There was a scarlet mist in front of my eyes. Was I going to stroke out right here beside my own Olympic-sized pool?
“Fuck—Birdie—it wasn’t like that—”
Pierre-Phillipe carefully lifted her off, Birdie’s asshole fluttering with beautiful ruin in the breeze as cum oozed back down his condom and collected in his balls.
My hand was already around his throat, dragging Pierre-Phillipe out of the chair as my apology roses scattered all over the lawn.
“Get the fuck out of here! What do you think you’re doing with my wife?”
I shoved as hard as I could and Pierre-Phillipe stumbled backwards, his condom hanging limply off his dick.
“I’m not your wife!” Birdie said in a cold voice.
His eyes looked wide with horror as he tried to escape me.
“Monsieur, you forget yourself. You quite mistake the matter. If I had known you—I thought after the wedding was canceled—”
“You thought wrong,” I snapped. “The wedding was only postponed.”
Birdie rose from the chair, her tits jostling slippery and slick with sweat in front of me.
Beautiful big as hell naturals, round perky rosy tits, best damn tits in the business, and they were here with the revolting marks of Pierre-Phillipe’s mouth on them.
“Oh, the hell it was, Forrest!” she snarled, and goddamn, she looked sexy as hell, her curls a wild mess all over, freckled nose wrinkling as she looked up at me, light hazel eyes smudged with mascara.
“You don’t get to come here afterleaving me at the altarpretending like we’re still together. We aren’t. You have no right to berate Pierre-Phillipe for exploring our longstanding chemistry.”
“Your what?” I roared, and he was already grabbing wet swim trunks and trying to get out of range.
“Let me just get my toothbrush,” he yelped, dancing lightly away from me and I felt hot, angry blood pulsing through my veins.
“You let him sleep over?”
“Why not,” Birdie said casually, adjusting her swimsuit, but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover both her beautiful cheeks, and they jiggled enticingly up and down. “I’m a free woman.”
“What the hell has gotten into you?”
When the Frenchman made a move toward the house, I grabbed a chair and charged at him.
“Monsieur, please—think of your dignity—” Pierre-Phillipe protested, but I chased the younger man off the property with a roar, and he made a flying leap over the fence as he attempted to cover his balls from the spiky tips.
“And don’t bother coming to practice!” I roared. “You’re fired.”
After he’d scuttled off down the driveway, I turned back to Birdie, but she wasn’t even watching and had gone back into the house.
“Can I at least assume from the fact that you’re still here that you are open to working this out?”
“No. Squatter’s rights. I’ll stay here in the spare room until I find another sugar daddy, since that’s apparently what everyone thinks I am. Just a gold-digger.”
I grabbed her arm as she turned away, pulling her into me.
“That’s bullshit.”
My hand was on her chin and lust was pumping through me.
I did not share, ever, but my skin crawled with the need to outdo him.
“Now get in the bedroom and I’ll show you who you belong to.”
