“Shit.” What to do, what to do.
Maybe I’ll burn her. It’s fitting for the fucking devil. Snorting out a laugh, I flip around on my stomach and dial Theodore’s number. He answers on the fourth ring, sounding distant against a crashing background.
“What’s going on?” I ask, keeping my voice low so I can’t be heard through the door. Waiting for his response, I listen to his surroundings, confused by all the racket clanging through the speaker.
“Sorry about that,” he wheezes, sounding out of breath as he comes back on the line.
“What were you doing?”
“Making sure Beth doesn’t have any more cameras or other shit hidden in or outside the house.”
Heartbeat beginning to race, I scurry up the bed, pressing my spine against the headboard while I tuck my knees into my chest. “Does she?”
“No cameras so far, but I did find a folder full of photos of us stashed in her underwear drawer.”
That’s kind of a sick place to keep images of your husband fucking another woman. It’s so personal, so private. Almost as if she wanted them in an intimate location.
“Get rid of them.” I already destroyed the memory cards from his security system. It wasn’t enough to delete all the footage. I didn’t tell Theodore, but when I was cleaning, I found her phone lying on the living room floor.
After I smashed it to pieces, I poured it down the garbage disposal, letting it run with the water streaming until I didn’t hear the crunch anymore. If they somehow find a way to check, they’ll see that her last location was home. That could easily be bullshitted.
There’s always an explanation. You just have to believe the shit coming out of your mouth, and others will believe it too. If you can’t blind them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit.
“I am getting rid of them. I already shredded each photo. Now I have them soaking in water, unable to be put together again.”
His cleverness awakens my arousal. Then, ignoring the twinge of pain that shoots up my legs as I spread my thighs, I let my hand travel down, beneath my panties, to my tingling clit.
Massaging in small circles, I open my mouth to keep my moans silent, but Theodore knows me, remarkably so. He knows every noise I make, no matter how small.
“What are you doing over there, pretty girl?”
Exhaling, I lick my lips, catching the bottom between my teeth before whispering, “Touching myself.”
“Oh, yeah? What are you thinking about, baby?” he asks, his voice turning to gravel. The passion in his husky tone has my pace quickening. I apply more pressure to the throbbing ache, pressing down until I’m squirming on my sheets and his name is on the tip of my tongue.
“You,” I finally breathe out. Placing the phone on the pillow beside me, I raise the volume as loud as it could go without needing the speaker, making sure I can hear him before using my other hand to tease my opening.
“God, it feels so good,” I moan, sliding one digit through my slickness. It isn’t enough. My fingers don’t fill me the way his cock does.
“Fuck… I need you, Theodore.”
“You need me, my love? What do you need me to do for you?” he asks, still taunting me with his gritty timbre.
Desperate for his touch, I utter the first thing on my mind. “Come over.”
Theodore grows silent over the phone, nothing but white noise and his slow breathing drifting into my ear from beside me. I twist to look at the screen, ensuring he’s still there before saying, “My parents will be asleep soon. I could sneak you in the back.”
“That’s a big risk, Scarlett. Especially now,” he claims. Seriousness replaces his sexy, throaty gruff, but there’s just enough hesitation for me to slip in.
“It’ll be fine,” I promise, moaning into his ear. “Both of them take sleeping pills to knock them out, and my neighbors don’t stay awake past eight. Just park down the street and come through the side gate. I’ll meet you by the back door.”
I can hear him thinking on the other end. Being as responsible as he is, I know he’s weighing every consequence. But I got under his skin, creating an itch that only I could scratch. He won’t be able to go the rest of the night without shoving himself inside one of my holes.
“Tell me when and I’ll be on my way.”
Our time comes about two hours later. Both my parents called out to me through the door, mumbling their goodnights before locking themselves in their room. I gave it an extra thirty minutes before messaging Theodore, needing to verify their pills had kicked in.
Twenty-five minutes after my text was delivered, I was dragging Theodore through my home. Keeping our steps as quiet as possible, I creep him into my room.
