Page 98 of Marry Lies
I want to kiss her, touch her,feelher body against mine.
My days are empty without her, and though I know we’re both still feeling this relationship out, I already know I want to be around her for longer than a dinner.
I quickly finish out my batched emails, hoping to be able to spend the afternoon with her before our date, and I suddenly remember something Juliet said about Chase last weekend.
Chase used to be like that. But I made him start working normal hours.
Just as I go to shut my laptop, Estelle opens the door to our suite. Her lips break into a wide smile as she walks over to me, andfuck…my eyes slowly wander down her sleek curls, to her neck and cleavage, to the strip of bare skin on her stomach, to the way the band of her pants cinches her waist, and those heels…
“You’re drooling,” she says, setting her purse down and stepping out of her shoes.
“I can’t help it,” I murmur as my eyes wander up to her face. “I have the most beautiful wife in the world.” Her cheeks flush at my words. “So, how did it go?”
She shrugs. “It went well, I think. We’ll see how well it went when the article comes out next month.”
I furrow my brows. “Surely she must’ve loved the idea for VeRue,” I say softly, feeling defensive.
Estelle pulls her lower lip between her teeth. “She did. But then she asked about you and insinuated that I was some naive girl being taken advantage of by ‘a very powerful family,’” she finishes and lets out an angry huff. “Don’t worry. I defended your honor. It was just frustrating because everyone has this preconceived notion of you, and it pisses me off.”
My lips twitch with a smile as her chest flushes with anger and contempt. If she wasn’t already my wife, her defending my honor like this might make me want to ask her to do so.
I open my mouth to speak, but Estelle continues as she takes a step closer. “No wonder you needed me. People have it all wrong. They have no idea what a great person you are,” she says, her voice gentle.
I swallow and look down at the floor, the guilt making my throat clog up.
Do great people lie to their wife? The same wife they coerced into marriage?
“Well, thank you,” I tell her. “I appreciate you defending my honor,” I say, tugging on her pants and pulling her between my knees. “Really. It means a lot,” I add, just as her hand comes to my neck.
I close my eyes, working past the urge to shove her hand away. Grinding my jaw, I take a deep breath.
“Do you want to go on a walk with me?” I ask, looking up at her.
“Sounds lovely. But first, I need to go take a shower. I was so nervous I think I sweat through my top,” she answers, pulling away and walking to the bathroom door. When she gets to the frame, she turns to face me, arching a brow before continuing into the shared bathroom.
Did she just…
I wait for her to close the door, but she makes no move to do so. Instead, I hear her turn the shower on, and my mouth goes dry when realization dawns.
She wants me to watch.
I’m already hard by the time I stand, so I adjust myself in my pants and walk over to the bathroom door. Estelle is already in the shower, and I can’t see anything other than the outline of her hourglass-shaped body because of the steam against the glass. Does she know I’m here? Does she want me here? Or did I read the signs all wrong? Just as I consider leaving, she uses her hand to clear the steam, and my mouth drops open when I realize she’s staring right at me on the other side of the glass.
Instead of acknowledging me, she just gives me a tiny smile and goes about her shower. She lathers shampoo into her hair, and when she’s done, she tips her head back to rinse it out. As she does, her hands come to her heavy tits, massaging them in the soap of the shampoo. A low moan escapes her throat, and she stays under the stream of the shower for a few seconds, twisting her dusty pink nipples. The water runs down her golden skin, and my eyes track to the small patch of blonde curls between her legs.
It makes me think of the photo she let me take—the same photo that had gotten me off several times in the bathroom of RCF between meetings.
She’d somehow turned me into a horny teenager again—eager to watch, eager to play, always in the mood. Knowing I have a picture of her cunt dripping with my seed, knowing I always have that picture on me…it’s been my saving grace these last few days, especially being so busy and away from her.
But now I’m ready to be inside of her again.
I take a step closer as I palm my pulsing cock. She clears the steam away again as she pumps some conditioner into her hand before smoothing it over her hair. My cock twitches when I get a whiff of it—the reaction is totally psychosomatic now that I’ve used it to jerk off a few times. She turns away from me, taking the bar of soap and working a lather over her chest, moaning as she gets to her tits again.
Fuck.
Me.
I step closer so that I’m just on the other side of the glass.
