“Of course not,” she answers, as she stands back up, looking a bit sheepish. “Have I been keeping you from your duties?”
How does she do that? Make everything her fault. I cross over to her, lifting her in my arms. She comes easily, wrapping around me, her nose touching mine.
It’s this small act of intimacy and I don’t know why, but I love it. I’ve never shared something like this with anyone else, and it makes the embrace special. Everything is different with her.
I close my eyes. What I can’t tell her is that I don’t really need to work. I’m just having an attack of conscience. Like heartburn.
I need to look at everything I’ve done and make sure that I’m still sure. It annoys the fuck out of me. I never hesitate, and I certainly don’t backtrack. But watching Sasha worry over her sister, knowing that in one move I have taken that person away from her, all while stealing her greatest asset. It’s making me feel like shit.
I reluctantly let her go and make my way into my office. Pulling all the files that have to do with deals I’m making for Sasha’s and Katarina’s casinos, I review the contracts, the permits, the city clauses. I don’t know what I’m looking for.
Clarity? Assurance? An escape plan?
I sit back in my chair, jamming the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, no closer to answers.
That’s when a soft knock sounds at the door.
“Come in, baby,” I call, placing the accounting books I need to go through over the sale documents. I don’t know what I want to do, or what can be done, but I’m beginning to understand that my great plan to secede from my family by stealing from my wife was a fucking lousy idea.
Except it means that I’m married to Sasha. That is the silver lining in the gray cloud I’ve made for myself.
She softly opens the door, her petite frame and curtain of dark hair pulling me up from my chair.
“Hungry?” she asks.
I’m famished, but I wish I’d found actual answers to the problems that I’ve done my best to create.
Moving around the desk, I stop in front of her. “I could eat. You?”
“Yeah,” she answers, wrapping her arms around me. “I made a little something for us.”
“You cook for me, sweetheart?”
“Cooking is a strong word. I made sandwiches.” She gives a nervous giggle. “Like I said, you might have to teach me to cook if that’s going to be one of my duties.”
I wince as I nuzzle her neck.
Her value to me had been in real estate. And attraction.
The actual division of labor hadn’t occurred to me at all. I gather her close, crystal clear on one thing I’d like to do for her. “After dinner, I’d like a bit of dessert.”
She laughs, a giggle that sounds just a touch nervous. I cup her chin, bringing her lips to mine. I take my time with the kiss, tasting her, enjoying her softness, her sweetness.
When I lift my head, her eyes are unfocused and her mouth puffy from my attention. It makes me hot as fuck. “You sore from last night?”
“A bit,” she answers, a wince pulling at her features. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
I shake my head. There has been enough pain for her. “We’ll give it another day. I just want the taste of you on my tongue.”
“Oh,” she breathes in, her fingers threading into my hair, her body becoming more pliant against mine.
I lift her in my arms, one of my hands slipping up under her dress, cupping her ass cheek. She wraps her legs around my waist, a move I fucking love, her ankles locking behind my back.
I slide my hand between her legs, rubbing her panty-covered pussy. I’d love nothing more than to bury myself inside her.
I can’t ever remember wanting a woman as much as I want her, especially the second time around.
But last night only whet my appetite. I want more of Sasha wrapped around every part of me.
