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The softness in his voice matches the solemn look on his face. Maybe it’s a lie, but something tells me it isn’t. Nobody is that good of a liar.
Nothing about my time with Huxley has been sweet or loving. Most of the time has been spent with him being angry at me, sometimes with reason and other times not. But I’ve seen glimpses of the man he hides from the world. I can’t understand why because he seems to have a normal family and upbringing. But I like that version. I like Huxley because he doesn’t apologise for who he is. I envy that reassurance. I pretend to have it, but I long for it.
“You’re fucked,” Graham laughs. “Never let a woman into your head, or else you think with your cock, not your brain.”
Janie looks disheartened at his words but plasters on a smile. “I think it’s beautiful. Congratulations on finding true love.”
“Thank you.”
“How about you?” Graham says. “You love him enough to stay loyal?”
“Yes.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind joining me on the dance floor?”
Just as he says that, two large doors on the other side open, and the flock goes running. I look at Huxley, who shakes his head.
“Don’t trust her?” he goads.
“Let’s go,” I say.
“Sweetheart,“ Huxley says with warning.
I smile at him. “We came to have some fun. Let’s do that, and then we can go.” I try to reassure him with my eyes, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Two songs. Six minutes. Can you be without me for that long?”
“Four minutes, absolutely maximum.”
I lean down and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be okay,” I whisper before taking Graham’s hand.
“If there is one scratch on her…” He doesn’t have to finish his threat.
Graham laughs. “Don’t worry. That’s not my kink.”
The upbeat dance music is not what I was expecting. I look around at the men and women, all elegantly dressed, and realise what thisdancefloor really is. Heads dip down, followed by the sound of cocaine being snorted. Cheers echo as the high forces sweaty bodies onto the dance floor. Grown men and women dance on one another like horny teenagers.
Oh fuck.I rub my belly.Sorry, little one. Please forgive me, and don’t ever tell your dad.
I pull Graham into the middle of the dance floor, ensuring he can’t see into the dining area. My moves are pathetic, but I don’t want to dance on this man who makes me feel sick. There’s something evil in his eyes as he fucks me with them.
“How tight is your pussy?” he murmurs into my ears.
I’m going to vomit.
“You’ll never know.” The words come out with force rather than as a tease.
His hands come around my waist and rest above my pubic bone. “If I had you, I’d never let you out of the house. I would fuck you every day.”
His cold hands can be felt through my dress. He inhales my scent, and I fight the gag. Goosebumps raise in a terror alert as he holds me in place and thrusts his hips against my ass. I look around at the other dancers, but they’re all too drunk and drugged to notice I am one second away from hurling all over the floor.
Two hands pull at my arms and out of his embrace. “Four minutes, sweetheart.” Huxley practically drags me off the dance floor.
“Your wife is a wonderful dancer!” he calls out after us with a laugh.
But I’m already running out of there. The night air does little to ease the queasiness. The second we round the corner, I vomit and don’t stop until I’m retching.
He hands me a napkin, which I use to wipe away any residue. “What that pregnancy or…”
I shake my head. “Let’s go. I need to shower.”
