Page 109 of For his Surrender

“I didn’t fucking deny what?” I face him seriously and his expression is so surprising that I review his words, looking for what is so important that I may have missed it.Oh, fuck!I expel the air from the lungs, he will not let it lie and the smile taking over his entire face is more than proof of that. “That’s because one of us has his head exactly where it should be, on these contracts.” I point to the papers I put in front of him. “Not in semantics!”

“Semantics? Funny. You were quite worried with semantics months ago when you sat down, right there, where you are now, and made this accusation to me...” Although his words have the right to sound accusatory, taking into account the whole situation, the smile on João’s face makes it clear that he is having fun with all this, having a lot of fun. “Interesting... Is time making you wiser, Marcos?”

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“Every damn second!” He shakes his head, emphasizing his own words. “Now can you start talking, how did we get out of the state of self-pity on your wedding day to your state of apparent happiness today?”

And I tell.

I tell him everything.From Antonella’s situation with her parents to our dinner two nights ago.When I finish, impossibly, the smile on João Pedro’s face seems bigger than when I started.

“You heard the part where I said she has a shitty history with her parents, right? That they’re great motherfuckers... You heard how sad that is, right?” I try to deflect the subject from what his smile tells me will be your next words, only to fail.João Pedro gets up, curves his body on the table, rests his elbows on it and practically screams in my direction.

“I. FU.CKING. TOLD. YOU!” I close my eyes and, if we were in a cartoon, without a doubt, the words of João Pedro would have created a wind capable of shaking my hair.

“Are you done?”

“Oh, Marcos! Don’t expect me to be over for the next ten years!” I close my eyes and raise my eyebrows, with no alternative but to conform myself with it.When I think it’s over, I realize that, again, Antonella screwed me.

?

Antonella is dancing. Like crazy. In the kitchen.

Coming home and finding that vision is definitely a plus side of the marriage.Still wearing a suit and tie, I approach slowly and bite my own fist not to laugh, get her attention and miss the show.I lean on the wall of access to the kitchen to observe.

She has her back to me and shakes her hips in a delicious way wearing nothing but colorful athletic shoes, a tight pants that shows every curve of the lower part of her body and a top that leaves her belly and part of her back exposed.

The clothes have the same colors, navy blue and pink, contrasting with light skin on a level that is impossible not to look at.If her curves weren’t enough to attract gazes, the colors of the clothes certainly would be.

And even though I haven’t seen the front part yet, I have no doubt that I will like what I’m going to see, better yet, I’ll love it.And a lot! But only I should fucking like it! Without any effort, I clench my teeth to deduce where she went dressed like this.

Fuck!The thought of Antonella parading this through a crowded gym, I need to take a deep breath.I take my hand to the back of my head and rub it, relieving the unpleasant feeling that has settled on it. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I swallow, frustrated with myself because I found out I don’t like that feeling.

I’ve never been a jealous guy, but I’ve also never had anyone to be jealous with.And now you have, Marcos?No! I don’t… Antonella and I… We’re just Antonella and I! No one said anything about exclusivity! Yea… Sure, I believe you…Shut up subconscious! I don’t know what good you’re for!

My wife leans back, rests her hands on the counter in front of her and starts twerking her ass at an unbelievable speed and unbelievable method of fucking up a man’s mind as well.Okay, I officially have a hard-on.

I shake my head, laughing softly at myself, and get tired of the role of spectator.I begin to approach slowly, but I stop when I remember what happened the last time I approached her like this.

She’s wearing headphones, and although I don’t think there’s anything I can do to avoid the scare she’ll get when she realizes I’m there, I decide to swallow my will to touch her and not do it deliberately.

I rest my hips on the kitchen island now, just two steps away from Antonella, and I hope.She’s dancing, but with the proximity, she seems to feel my dedicated gaze and turns with a beautiful fucking smile on her face.Her expression is a curious mixture of surprise and acknowledgement.As if she knew I was watching her and yet she was surprised.

One of her hands reaches her ear and she removes one of the earphones that looks more like a marble, so small.

“Hey, babe...” A large step is enough, I’ve got her in my arms. Fuck! Is this supposed to feel as good as it is? Fuck!

Two days since I have no more reason to do nothing but think about Antonella all day.Two days where she seems to have crept under my skin and every layer of neurons I have, because I can’t do anything without remembering of her.

Her smile, her scandalous eyes, her hot body and her acidic mood.Everything seems to be a motive and I don’t really know how to change that.How to stop this feeling that only now, that I hold her in my arms, is the day complete. I’m screwed!

“Hi...” she answers and, looking as eager as I am, kisses me. It’s like always.Voracious, demanding, but never the same as before.Antonella’s tongue invades my mouth, licking and sucking everything she wants and reaches.Delicious doesn’t even begin to describe it, and when she moans softly, I press her against the countertop.

“Mommy...” Isabella’s voice sounds distant, andEllapushes me away immediately.I frown. Right. No physical contacts that could give Isabella any wrong ideas.Antonella fixes her hairs that remain in the very place it was before and straighten the clothes, freeing them from a nonexistent mess.

“Marcos!” the child exclaims as soon as she sees me in the kitchen and runs towards me, “Look! I’m a ballerina!” She shows off.

She wears a pink leotard, a skirt full of layers, also pink sneakers and has her hair caught in a bun adorned by a small bow and a hairnet. I smile at the excited little girl, bend down to hug her and almost get knocked down.

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