclination to do so. So why must I put Jared first when I was at the very bottom of his? Was I so heartless that I could begrudge Wyatt this tiny innocuous request?

One look at Wyatt’s familiar face cemented a decision for me. “Tonight. That’s it. No more sleepovers after this, got it?” I reluctantly said, “And we’re not going to do anything sexual, so if you’re thinking otherwise, you can shove it somewhere else, thank you.”

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he swore as we began to stroll towards the lift.

While Wyatt was pleased with the outcome, my guilt gnawed at me. My promise to Jared couldn’t even survive a full twenty-four hours. Frankly, I felt horrid about it. But the mere thought of being alone tonight simply daunted me.

This whole sleeping dependency only surfaced the moment Jared had shared my bed every night for a straight month. His warmth and the absolute sense of security and protection he provided during those nights had left a mark on me. Hence, my reluctance tonight.

CHAPTER19

Jared

“St. James.”

“Sir, I’m calling for the update you requested earlier tonight.” Mike’s stern, clipped voice filtered through the phone’s speaker while I continued encoding the prototype Peter hadn’t completed before his parting.

With unparalleled concentration, my eyes darted back and forth across the screen as my fingers rapidly keyed in data. “Go on.”

After leaving her bedroom earlier, I intended to go home, but instead, I found myself driving back to the headquarters to keep working on this new project. The moment I entered my domain, I immediately speed-dialed Mike to inform me the second Gisele got home because I found it impossible to resist her tonight after what she and I had just shared. My body craved her like a drug. Tonight proved my resistance was in shambles. Why keep denying what my body had been imploring to ravage unceasingly? The constricted narrow channel in between her thighs was a mortal man’s Eden. The rush it gave my body each time the head of my cock pierced through her snug opening was the ultimate nirvana. The sensation her cunt bestowed upon me as I pillaged her, greedily clamping down on my length, sucking me back into her sweet depths was absolute ecstasy. Or witnessing her abandon any inhibitions by allowing me to use her body merely as an object of pleasure. It was sheer unmitigated euphoria. Giving her up after experiencing her blooming and accepting her sensual nature would be ludicrous.

Coming to terms with my cock-driven decision took some getting used to. However, the moment my mind took hold of the idea, I understood tremendous strength would be implemented to resolve fighting through my long-standing demons. Nevertheless, I was fairly prepared to face the ghosts of my past, no matter how agonizing it may be or in spite of the arduous mental obstacles it entailed. The cost was high—I understood as much—but I didn’t have the wherewithal to give her up anymore. No, Gisele was mine. I claimed her as mine.

My magnificent nymph. Oh, the things I dreamed of teaching her…

Mike cleared his throat, halting my meandering, wanton thoughts. “Miss Weber’s back, sir. She arrived fifteen minutes ago.”

Fifteen minutes ago? I frowned. “I specifically said the second she arrives, Mike. Clearly, you’ve misunderstood me. Nevertheless, thank you all the same.”

“No, sir, I heard you loud and clear, but my gut told me to wait before informing you Wyatt Rinaldi hasn’t come out of the house since they arrived.”

The head of security knew I’d be ticked off about Wyatt Rinaldi. The past month, he’d been rather selective when providing me with Gisele’s whereabouts since I had all but given up on it. Now, after witnessing her being devoured like a blasted buffet on the kitchen counter, I hadn’t dared to check twice in fear of what I might see next.

My jaw gravely clenched as I tried to rationally comprehend what Mike had just stated. “Check the recordings. Tell me where Rinaldi is right now,” I gritted out as my hand gripped my knee, disconcerted beyond measure. She had promised. Moronic to admit, but I had actually held on to her word. Was she capable of retracting such a vehement declaration in a matter of hours?

In the background, I could hear him typing something. Mike’s assertive voice came back on a minute later. “He followed her into her bedroom, sir. He’s definitely in there. Most likely staying the night, too. He usually does if he doesn’t leave after five to ten minutes after dropping her off.”

Wretched fuck! How often did this cretin sleep with her?

“Are you quite positive he hasn’t left? Check the footage again, Mike!” I sounded demented, but I didn’t give a bloody fuck. Before I did anything drastic, I urgently needed an infallible guarantee the besotted bastard was with her. This was critical—to me, anyway.

“He’s still in there. I have time stamps. Do you need me to send the footage?”

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