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Chapter nineteen
Real man
“YoucantellKentto shove his offer up his ass,” Birgitta snapped.
She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, her phone pressed to her ear. On the other end of the line, she could hear her lawyer shuffling papers and clearing his throat.
“You want me to use those exact words?” He asked, clearly uncomfortable.
“Say whatever you want,” Birgitta said. “He can take his belongings but he’s not having anything of mine. My mother gave me that vanity table. It was my grandmother’s.”
“Well, that’s not really the point,” the lawyer said, his voice creaking like an old door. “You’ve agreed to split the household items evenly.”
“Yes,” Birgitta snapped, louder this time. “Evenly. He can have everything that belonged to him and I will have everything that belonged to me.”
“That’s . . .” He clammed up then.
Birgitta didn’t let him collect his thoughts. “No, he’s being unreasonable. He can have his stuff, but he can’t have mine.”
She didn’t give the lawyer time to reply. She hung up the phone as quickly as she could and set it down on the kitchen counter.
For a moment she stood there, eyes closed and focused on her breathing. She could feel the tension in her body, rising up like a horrible vice wrapped around her torso.
Kent had hired a family friend of theirs, a big-shot divorce lawyer. Of course, he’d gotten there first. Birgitta had been so busy being happy that she hadn’t even thought about hiring a lawyer. Now she was stuck with some idiot boy who had only been working in law for a short time.
Sure, he was licensed and working at a big firm, but he wasn’t a veteran like Kent’s lawyer. He always came to her, his tail between his legs as he tried to convince her to take Kent’s offers.
There was no way. Kent was asking for the house and all of their belongings. It didn’t matter that she’d earned more money, contributed to the majority of the mortgage, and furnished their house almost entirely on her own.
None of that mattered to Kent. He was clearly too miserable to think about anything other than how he was going to get his money’s worth. She’d had enough of his freeloading. Now that they were getting divorced, she wasn’t going to let him keep doing it.
It was painful enough that she was going to have to pay him alimony. It was always awarded to the needier spouse, and considering his pay was atrocious, it was no question he would be awarded it by the court. Birgitta knew she was going to have to suck that up and deal with it. At least Julia was grown, so he couldn’t claim support for her as well.
Birgitta opened her eyes when she felt warm, strong arms wrap around her waist. Her hands slid up the brown arms, feeling the hairs gently graze across her palms. His scent infiltrated her nose: a strong, musky scent that she would know anywhere.
She instantly relaxed into his arms, letting her body lean back against his chest. Malik supported her weight, cradling her against his large body. It felt amazing having a man that comforted her when she was sad and reacted to her emotions without prompting.
As soon as she was in a bad mood, Malik would be by her side, there to cheer her up. Just being in his arms was enough to make her feel better. Whenever he was around, she knew she was safe.
“Come on,” Birgitta said softly, all the anger gone from her voice. “Let’s eat.”
Malik clamped his arms tighter around her, not allowing her to move from his grasp. Birgitta smiled and sighed, trying to sound frustrated.
“Come on,” she whispered. “We have stuff to do today.”
Malik still didn’t release her. Birgitta stayed there, waiting for him to do something. She knew he was playing a little game—a game that always ended with her being bent over and fucked. It was already in his mind, planned out to perfection. Who was Birgitta to stop him from living out his fantasies?
Malik’s lips moved down to her neck, almost predictably. Birgitta knew what was coming. An excited feeling fluttered through her stomach as she wondered what he was going to do next. She could already feel his cock pushing against her ass, getting harder with every second that passed.
His hands moved down her stomach, toward her thighs, and within a second his stomach was pushing against her back. Birgitta didn’t resist. She bent over the kitchen counter, her ass sticking out against his hips.
Malik’s hands slid around her thighs and up toward her ass. Within a second, his thumbs had hooked themselves between her waistband and her skin. He tugged at the fabric, easing it off her ass. Birgitta felt her breaths catch in her throat as she felt his hands gliding down her thighs, removing her clothes.
His cock pressed against her ass, fitting snugly between her cheeks as his arms wound around her waist. They headed straight for her clit, his fingers outstretched and ready to please. As soon as they went under the fabric and touched her pussy, a small laugh rumbled out of Malik’s mouth.
“You slut,” he moaned. “You’re so wet.”
He removed his hands from her pussy and grabbed hold of her hips seconds before thrusting against her. Birgitta went flying forward on the counter, her head almost smacking into the wall. She moaned, feeling his cock pressed tightly against her dripping lower lips.
