Page 2

I forced a small smile. "It’s already nine. Can’t it wait?"

He sighed, like I was exhausting him. "I told you, Zane. This deal is important."

I nodded, tucking my lips between my teeth. "I know, baby. I just…" My stomach tightened, but I pushed forward. "I thought maybe tonight we could—"

"Not tonight."

I let out a breath. "Not even for a little while?" I ran my hands down my thighs, making sure my voice stayed soft, tempting. "I need you to fuck me."

He finally turned then, his gaze dragging over my body. For a brief second, I thought I saw something in his eyes. Something. But just as fast as it appeared, it was gone.

"Is this a ploy to get pregnant?" he asked. His face going red which meant he was getting angry.

Who got angry because their wife wanted to fuck them?

My face burned. "I want a baby, yes. But I want you too. We haven’t even… not in weeks." My voice cracked, and I hated that he could hear it. "You can pull out. You don’t even have to cum in me." I was on the verge of begging. I was so tired of touching myself.

Mark rubbed his temple, another sigh escaping him. "I don’t have time for this, Zane."

He didn’t have time to fuck his wife? To say I was frustrated was an understatement. I wanted to scream. The muscle in my stomach tightened, making it harder to breathe right.

I swallowed hard. "Okay. No sex. What about letting me get a job? You said you would think about it. I’m bored here all day. I feel useless."

He scoffed. "I told you, there’s no need. You don’t have to work. Everything you need, I provide."

"But what if I want to work?"

He was already shaking his head. "We’ll talk about it later."

Later. Always later.

Mark grabbed his keys and wallet from the dresser and strode toward the door. He didn’t kiss me goodbye. He didn’t even look back.

The moment the front door clicked shut, the tears I had been holding back finally fell.

I sat there for a long time, staring at the door, tears running down my face waiting for my breathing to steady. I knew better than to cry, but I couldn’t help it.

Wiping my face, I reached for my phone. I scrolled through my music, searching for something sad. Something to match the hollow feeling spreading through my chest. I settled on Kill Bill by SZA instead of something softer.

Sliding under the covers, I pulled the blanket up to my chin. The silk lingerie against my skin felt ridiculous now, like I had dressed up for nothing.

I was said, but wouldn’t cry myself to sleep, though.

Not tonight.

Chapter 2- Sam

$4,367.52.

For a handbag. And shoes. I was pissed.

I ran a contracting business. I owned a couple of properties I renovated and sold. I worked my ass off, breaking my back, and my wife or—my soon-to-be-ex-wife if she kept this up—had dropped more money on shoes and a handbag, in one afternoon than most people paid in rent.

She knew what I was trying to build. But she didn’t care.

I didn’t even hear her walk into the kitchen. I smelled her expensive perfume first.

"Janet," I said, holding the receipt up between two fingers and turning away from the island. "You wanna tell me what the hell this is?"