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“Thank you again for before,” I punctuate the awkward silence and raise my mug.
“You’re welcome. Again.” She sips the tea, her greedy mouth wide around the rim of the mug.
My cock hardens, but I remember something that sends the pulse in my neck throbbing.
I have a date tonight. Not a real date.
I roll my eyes at the absurdity my life turned into.
A few weeks ago, I hired an escort to meet me at the Canterbury Hotel tonight. After months of hedging, I reached out to a discreet service. A tech billionaire who shops at the same clothing store as me highly recommended a particular woman.
Deciding to fuck someone meant I was technically cheating on Ginnifer. But my decision to do this, to find sexual relief outside my marriage since the woman I said vows with never plans to come home, forced me to accept my reality.
That same night, I texted Ginny with my plans and waited for the phone to ring. Prayed for her tears and the words I’m coming home to drop from her lips. I even sent the message in the middle of the night when I knew she’d be awake.
No call came.
No tears.
Just a reply text:
Ginny: I understand. I met someone here, too. A doctor. But I haven’t done anything. I was waiting.
Me: Waiting for what?
I was crushed, but relieved.
Ginny: For you to break first. I’m impressed it’s taken this long, D. Go, live your life, just do not neglect our daughter.
The hypocrisy choked me. Then again, she didn’t want to get pregnant and never loved me.
I shudder at what she would have done had I shrugged off my responsibility. I tried to make Ginny something she’s not.
Am I making the same mistake with Ana?
The only thing clear to me right now is I have to cancel that ‘date.’
Given the hour, I’ll still have to pay. But I’m not leaving Sophie alone after what happened. I also don’t feel right given these feelings for Ana storming through me.
God, she proved herself capable and trustworthy today. She had a chance at freedom. With my daughter’s phone, an Uber app, and the money loaded onto an e-wallet, Ana could have been hundreds of miles away by now.
“I’ll be in my office,” I say to Ana, and take my mug with me. “Oh, I defrosted some steaks for the grill tonight. Do you eat meat?”
“I sure do.” Her eyes land on my groin, still swollen from watching her gulp the tea, her throat working down the warm liquid.
Picturing her swallowing my hot cum is something I need to get out of my head immediately.
I grip my phone, struggling through this three-way call with a lawyer and Taryn.
“Just get those charges dropped, Lincoln,” I bite out. “Dig up dirt on the prosecutor. Anything. I’ll pay whatever you need.”
“Then what?” Taryn jumps in.
That’s the question, isn’t it? What do I do with Cormac?
I planned to bring him home to Seattle and get him into rehab. But now that I know what he’s capable of, I don’t want him anywhere near my daughter or Anastasia. I honestly worry he’ll kill Ana and dump her body into Puget Sound to hide what he did.
“I can make the prosecutor agree to court-mandated rehab.” Lincoln has a sweet gig, being paid a fortune for one trip to Vegas and five minutes in a courtroom. “There’s a place in Malibu and one in Phoenix that has security to keep remanded clients there.”
