What the fuck was Natalie doing? She was my wife—did she even think how this hit the Winston name? I bet tomorrow's headlines would scream, "Mrs. Winston throws fit at Olivia."
"Natalie!"
My voice cut through the crowd, laced with rage.
She heard me. Her body jerked, but she spun and pushed through the people, heading up to the second-floor dressing room.
I shoved past everyone, ignoring Olivia's hurt look, and chased after her.
The dressing room door was shut. I stood there, chest heaving.
The hallway was quiet, just the wall lamp casting a dim yellow glow. I stared at the closed door, tried the handle—locked from inside.
"Natalie." My tone warned.
No sound.
"Open it." I knocked hard.
Still nothing.
I waited three seconds.
Then my patience snapped.
No more bullshit. I kicked the door open. It slammed into the wall with a thud.
The second it swung wide, Natalie faced away from me. She'd stripped off the gown, down to just panties, skin exposed everywhere. Light poured down from above, lighting up her bare back, smooth skin, slim waist...
I stopped dead.
The breath in my throat shifted gears, and my cock stirred.
She jumped at the kick, whipping around, arms crossing her chest instinctively.
That cute, dumb reaction made me throb hard.
After all, facing me like this just let me see her body better.
My gaze dropped to her belly.
It was a little rounder than before.
I stared longer.
Eyes stuck, couldn't pull away.
Hadn't noticed before. But damn... it looked better.
I wanted to fuck her right here, but my brain screamed about what she'd just done.
I sucked in a deep breath, stepped in, and shut the door. The lock clicked, sealing out the hallway light and noise. In this tight space, it was just her breathing and mine.
She stared at me, chest rising under her arms. Lashes wet, lips pressed tight...
"You were rude as hell today," I said, voice low but each word hitting hard. "Splashing wine in front of everyone and walking off."
She didn't speak. Just stared, chin up a bit. Like, so what?
