The wedding. It sounds so strange coming from my lips like a matter-of-fact statement. Our wedding. To a girl I barely know or care about.
It’s weird.
“Thanks, Tony. That’s—that’s really sweet of you.”
A chuckle escapes my mouth. Sweet? I’ve never heard a girl call me that in my life, ever, but she seems to really mean it. The expression on her face makes me uncomfortable. She looks at me as though I’m her goddamn savior, even though I’m only doing this for money. Part of me wants to set her straight, but I don’t want to see her upset.
She gets up from her chair and walks to me, looking at me with a wide smile that makes me feel light. Then she straddles my legs and her fingers slowly rake through my hair. I touch her small waist and I think of all the women I’ve fucked in the past few years—how none of them even come close to her. She gets my dick hard whenever she feels like it, and the smug broad knows it. It worried me in the beginning that she was only fucking me to placate me, but after a week of nonstop fucking I know better.
She needs my cock just as much as I need her pussy.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, when I’m barely awake, I’ll feel her hand on my cock. Then I’ll fuck the shit out of her at some ungodly hour, and then when I wake up in the morning I’ll fuck her again. And then she’ll want more when I get back home. Fuck, it’s heaven for my overactive cock, but I am tired as hell all the time.
“I missed you.”
Elena’s sigh washes over my ears as she sits down on my lap, straddling my waist. I groan as she reaches down and grabs my hardness, and then she kisses me, and I fight the urge to shove my tongue down her throat.
“Elena, we’re going to visit my ma tomorrow.” I swallow hard. “To tell her everything.”
My palms sweat just thinking about it.
“Okay,” she says, twirling a finger in my hair. “What’s she like?”
“Old-fashioned, I guess. She’ll be very happy to meet you.”
Her brilliant smile falters somewhat, and my chest tightens a little. I know that she’s not really mine, that this is all for show, but I can’t help but feel a little annoyed. She should be fucking grateful for this.
“I’m just—I wonder what’s happening with my mom right now. I didn’t leave her with anything.”
So that’s what’s bothering her.
Then her hand freezes in my hair and she stands up from my lap, looking embarrassed.
“Sorry, I know that you’re not here to listen to my problems.”
“You barely talk to me at all, hon.” I stand up and my hip bumps into her waist, and she grabs a strand of her hair and tugs it. “When I come home, the first thing you do is jump on my cock. Don’t look at me like that—I’m not complaining.”
“I just don’t know how to act around you. I don’t know what you expect from me.”
“I don’t expect anything, doll. You’re the one paying me—”
“—But I’m in your house, using your things, invading your privacy—”
My laugh cuts her off. “You’re paying me fifty grand for a few months’ rent. I shouldn’t let you use my things?” My hand snakes around her neck. “Maybe you’re right. I should make you walk naked around the house.”
Her watery eyes shine in the overhead lights and the laughter dies in my throat. All of a sudden, she shakes in my arms and tears stream down her face.
Jesus.
“What did I say?”
She shakes her head, trying to turn out of my grasp. “Nothing.”
A small yelp leaves her throat as I curl my hand around her forearm and yank her into my chest. Fear flashes through her tears and I let go of her arm as though it burned me.
“Don’t walk away from me, Elena.”
“I’m just overwhelmed. Rafael keeps contacting me and I’m getting married and we’re building up all these lies that we can’t possibly keep straight.”
“First of all, give me that phone right now.”
She grudgingly reaches inside the pocket of her jeans and hands me her cell phone. I turn it on and briefly scroll through the wall of angry text messages.
When I find you I’ll RIP YOUR FUCKING FACE OFF
Ur not gonna last five fucking minutes the moment I find you
I dont think you realize how much STRESS you’re causing me. After everything I’ve fuckin done for you, you two-timing slut I will—
My fingers are so tight around the phone that I’m sure the glass is about to break.
“He sounds like a stand-up guy.”
She smiles weakly.
Then I hurl the phone to the floor as hard as I can, shattering the glass. Ignoring her screams of protest, I dig my boot into the plastic and stomp hard until it’s nothing but bits and pieces.