“Come inside me, baby,” I urged. “Make me yours.”
With a guttural groan he withdrew. Supporting me with one hand, he pumped his hand over himself and came feverishly on the inside of my dress.
What the fuck?My labored breathing hitched in my throat as I looked down between us. Wetness stuck on my thigh, making me feel used and dirty.
He set me harshly on the ground, and my cum-soaked skirts fell around me.
“What was that?” I cried.
He zipped up his pants and leaned over, placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
“Did you just come on my dress?” I asked.
“I told you, Olivia,” he said, snapping upright. “I won’t come in someone who doesn’t belong to me, andyou do not.”
I gaped at this man I didn’t know. It wasn’t fair of me to say I was his, but that was clearly nothing more than heat-of-the-moment declarations. They didn’t count. His cold demeanor starkly contrasted our last clandestine meeting. He released a booming curse and turned his back to me.
I stood there in shock, trying to wrap my head around everything that had just happened—the words, the actions . . .
The implications. Someone could’ve seen us. If they hadn’t, my infidelity had to be written all over my disheveled hair, swollen lips, and scratched into my back by the tree bark.
“I have to get back,” I said, my heart pounding.
“Go, then,” he bit out. “Just fucking go.”
My hand flew to my mouth as I stifled a sob. David’s dismissal—even if it was only a product of his pain—hurt more than his daggered words. I’d done that to him. I wanted to runtohim, not away—to comfort him, find comfortinhim, and let the world fall away in his arms . . .
But David made it clear he didn’t need that right now. And even if he did, I could’ve given it to him. The man I’d vowed to love and cherish didn’t deserve any of this. Fucking another man was one thing, but staying to comfort him now would be worse.
I stumbled backward before turning to run up to the house.
Yet I couldn’t escape the pain of David’s rejection and dismissal. It physically hurt, almost too much to bear.
It only served to remind me why I never let anyone get too close, not even my husband.
19
As I rushed from the woods behind the house and into the mansion’s foyer, I nearly collided with Bill. He pushed his black mask to his forehead. “Hey,” he said. “I was just coming to look for you.”
I fought for a deep breath, suffocating in his proximity. “I—I just have to run to the bathroom,” I said, backing away.
“Didn’t you already go?”
“There was a line.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked. “I was just over there. No line.”
I could feel David, sticky against my thigh, and the memory of his fingers digging into my face. I needed to get far away from Bill. My heart stopped when I noticed he was peering at my dress. He reached out, but I jumped back.
“Is that blood?” he asked.
“No,” I hissed, even though it clearly was and had to be from David’s hand when he’d punched the tree. I blew past Bill toward the staircase. I cursed as I hastened up it to find somewhere private. As soon as I found a guest bathroom far from the party, I locked the door.
“Liv?” Bill asked moments later, jiggling the doorknob. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Fuck. I needed a moment to clean myself. To wrap my head around the fact that I had to face my husband moments after I’d let David screw me against a tree.
I went to whip open the door and yell at him but stopped myself. I loosened my shoulders, eased it ajar, and met Bill’s questioning gaze. “I’m fine,” I said calmly.
