Page 132 of Ruptured

Today he’d gone to the jeweler where Prez and the rest of them were having all the special made pieces with the colored diamonds. He’d plunked down a fucking quarter rock for earrings and had them delivered to her office while he’d watched from across the street.

Bailey hadn’t even sent a fuck you.

Symphony skimmed her fingers along his jaw, and a shiver went through him. She leaned in, her tits almost in his face, her coconut scent swirling between them. “My pussy is so wet for you, Mort,” she whispered, her look both seductive and vulnerable. “I want you. I’ll make you feel so good.”

His cock jumped and his breath hitched.

Fuck! Bailey’s jealousy over Symphony wasn’t misguided.

Symphony’s nipples beaded against her crop top and the smooth toffee skin of her belly tempted him.

He swallowed, so close to breaking he could almost feel Symphony writhing under him. But he was still married, and a broken heart didn’t warrant such betrayal and disrespect. He gave Symphony a half-smile. “I love Bailey.”

“Does she love you?” Symphony returned. “No woman in her right mind would treat you the way she did the last time you two were in here together. What I saw was an abomination.”

Shaking his head, he laughed, still not leaning away or moving her hand from his jaw. “You were spying on a private conversation?”

“Yeah,” she said without remorse, finally dropping her hand. “I had to know if she deserves you. Sometimes, when she came in with her friends or her mom, I’d hear her talk about what you did for her. Where you took her. I want that too. I want a man to spoil me.”

“You can’t take another woman man,” he said quietly.

“If that woman doesn’t deserve him, I can,” she retorted.

He heaved a breath and met her gaze. “You so fucking young, girl.Tooyoung for an old motherfucker like me. If you want a roughneck, I-I can introduce you to some of the younger members.”

Bishop immediately came to mind. The kid had a head on his shoulders, nerves of steel and a crack ass aim. Once he started working for Meggie, he’d earn life-changing money if he took cues from Mort, instead of Digger. Bishop’s one fucking fault was his lack of financial foresight. The moment he earned money for a job Mort facilitated for him, the motherfucker spent it. A fucking baby Digger, without all the goddamn eating.

“A roughneck?” Symphony asked suspiciously. “Are they like you?” Her look sly, she slid a finger down his jaw. “I can still fuck you, Mort. I promise no one will ever know. I’m so wet for you right now,” she repeated unnecessarily.

He’d heard her quite clearly the first time.

He’d never been as close to betraying Bailey. His marriage was broken, and he was beginning to doubt it would ever be repaired. But he loved his wife. Until and unless they divorced, he couldn’t make excuses to justify bad behavior.

Mort heaved in another breath, Roscoe hard and heavy, his nuts throbbing. “I know you don’t want only dick, but money too—” It was one reason why Torie had wanted Prez so much.

She stiffened and stepped back. “I’m not a gold digger. I’m offering to fuck you free of charge.”

“Did no fucking body teach you the value of your pussy?” he snapped.

A hurt look crossed her face and he sighed, realizing too late how the words sounded. “Symphony,” he said, gentling his tone. “You not selling your body. I understand that. And from your reaction, you don’t think too highly of chicks that do.”

“They’re whores,” she said tightly. “Most are also dirty thieves and drug users.”

The anger in her tone told Mort she spoke from personal experience, so he bit back his annoyance and didn’t deviate from the conversation.

“So you willing to spread your pussy for me withnoexpectations? No requirements? Not a promise to call you. Not dinner. Not money to pay a fucking bill. Nothing?”

“Not everything’s about money,” she whispered.

“Just most things.”

“I’m not a whore.”

“Fucking a married motherfucker, over twice your goddamn age, forfreeis motherfucking worse, Symphony. What the fuck do you get but your pussy off and a thank you? Most married mennot leaving their wives.”

“They might if I…” She swallowed and wrung her hands together. “You might if I treat you right and love you the way you deserve. I’ll fuck you whenever you want. Except during my period. I’ll suck you though. I’ll cook and clean and do whatever you want me to. I can give you more babies, too.”

“I don’t want more kids if Bailey not their momma.”