My clit throbs in protest of the denied orgasm. Every heartbeat makes it worse. I press my thighs together and the friction is a tease. A reminder of how close I was.
I’ve never been left like this. Wound tight enough to scream.
I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
I use the tissues to clean my face, and all I can think about is how badly I need to orgasm. Holy fuck. My body is one exposed wire, sparking at nothing.
This was probably the point.
Tony gave me what I wanted. Adrian made me want more.
Chapter 5
I take a quick trip to the bathroom before I leave, and the fluorescent light is unforgiving, the mirror showing me someone I didn’t know existed. There’s mascara smudged beneath my eyes. My lips are swollen. I’m flushed, and I look like exactly what I am—a woman who got fucked in a storage room and sent away unsatisfied.
I fix what I can, wetting a paper towel to scrub at my face, smoothing my hair, tugging my dress back into place.
When I’m semi-presentable I speed walk as fast as I can in these heels. All I can think about is getting home to Robert. I need my husband.
By the time I get to my car, I’m trembling so hard I can hardly unlock the door.
Once I’m inside, I pull out my phone.
SHANNON:Settled some of my tab. Tony says hi. On my way.
I stare at the message after I send it.
Tony didn’t say hi. I don’t even know if Adrian actually settled my debt. It doesn’t matter.
Forty-two minutes until home.
I fucked two men tonight. Tony’s mark is on my thigh. I missed some of the cum on my face. I can feel it dried and crusty.
As I drive, things surface. The stuff I’ve been pushing down since Tony’s office. The photo with the state senator. Adrian walking in without knocking. Like an equal.
The conversation about suppliers. About payments. They’re not just running a casino.
I don’t know what they’re doing, but it requires political connections and backup plans and men like Adrian who handle problems coldly and without sentiment.
Robert wouldn’t want me going back if he knew. I’m certain of that. He said yes to extramarital sex, not to whatever is happening at that casino.
Part of me doesn’t want to tell him at all. Because telling him might mean losing access to this. To whoever I become when I walk through those casino doors.
When I pull into our garage, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Well, what I’m going to do after I get my husband’s cock inside me. That’s the priority.
Robert is waiting in the bedroom.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed in sweatpants and nothing else. When I walk in, his gaze rakes over me. The smeared makeup. The wrinkled dress. The way I’m fighting to hold myself together.
“Shannon.” He’s on his feet, crossing to me in two strides. One hand grasps my waist and the other cups my face, tilting my chin up. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” My voice cracks. “No. I don’t know.”
“Tell me.”
I give him the highlights of Tony’s office, and Robert’s breathing speeds up. His hold on my waist goes rigid.
I tell him about the poker table. The reckless bets. The thousands I threw away because I was chasing a high.
