Page 12 of Faster

The doorknob turned, and she regretted leaving it open. She couldn’t deal with this now. None of this was fair or easy, and she’d gotten used to her life being both. But it was only a few months of difficulty, and then she’d be free.

She’d barely spoken to her husband. Their conversations had been brief and limited to logistics.

Their agreement was that they’d stay married until the summer break, but that didn’t require that they have much interaction at all.

She turned her head to watch her husband walk into her room, still struck by how beautiful he was, even though she kind of hated him.

People called him a “fallen angel” on social media all the time with his dimpled cheeks, square jaw, and soulful eyes.

And he was always smiling, as though he had the best secrets in the world.

Before they’d let what they had die by getting married, he’d always had the best secrets for her—little gifts she didn’t know she needed, romantic dates in between races, sometimes just the touch of his hand against the small of her back in a room he knew she wasn’t comfortable in.

In that instant—remembering who they were before—she loved her husband. She missed him. She wondered what might have happened if she’d decided to stay that night and fight with him instead of waging a secret war by sleeping with his best friend.

“We have to talk,” he said.

That was something they hadn’t done much of lately.

They hadn’t much of a marriage for the past couple of years.

It was like they’d become different people when they’d taken their vows.

He didn’t appreciate her in the same way anymore.

Whenever he’d said he loved her, it was laced with duty rather than passion.

She felt like a useful ornament rather than a trusted partner.

Maybe that’s just what marriage was—two people tied together, seeing how far they could push each other away before the ties broke.

Cece didn’t sit up. It was like her body wouldn’t let her move.

She wasn’t afraid of her husband, but that didn’t mean that her fight, flight, or freeze reflex didn’t kick on in that moment.

She was afraid of what would happen to her.

She was afraid that Luca had told him what happened, and that he would never forgive her.

Even though it didn’t matter, even though their marriage was over, she didn’t want him to know exactly how she’d done her part in killing it.

“I know.” She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t do it. Not until he sat next to her. He didn’t try to touch her.

“People are going to notice that you’re acting like a bitch if you don’t at least pretend to be in love with me.

” Of course, they didn’t need to talk about the fact that he’d cheated on her, regardless of the fact that he’d been cross-faded on New Year’s Eve.

They had to talk about how her behavior while playing the role of his wife was inadequate.

Part of her wondered whether he’d let her catch him cheating—and then played dumb—just to get her to pull the trigger and leave him.

It was almost a relief that she finally had a tangible reason to get angry at him.

He might not have intended to drive her into Bendetto’s bed, but he may have underestimated her need for catharsis.

The morning after, he might have made all the right sounds about how he needed her to stay with him until summer break but been desperate to get out of their marriage.

This way, they could just put on a show for a few more months without ever needing to address the problems in their marriage.

They could make a statement about growing apart and wishing each other the best, and she could disappear.

“When have I ever not acted like a perfect, loving wife to you?” That he knew of.

He sighed and looked at the ceiling. His hands flexed on the silk comforter. “Well, when you told that fan who said she was ‘in love with Ethan’ that she ‘could have him if she wanted,’ it sure seemed like you meant it.”

Someone had caught that on video? “That was a joke.” She’d been totally serious, but she’d kept her tone light. Hadn’t she?

“She made a video on social media and now ‘hashtag trouble in paradise’ is trending with ‘hashtag Ethan and Cece.’”

“I’m sorry.” She might not like her husband very much, but this wasn’t about her feelings anymore. This was about her future. If she didn’t want to go back to modeling or move into her childhood bedroom, she needed to keep her game face on.

“Just try a little bit harder to pretend like you don’t hate me.

” He looked at her and gave her the panty-melting half smile that she wouldn’t have been able to resist even a few months ago.

“Maybe I should fuck you until you’re walking funny.

You always remember why you’re in love with me after you’ve come a few times. ”

She sat up then and scooted away from him until she faced him. Fuck him and his pretty face. “Maybe it’ll just make me remember seeing some other woman bouncing on your dick in my bed.”

“Watch your mouth, Cecelia.” Sometimes, he had the worst habit of expecting her to act like a lady.

If he’d wanted that, he should have listened to his mother.

Ethan’s mother had made it clear she wasn’t suitable.

Cece had been surprised that she’d said it over breakfast at the drafty, old estate their family had occupied in the English countryside for centuries.

But she’d quickly learned that posh British people just said whatever the fuck they wanted.

But the old bat had been right. Cece didn’t have the patience and fortitude to take a man like Ethan in hand. She was too impulsive and prone to temper. At the time, Cece had bristled at the woman stereotyping her because of the color of her skin and the fact that she was American.

Maybe it was time that Ethan knew exactly who he’d married.

She leaned back on her hands and cocked her head to the side before saying, “Does it bother you that, after this is all over, every time you’re inside a bitch, you’re going to have to wonder if she’s there because of you or if she wishes she was me? ”

He bared his teeth at her, and something like a growl came out of his mouth. Before she knew what he was going to do, she was on her back, he was on top of her, and he had his hand cupping her throat. He didn’t squeeze.

