But more than all of that, I hate that the naysayers were right. Sean is a dick, and a liar and a cheater. And I married him.
I have a million questions, and as much as I want to ask them, there will be no point to it. Getting answers won’t solve anything, and it will probably just be lie after lie anyway.
The damage is done, and while I might have been clueless as fuck, I’m not a doormat, and I will not take back a cheater.
This is over.
So fucking over.
I leave the doorway, scrambling away, and back to where I dropped my purse on the table near the front door. I need to get out of here, away from him, from her, from all of this.
“Quinn, wait,” Sean calls, and I hate the way my name sounds on his lips, and I whip around to look at him.
There’s a towel wrapped around his waist, his chest is still red from what he was just doing, and there’s not a damn thing he can say that will convince me to stay.
“Baby,” he croons, and I wrinkle up my nose, shaking my head vehemently. “Don’t be like this. You know it was just a one-time thing, a mistake. I’ve been under so much stress, and this was?—”
“I don’t want your excuses. She can have you, or my guess would be that it’s just not as exciting now that I know. All the sneaking around must have been so fucking fun. Such a turn-on wondering if you’ll get caught.”
Every word is laced with venom, a painful sting on my tongue, but it needs to be said. I need to get it all out because this will be the last time I speak to him. Not just that, it will be the last time I see him.
“It wasn’t like that,” Sean tries, and I let out a humorless laugh.
“I don’t care what it was like. It’s over. This,” I pause, motioning between us, the tears still spilling, but my hurt is now replaced with rage, “will never happen again. And you will stay the hell away from me because if you don’t, I’m going to the media.” My face is stoic now, and I feel so fucking powerful. Looking down at my finger where my massive five-carat diamond sits, the nausea still bubbling at the surface, I slide it from my finger and whip it at his head as I walk out the door.
I wake up in a vaguely unfamiliar room. I can tell it’s a hotel room, though, and beside me, I can hear the soft snores of someone who doesn’t wake early to catch waves like I do.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I roll to the edge of the bed, swinging my legs out as I sit butt naked, my elbows resting on my knees as I try to wake up. I’ve never really been a morning person either, but I love surfing enough that I’ve trained myself to become one.
There isn’t much I love more than surfing, to be honest.
Well, except for my family and friends.
And fucking.
“You’re leaving?” comes a muffled question behind me as fingers walk a slow path up my back.
With a grin, I glance back over my shoulder at the chick I picked up last night. A tourist, obviously, out here with her girlfriends for a weeklong bachelorette party. Not the soon-to-be bride, though; that’s where I absolutely draw the line.
I might like to fuck around, but I always make sure the girl is single and willing.
“Yeah, was gonna go catch some waves,” I say, my smile widening as she props herself up on her elbow. The sheet falls from her body to reveal her tits, the telltale tan lines from a week in the Hawaiian sun obvious.
“Sure I can’t entice you to stay a bit longer?” she asks, biting her bottom lip.
I chuckle, reaching over to trail a slow finger along one of those tan lines. “I mean, I really wanna go surf,” I start. “But I guess I could be enticed,” I add, my finger dropping to her left breast, tracing a slow path around her already hardened nipple. “What did you have in mind?”
She smiles, throwing the sheet the rest of the way off now as she slides toward me. “I was thinking of a repeat of last night,” she suggests.
“Getting drunk with your friends?” I tease as she moves so she’s sitting beside me on the bed.
“I was thinking,” she starts, throwing a leg over so she’s now straddling me, her arms resting on my shoulders as she arches her back a little, so her tits are pretty much at mouth level.
“Yeah?” I ask, leaning down to flick my tongue over her nipple as my hands grip her hips.
“Maybe I could take you for another ride,” she suggests, pushing her other tit toward my mouth.
“Fuck it, okay,” I growl, sucking her into my mouth as I reach for another condom on the nightstand.
