Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
And now I have no job.
I quit.
So here I am, sitting in my car, staring up at a hotel I have never been in because I need somewhere to sleep. Getting out, I reach for the bag I packed. It’s not much, but it’s mine. To be honest, right now, I’m not even worried about all the things in that house or the fact that I should have probably stayed and made him leave. But then I also like to be a vindictive bitch, so it was fun to give him payback. I never claimed to be a holy woman. No, I think I am the exact opposite of that.
A holy woman would not imagine all the ways to kill someone. Nor would she have done any of the things I did tonight.
No, I’m altered, a little fucked-up, and truth be told. I like it. Imagine being ordinary; no one wants that. We all want to be exquisite in some way. Not that I would call myself that, either.
Dragging my bag out of the car, I walk straight into the hotel, where the receptionist eyes me in a way that screams why did I pick here?
I don’t know. It wasn’t too far from home and affordable, from what Google told me.
“A room, please, for one,” I tell her, adding my credit card to the counter.
“How long are you after?”
“One night.” She asks for my details and then proceeds to put the card through, tells me my room number, hands me a key, and I thank her before I walk off. It isn’t long until I get to the room, and when I do, I drop the bag and immediately start stripping before my phone rings. And it’s his ringtone, my husband’s.
Glancing at it, I shake my head and pull off my shirt.
And then he calls again.
Huffing, I walk over and reject it. He calls right back.
“Stop calling. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Lil, come home. Let’s talk about this.”
“I watched you fuck her, you know,” I tell him as I kick off the remaining of my clothes and walk into the bathroom. Starting the shower, I continue, “You liked it. You liked fucking her.”
“I liked fucking you too,” he says back, not even denying it. “Come home.”
“No,” I say, and look at myself. My copper-colored hair is a mess. Clearly, it’s seen better days. My cheeks are still flushed from thinking about him and what else he could do to me. My pussy is sore in the best kind of way. My fingers glide along the redness on my throat, trailing down to the light bruising where his fingers squeezed my breast. It’s like I was a tapestry of Reon’s making, and I can’t fight the smirk on my lips.
“We can go to therapy,” he tries again.
I shouldn’t have answered the phone. I know better. We have been disconnected as a couple for so long that when he tries now, I feel nothing.
When did I actually stop loving him? Or better yet, did I ever?
“You think I want to do therapy with you?” I scoff and reach for the shower gel, placing it in the shower as it steams the room. I can still smell Reon on me.
And fuck, he smells good. I even second-guess my shower because it would wash the smell of him from my body.
“I want this marriage to work.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should have thought of that before you stuck your dick in other holes,” I say and hang up on him. He calls back, and I turn my phone off, I don’t want to hear whatever else he is about to say back to me.
FIVE
REON
What a fucked-up situation that was. But I fucking loved every minute of it. Usually, I’m more observant of my surroundings, and pretty women don’t have that effect on me.
However, I would say Lilith is more than pretty. She’s the type of beautiful that makes you shake in your damn boots.
But there is something about her I can’t quite put my finger on.
Even after I’d put my fingers all over her, in her, and around her neck.
Fuck. My cock is getting hard from simply thinking about it. The following day, I go back to the bar, but she never arrives, so when I get back to my car, I climb in and wonder if I should go to her house, since I know where she lives. I mean, I’m pretty sure I was her payback for her husband cheating on her.
Which I would gladly do again.
Fuck. I hope I get to do it again.
How has this woman enamored me so? I’ve never been impacted this deeply before from sex, and I fuck a lot. It wasn’t just the sex, though; it was her.
As I sit, contemplating what the fuck to do, a knock comes on my window. I turn, shocked to see her staring back at me. I lower the window and can’t help but take in how stunning she is, cloaked in darkness, haloed by the street lights, her eyes dark and framed by long lashes.