I step inside, quickly explaining to the nice woman at the front desk I’m here to surprise my husband, and she lets me wander through the large room by myself.
I find him a couple of minutes later, at a table, tucked into a corner at the back, and he’s not alone. I had a suspicion Gino’s reluctance for me to visit was less to do with work and more to do withwhohe was doing, and I was right.
The woman draped around him is stunning with long blonde hair and a pretty face. She looks young. Mid-twenties, if I had to guess. Her navy skirt suit and cream silk blouse are expensive, and the pearls around her neck scream old money. I duck down as they stand to leave, turning around and hiding my face so I’m not spotted.
They exit via a side door, and I follow at a discreet distance.
I watch through the glass door as Gino slides his arm around the slim blonde’s shoulders, drawing her into his side, like he can’t bear to have her far away. She looks up at him like he hung the stars in the sky, and I want to throw up. Gino leans down, kissing her passionately while his arms wrap around her fully. The kiss prolongs, and I’m growing angrier and more agitated as I watch.
He has never kissed me like that. Never held me so close. Never looked at me like that. Not even behind closed doors.
I gulp over the lump in my throat as I consider what this could mean for me—this woman is a threat, and I suddenly realize my life is in danger.
* * *
“What’sa beautiful woman like you doing drinking all alone on a Wednesday afternoon?” a man with a smooth, deep masculine voice asks.
He takes the stool beside me at the hotel bar without invitation. I had felt his eyes on me, and I knew he’d approach at some point. It’s pretty busy in here between residents having a late lunch or early dinner, groups of guys watching the game on the TV, and various businessmen and businesswomen conducting meetings over drinks in the booths at the back.
“Contemplating life and death,” I truthfully reply, raising my glass of Macallan to my lips.
“Macallan 12,” the stranger says, looking at the bottle sitting on the counter in front of me. “Good choice.”
“Not as good as the 18, but I prefer the chocolaty, spicy taste of this vintage. The 18 is a bit too oaky for my taste.”
The bartender approaches. “What can I get you, sir?”
“I’ll have what she’s having. Straight up too.”
I should tell him to leave, but I’ve been sitting here for three hours, seething as I slowly get drunk, and I’m feeling a little reckless. I messaged Ben to pick me up at the Eclipse Hotel when he was en route to the airport, but I have still got a couple of hours to kill. I might as well flirt with someone who isn’t my husband.
I eye him over the rim of my glass, liking what I see. His dark-blond hair is flawlessly styled, slicked back without a strand out of place. His handsome face reveals big green eyes framed by thick lashes, high cheekbones, and a full mouth. His jaw is clean-shaven and he fills out his designer suit well. He swivels in his chair to accept a glass from the bartender, and a waft of his cologne tickles my nostrils. He smells as spicy as the whisky, and maybe I’ll be tempted to drink from his lips.
His eyes heat with molten lava as he clinks his glass against mine, and I know I’m not mistaking his interest. His gaze rakes over my body with zero subtlety, and I’m not sure if I applaud or abhor his confidence.
Perhaps I’ll fuck him.
If my husband is as enamored with his mistress as I think he is, it’s only a matter of time before Gino is plotting ways to off me so he is free to marry her. Might as well get laid before I’m buried six feet under.
“You’re gorgeous.” He sips from his drink as he eye fucks me.
“My husband doesn’t think so.” My eyes bore into his as I throw out that tidbit, waiting to see how he reacts.
“Your husband is a fucking fool.”
I throw back my head, laughing. “He’s a lot of things, but I’m not sure I have heard him called that before.”
“You’re not from here,” he deduces.
“I’m not.” I flash him a smile.
“In town for long?”
My smile widens. “Nope. My brother is coming to pick me up soon to take me to the airport.”
“Hmm.” He rubs a hand over his smooth chin. “I might need to hit the fast forward button.”
“Are you always this presumptuous?” I inquire, taking another mouthful of my drink. If this was any other time, I’d kick him to the curb. But I’m blistering with rage. My skin feels like it’s ready to peel off my body, and my inner voice is screaming in frustration and anger. I need physical contact to regain some control. And I want to fuck someone who isn’t my husband. I want to fuck a stranger savagely and take everything out on him. So, this guy with his cocky flirtations and crass innuendos will do the job.
