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And because I can’t help myself (and I really don’t like this guy), I ask, “You don’t know where your wife is?”
He stammers and stutters a few moments before averting his eyes. “Well, we’ve had some trouble lately. She was staying with her sister for a short period of time, but I’ve come to collect.”
“Collect her?” What is this, the 1950s?
“Yes. It’s time she comes home. Where she belongs,” he says very matter-of-factly, like it’s a no-brainer.
“The only place I belong is away from you,” I hear behind me in a voice that screams sex. It’s raw and full of passion. Of course, there’s enough venom laced in those words to kill a cobra, but that just adds fuel to the burning lust I already have for her. What can I say? Her attitude and take-no-shit demeanor turns me on.
Bad.
“Alexis,” Chris says, stepping around me and walking towards his wife. Yeah, that fucking hurts to think about. Her eyes are hard with laser-sharp beams shooting straight at the man in front of her.
“Firecracker,” I whisper, not meaning to say it aloud. But when her eyes clash with my own, I swear the entire earth moves. Those deep green eyes soften a little and her breath catches. She scans my face, then takes in the way my black shirt molds to my arms and chest, before returning her gaze to my face. My dick goes from zero to sixty in less than a second.
My view of her is cut off when the douche steps in and kills the fantasy. “Listen, Alexis, I know you’re upset, but we can work this out. It’s time to come home,” he says directly, but I can hear the desperation in his words.
“Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’, Chris. There is no home. There is no us! There is nothing left because of you, and what you did!” she exclaims, stepping around him and heading towards the apartment next door.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but if you’d -” he starts, but is cut off when his wife spins around and gets in his face.
“If I’d what? Just listen to reason? Screw that and screw you, Chris. You got the papers Friday. This marriage is over. Over. Done. Finished. I want you to leave,” she says with force before turning her attention to opening her door.
“Alexis, don’t be difficult,” Chris says behind her, and I swear I can actually feel the loathing roll off her body. Of course, it’s not directed at me, but I can feel it the same. With my arms crossed over my chest, I relax against the wall and watch the show.
“Difficult? Difficult?!” she hollers. “Read my lips, Chris. I want a divorce. I want you out of this building and out of my life. There’s nothing difficult about that. It’s a simple signature on the indicated line. You sign, I sign, and we both get what we want.”
“That isn’t what I want. At all.”
“Yeah, well, now you know how it feels.” I have no clue what she’s talking about, but the asshole must. He lowers his head. “Go.”
“This isn’t over,” he whispers.
“It’s over,” she confirms with conviction. “Go.”
“I’m not leaving until we talk this through. We can make this work,” he starts, and that’s when I move. I’m walking up to them before I have a chance to consider my actions.
“I think the lady asked you to leave,” I state, arms still crossed at my chest.
He opens his mouth as if he’s ready to argue, but must think better of it. My face is hard as I give him my best “try me” face. I’ve perfected the look over the years; it comes with bartending at some pretty rowdy joints back in Westville.
“I’ll be in touch,” he says, turning and heading towards the elevator. Fortunately, it’s still on our floor since Lexi’s arrival just a few minutes ago.
“You can contact me through my attorney,” she replies, her own arms crossed at her chest. Only her actions push her perfect tits up and spilling out over the top of her shirt. It’s a marvelous view.
Silently, we watch and wait for him to leave, my eyes shifting to the elevator.
When the door is closed, I turn my attention back to her. “So, that was the husband, huh?”
“Ex.”
Stepping forward, I invade her personal space. Her eyes are alive with fire, but not in the way they were a moment ago with the douche. No, her eyes dance with a heady mixture of excitement and lust as she glares back at me. “Watching you tear him apart and eat him alive was so fucking hot,” I confess, touching the side of her cheek with my finger.
Her gasp echoes in the hall, invading my soul and filling my mind with dirty images. Ones of her and me, naked, and making little noises just like that. “I hear cold showers work wonders to help cool you down,” she suggests with a smirk.
“Are you joining me in said shower?”
“Not in this lifetime, bucko.”
