Page 1 of Desperate Temptations (Immoral Starts)

ONE

ETHAN

I take a long drag of my cigarette, holding it longer than usual, till my lungs ache for me to let go. My eyes skim over the rows and rows of tombstones. The names on most of them have become barely visible because of being worn down and dirty. What a shitty place to bury someone.

“It’s disrespectful to smoke in front of the dead.”

I slowly turn to face my kind of niece. She’s fourteen and an annoying, know it all brat. “Yeah? They tell you that?”

Her nose scrunches like it’s a stupid question. “They can’t talk.”

My eyebrows raise. “Then why are you speaking for them?”

“I’m going to tell my dad you’re smoking.” She jilts her chin as if to be more threatening.

I smirk, leaning closer to her. “While you’re there, tell your dad he’s the biggest fucking twat I know.”

Her eyes grow wide, and then she turns around and runs inside.

I sigh, settling closer against the wall, and look back over the cemetery.

My mind is empty, my heart numb as I go through the motions of smoking the tobacco I can’t even taste.

It’s been the longest day and it’s not even noon.

I never knew a funeral that started at seven a.m. would be an all day event, but here I am.

Stuck with people I fucking hate, burying a woman I wished dead no less than a week ago.

“You know your monster-in-law is going to come give you an earful now.”

My lips curl into the first genuine smile as I face my best friend. “I doubt she will. She knows the only person who would hold me back now is six feet under.”

Trent shakes his head and reaches for a smoke himself, settling on the opposite wall of me. The balcony is small, only able to fit a single table and a couple of chairs. “I don’t know how you stayed married to that family so long.”

I tear my attention away and bring it back to the bleak stones, the small flicker of anger lighting up inside me.

Because the truth is I don’t know how I stayed married either.

How I’m nearly thirty and just realizing how deeply unhappy I am.

And like the deceptive bitch she’s always been, Lyndsey makes me a widower before I change it for myself.

Clearing my throat and pushing those thoughts away, I turn back to Trent. “How long you in town?”

“As long as you need me, buddy.”

I swallow the sneer that almost comes out. I’ve always hated when Trent says that word. Buddy. It almost seems like a private joke, a mockery of our friendship. He uses it solemnly, and now isn’t the time to get into that argument.

“I’m good. I don’t want to interfere with your life,” I say with a shrug.

Trent frowns, watching me with concerned, blue eyes. “Your wife just died. The same woman you’ve been with since we were seventeen.”

My fist clenches, hating the reminder of how long I wasted on this cunt. Blowing out a breath, I drop the butt on the ground and smash it into the dirty concrete. Trent looks at me with disapproval and pointedly glances at the trash can with an ashtray on the top.

“Where you staying?”

His eyebrows knit together. “The same hotel as always. You know Lyn?—”

I smirk and he shakes his head.

“Cancel your reservation and stay with me, yeah?” I tell him.

“You sure? It was always yours and Lyndsey’s house. I don’t want to disrespect her wishes.”

A laugh lurks in my throat; then I realize he might have more than one concern. “You traveling alone? Or am I gonna have an extra guest?”

“Nah, just me,” Trent answers, amused. He pushes his shaggy, brown hair away from his face.

“What happened to that one dude? Greg or something?”

He laughs louder, shaking his head, and his hair falls back into place. “Nah, he was just some fun.”

“Aren’t they always?” The joke lands flat as he winces, glancing away from me and scratching the back of his neck.

Trent shrugs, but I can see the sadness pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Guess so, right?”

I’m too over today and all this bullshit to correct my bad joke, so I push off the wall and nod toward the small pathway leading around the back. “Want to help me break out of this joint?”

His eyes widen, shocked I’m serious. “You want to leave her funeral?”

“Yeah, I do. They’re lucky I even came to begin with.”

“Jesus, Ethan. What happened?”

I shake my head. “I’ll explain later.”

My best friend stubs out his cigarette and gives me a small grin. “Then your chariot awaits.”

By the time we get him checked out of the hotel and his stuff set up in the guestroom, he’s ready to rest from his day of traveling so we order some pizza. I don’t fight him to stay, wanting to finally be alone and wallow in the thoughts I’ve been putting off all day. Or so I thought I wanted.

I stare at the papers scattered on my desk, all the glaring details of her betrayal forever memorialized. I don’t want to deal with it at all, perhaps ever. Burn it all and forget the past decade of my life.

