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Rose turned and walked up the stairs. There was nothing she needed to do up there. It was a convenient escape. She refused to have the same conversation one more time. None of her attempts made a difference. The only logical reason he was putting any effort in now was because he thought she would never leave. It was too little too late. She made her choice. She already took her name off everything they had together. She took enough money to hold her over until she found a job. Plans changed. In the morning, she was headed to New Mexico to save Lucas’ ass one last time. There was no going back from the deal she made.
Leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, Rose waited.
“I’m not giving up,” Warren growled as his phone rang. “You are my heart, Petal.”
Rose held her breath until she heard him answer the call. It wasn’t long before the soft click of the door closing and the sound of his truck roaring to life signaled he was gone. She knew he would be back. Hopefully, she would be gone before then. Her heart couldn’t take another round with him.
Rose made her way back down the stairs after she could no longer hear the noise of his engine. Suitcases and piles of clothes were waiting for her. Walking past them, she headed to the kitchen instead. The last beer was calling her name. The icy brew did little to put the pieces of her heart back together.
Looking around, Rose decided to tackle the kitchen first. Hours passed as she packed. Her back was sore, and she was out of tape by the time she was done. Sliding the boxes across the floor to her pile, Rose was ready to call it a night. Her body ached. She wanted to cry when she saw her clothes that were littered all over the living room floor.
Rose opted for a shower first. The sun had long since set, and darkness settled over the house. Snatching her shower bag off the floor, she trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. The hot water washed away the dirt and sweat of the day, but it did nothing for her head or her heart. Nothing but time could heal those hurts.
Rose let out a wry laugh. The irony of time, too much or not enough. It didn’t matter. The results were the same. She couldn’t stay and enjoy the water. She only had a few more hours before she had to leave, and the clothes on the floor needed to be dealt with.
She didn’t bother with pajamas since no one would see her anyway. Tugging a tee over her head was good enough. Rose checked off the things she had to do in her head as she went back downstairs. The last thing she had to do was her suitcase.
“Screw it,” she sighed as she began shoving clothes in anywhere she could find room.
Sitting on the tops was the only way to get them zipped. It was late enough that no one would be peeking out the window to see her fighting luggage in a t-shirt and no panties. Even if a neighbor caught a look at her ass, what did she care? It wasn’t like she was going to see them every day anymore. Yanking her luggage out the door, Rose wrestled them into the car. The sound of a motorcycle cruising by caught her attention. It was a quiet neighborhood. The kind that locked their doors at the sound of loud pipes. Looking up, she saw Roach cruise down the middle of the deserted street.
“Great. I had no idea my new home came with my very own fan club.”
Rose was relieved when the man kept going. She had enough to think about without a horned-up biker watching her every move. Letting herself inside, she locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief as silence closed around her.
“Six a.m. comes early,” she muttered, staring at the sleeping bag on the floor, wishing she hadn’t sold her bed. “It’s going to be a long drive tomorrow.”
Rose plugged her phone in and made one last trip around her house. When she was satisfied, she crawled into the sleeping bag on the hard floor. Clearing her mind enough to sleep was next to impossible. One tear slipped out as she stared up at the ceiling. The next one followed until Rose wiped it away. She wasn’t going to cry. This was life. She was an intelligent, resourceful woman. If anyone could figure a way out of this, she could.
The stresses of a tiring day caught up with her as she struggled to get comfortable. Her eyes closed as she drifted off to sleep.
Her mind created the most delicious dream. Only in sleep did she allow her body to betray her. It welcomed his touch, craved his mouth on hers, and demanded the connection they shared.
“Warren,” Rose whispered.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her back tight to his chest as his hands snaked under her shirt to cup her breast. Those talented fingers teased her nipples as she ground her ass on his hardness, and wetness coated her thighs. When his cock slipped between her legs to tease her pussy, it only took two strokes before she came.
“That’s it, my precious Petal.”
Rose hummed when his lips landed on her neck. His hot breath caressed her skin as his hands trekked down her body. She shivered when he reached the juncture of her legs. Warren’s fingertips traced the outside of her pussy.
“All this for me,” he groaned. “There is no way you can tell me you don’t want me. Petal, you are dripping. I can tell you don’t want to leave me. I won’t let you go.”
Rose’s eyes popped open. Her heart raced as realization set in. This wasn’t a dream. Warren was on the floor with her. Her husband was in the sleeping bag on the living room floor with his hands all over her. She had to stop this before it went too far. All thoughts of telling him to keep his hands to himself disappeared when his finger circled her clit. Her hips chased his hand as he edged her higher.
“Tell me you love me.”
“Warren,” she pleaded.
“That’s me. Your husband. The only man who can do this to you,” he whispered in her ear.
Rose shuddered, squeezing her thighs together, biting her lip, refusing to let the words he wanted to hear out of her mouth.
“Stubborn, beautiful woman. I guess we have to do this the hard way.”
Warren had enough. Silently letting himself in the door, he was prepared to do what he had many times before. Sneak in, hold his beautiful wife in his arms, and convince her to give him more time. He came to try to reason with her one more time before he took drastic measures. Locking them away on the island or in the middle of nowhere with no way home until she agreed to tear up the divorce papers wasn’t out of the question. There were things he needed to tell her, things he should have confessed long ago.
His control evaporated when he found her lying on the floor with her silky blond hair shining like a halo in the moonlight, tossing and turning and mumbling his name. His wife wanted him. Ripping off his clothes, he wasted no time giving her what she wanted.