She wasn’t afraid—she was desperately turned on.

She was truly sick.

They were sick together, and she was coming to believe that they never should have met. Something went very wrong somewhere to set off that series of events.

“I did fine before I met you. I’m one of the finest race car drivers in the world.” He leaned down and ran his nose against her cheek. Then, he bit her earlobe. “I will do fine after you leave me.”

“It doesn’t count as leaving you when I found you fucking another woman in my bed.” She pushed against his shoulders, but he didn’t budge. Part of her didn’t want him to. She wanted him to fight for her, even though she didn’t deserve it. “ You left me that night.”

“I was fucked up, and I made a mistake.” His grip on her softened. “You should forgive me.”

“Why?” She didn’t know why she asked. Maybe she wanted him to explain himself. Maybe she wanted to have a fight and put everything on the table.

But, knowing Ethan, neither of those things was going to happen. He was so buttoned up, so controlled, that he would give a logical explanation for all of the reasons why forgiving him would be advantageous for both of them.

“Why do you think?” He pushed his hips in between her thighs so she could feel him against her. “Because I want to fuck my wife again.”

She tried to push him off her again, and this time she really meant it. It didn’t matter that the smell of him and the feeling of him on top of her had her wet and achy. He didn’t have to know that. She wanted him to leave her alone. “Have you been tested?”

She had. Didn’t matter that she’d trusted Luca. She couldn’t trust Ethan.

“You know I have.” He did have to get a physical before the season started, but she didn’t know they tested for STIs.

Cece bared her teeth at him this time. “I’m not forgiving you.”

He had the audacity to laugh at her. And then he rubbed his cock against her center. “There hasn’t been anybody since ...”

“Why should I believe you? You’ll say anything, do anything to get what you want. You’re an absolute terrorist on the grid, but you promised never to play dirty with me. You lied.”

“And I apologized.” He thought that was enough. He seriously thought that was enough. He’d been around enough shitty, bloodless marriages growing up that he thought it was okay.

“You promised me that you wouldn’t act like your father.” When they’d met, Ethan’s worst fear had been becoming his father. But now, he was a manipulative, cheating asshole, just like the generations of his forebearers.

She really didn’t have a leg to stand on. She had it on authority that his mother had her share of extramarital shenanigans motivated by revenge in her day. Perhaps she’d been wrong, and Cece was perfectly suited to their family.

“My father hasn’t tried to fuck my mother since I was conceived.

He wouldn’t let her out of their marriage, no matter what she promised him.

He doesn’t want her, and he won’t let her go.

” He squeezed her throat a little, not enough to cut off her air.

Just enough to establish his power. “I want you—quite desperately—and I’ve promised to let you go. Tell me again how I’m just like him.”

He pulled up the bottom of her dress and pushed his fingers into her panties.

He smiled when he felt how wet she was. She pushed into his fingers, unable to help herself.

He rubbed her clit with one of his calloused fingertips, and she gasped.

“You want me, and I know exactly how to get the best performance out of you.”

His touch became harder and more insistent, and she squeezed her eyes closed against the avalanche of pleasure she was about to be buried in. But then he stopped.

She growled from frustration. And then she nipped at his stubble-covered chin with her teeth.

“Eyes on me, Cecelia.” She opened her eyes to find him grinning down at her. “You need to think about how hard I make you come the next time someone asks you about your husband.”

He speared her with two fingers and rubbed her clit with his thumb. She didn’t know whether she was trying to get closer or get away from him. Her mind and the rest of her body wanted to tear itself in half. She should run from this kind of pleasure.

Her body won out, and she undid the fly on his pants, and pulled his cock out. She pulled on it how he liked it when he touched himself until he stopped her and pulled his fingers away. “If I can’t fuck my wife, I want to fuck myself with you on me.”

She hesitated as she watched him masturbate with her wetness. “Need you to come.” Sure, he was buttoned up, but he was also filthy. She’d been so angry at him that she’d forgotten how much he turned her on. “Touch yourself.”

She couldn’t decide whether to look at his face or his hand on his cock.

And she couldn’t focus on the way her core tightened with every stroke of her fingers or his hot breath against her face.

He looked agonized. He stroked himself angrily.

And that turned her on. She’d been so close but seeing him like this pushed her over in no time.

“Ethan!” She didn’t mean to call out his name.

That was too intimate, but they were way too intertwined for this not to be.

And then he came all over her, his come splashed all over her panties, sticky and hot.

He fell to his back at her side, and they both stared at the ceiling. Neither of them moved for long moments. Only their deep breaths and the whir of the air conditioner filled the room.

He had to go. She would fall into him and forgive him if he stayed. She was weak and lustful and greedy. She had to get used to not having this.

But he beat her to the punch. He looked over at her, and she met his gaze. “Are you going to behave?”

If this was her punishment? “Probably not.”