Grabbing the bottle, I walk out of my office and to the backyard. It’s only a few more steps to her prized possessions. I swallow down another bitter swig of the whiskey before setting it down next to me and unbuttoning my pants.

I pull out my cock, aim for the roses, and start pissing.

A sigh escapes me as my shoulders relax, and I tilt my head back to stare at the sky.

These fucking roses.

I’ve always hated them, but I hate them even more now that she’s dead.

Making me and him both widowers.

Fuck her and fuck these roses. And fuck her for leaving me in this mess.

Shaking the last few drops off my cock, I drop my chin to stare at the bushes with the blooming flowers.

My fingers curl around my shaft, stroking myself as I let my thoughts wander.

If I had hired that PI a year ago, maybe my life would look completely different. I would have been free from this miserable sham of a marriage ages ago, free from the obligations that come with it.

Free from the guilt every time I looked at another and wondered what it would it be like to fuck them instead of the frigid bitch in my bed.

My cock hardens in my hand as my eyes shut, picturing my blonde receptionist and her perfect round ass in those skirts.

Lyndsey hated her, convinced we were fucking, but I guess that was her projecting her own infidelity onto us.

I’m gonna bend her over Lyndsey’s desk and fuck her for the hell of it when I return to the office.

I turn to the left when I hear a sharp inhale and squint at my best friend.

My hand doesn’t let up. Too horny and petty to care.

“You’re welcome to join me. I know you’ve always hated Lyndsey,” I tell him with a hollow laugh.

“And what exactly are you doing with your cock out at midnight?”

I shrug. “Pissing on her roses. Probably gonna come on them too. She always hated the taste of my cum.”

He hums, the moonlight glinting off his tongue piercing as it sweeps across his bottom lip before he moves closer to me. “She hated a lot of things, including me.”

Nodding, I turn back to the bushes. “You should piss and come on them too.”

Trent laughs. “We're just gonna stand here with our cocks out?”

“I don’t think it would be your first time,” I tease, stroking up my shaft as I close my eyes again. Then I grin at the faint sound of a zipper.

I turn my head to face him as my best friend shakes his head.

“I can’t believe I’m succumbing to such childishness,” Trent mutters under his breath.

A glint under the moonlight near his hands has my eyebrows scrunching, but it’s gone just as fast and I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it.

It could have been the zipper, but I wouldn’t put it past him to pierce himself.

We’d talked about it when we were teens, but I never followed through with it.

Now I can’t stop thinking about whether his dick is pierced or not, or what it would look like.

My cock hardens in my fist, and I focus on the task I’m trying to finish. My lips smirk at the pun because I do intend to finish, all over these stupid fucking flowers.

“Do you ever wonder how life could have turned out if I had dated someone else?” I wonder aloud.

“Do you remember Heather Lonan from high school?” Trent asks before spitting on his palm and then gripping his dick. My eyes follow the motion before I rip my attention away and frown in confusion.

“Yeah, kind of. She was a cheerleader with Lynds?” I ask.

He grunts. “Yeah. She’s the one I lost my virginity to, but she had a thing for threesomes. It had to be with another man, and she loved to watch us go at it.”

I press my lips into a thin line.

Trent laughs, a little hollowness to it. “God, she begged me to get you to agree. Lynds heard she was trying to get you in bed. She asked you to that burger place the next day.”

My heart skips a beat. The burger place had been our first date, a place that became our spot. “Would you have asked me to join you with Heather?”

When he doesn’t answer right away, I look over at him. His forehead is scrunched as he stares down at his cock, stroking it furiously before his head tilts up to meet my gaze and he swallows. “Yeah, Ethan. I would have.”

I nod, licking my drying lips. “I probably would have joined. After all, I was sixteen and horny.”

Something flickers in his eyes, but I can’t place it. “Even if she wanted us to kiss? Wanted to watch me suck and stroke you like this?”

Fire gathers in my spine and blood pumps faster through my cock. “Yeah,” I say breathlessly because the thought isn’t one that turns me off, and honestly, I probably would have gone through with it.

Trent grunts, hissing through his teeth as he shakes his fist a few more strokes and his cum splatters over the roses.

I follow him in the next moment, feeling no satisfaction from the release before tucking myself away.

Leaning to the side, I pick up my bottle of whiskey and take a large swig.

My eyes stray to my best friend before I turn and head back to my house without another word.