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252 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 4, 2022
Except today, today I am actually really alone. Everyone has forgotten my birthday. Not that I reminded them. I wouldn’t. It’s not my style.
Dripping in diamonds, I know why I have them. They’re just to assuage his guilt. No other reason at all.
But he’s also a cheater. A liar. And probably a million other things that he hides from me.
Even if they fuck around with whores, they go home.
I look down at my phone and grin at the picture that is my lock screen and background. It’s Kia. She’s smiling, no makeup, hair messy, just plain fucking pretty. Standing, I shove my phone in my pocket, then head to the clubhouse. I have to get this contract to Prez to look over. Closing down my office, I look around, feeling as if I’m forgetting something.
I’m four beers in when a woman slides up to me. I don’t recognize her, but she’s hot as shit. Like most of the women here. “Hey,” I murmur.
“I’m Delight,” she breathes. I hum, my lips twitching into a small smile. “I bet you are, babe.”
I needed after a hard day at the office. I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m forgetting something, but as my cock is being sucked, I push everything out of my mind.
But he smiles and it reaches his eyes. I don’t know that I’ve had a man smile at me—and it reaches his eyes—in years. It’s hot just like he is.
“He’s probably fucking someone else. It’s my birthday, he forgot or doesn’t care, and I wanted to go out for the night.”
She’s going to be pissed that I didn’t come home last night, no call, nothing.
I can’t help but watch as she does. I was between those thighs last night, and early this morning, but I’m not one to turn down any part of a woman—ever. Which, since I’m married, makes me a bastard, I know.
This is cheating. Granted, it’s nothing compared to what Handles does on a daily basis, but it’s more than I’ve ever done.
Which means he never made it home last night and he probably won’t be home today either.
He never remembered my birthday, doesn’t care where I am. Just plain doesn’t give a shit.
I fucking forgot my wife’s birthday. I was balls deep inside another woman twice, three times actually, but forgot my own woman’s birthday.
“I didn’t go out to dinner last night with Handles. He never came home,” I say.
Contrary to what a lot of people in the club think, I love my wife very much. I don’t want to see her hurting.
“I’m not even surprised, Handles,” she says. “I know what your priorities are, and they aren’t me.”
I’m done. The complete lack of respect and remorse is the final nail in this relationship coffin.
Nothing about him is stable. He doesn’t call, doesn’t tell me where he is or when he’ll be home. He doesn’t even come home half of the time. He pays the bills, so financially, he’s stable. Nothing else about him is though.
This will probably be my last ride. I’ll miss it, not that I’ve ridden on his bike much lately. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time that I did.
“They don’t matter. You are my wife. You have my name. You sleep in my bed. You are what matters and I’m not letting you go, Jet.”
you told me you missed her birthday because you were balls deep in new cunt at the clubhouse… multiple times.
“Maybe she’s finally just tired of it all, Handles. She sees what the other girls have, all of them, and maybe she wants that. Must be hard to love someone knowing they can’t love you enough to stop fucking random people.”
“Can’t give that to her.” “Then you don’t love her enough.”
I could scrape her off, give her what she says she wants and be done. Spend my time fucking whores and partying when I’m not working. I wouldn’t have anyone to answer to… ever.
Bitter Disappointment should be my middle name by now.
I decide to work instead, she wants to be on her own, she can take care of her fucking self then.
“Handles spent Monday night through last night at the clubhouse, with the new clubwhore,”
“The same one from your birthday,” Ivory adds on a whisper.
I’ve left him and he chooses her.
Betrayal is such an ugly feeling. But it’s an ugly feeling that has consumed me for years and years.
Then the girls walk out on stage. They’re fucking gorgeous. Dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin. They’re fucking stunning. Then there are their bodies. God fucking damn.
“Have fun, lawyer.” He stands and leaves. The girl straddles my lap and I suddenly forget all about war, about a broken marriage, about everything. I’m an asshole, a selfish one.
“You’re not willing to give up cheap cunt for your wife?” “Why should I?”
“Just food for thought, brother. Her not wanting to be second fiddle to your whores is not a big ask. She’s your wife, your old lady.”
“I’m married,” I whisper. “Kia,” he says. “You’re married to a man who sleeps with other women, who forgot your birthday to sleep with said other women. You left him.”
I smoked and drank more last night than I have in years… oh and fucked. It was a great fucking night.
Closing my eyes, an image of Delight pops into my head. I don’t know why, but I think of her in particular. I shouldn’t be thinking about her at all, she’s insignificant.
At the same time, I’m not sure if I’m ready to keep her either. She’s asking a helluva lot of me.
I think about telling him that there’s someone else on my radar, but I know without a doubt that he would have an opinion on that.
Now, if I didn’t have to choose… I would want them both. Without a doubt, both of them completely naked. I’m still not convinced that Delight just happened in my life, that she isn’t meant for something.
He’s been sleeping with—for days and days—the same damn woman. He has developed a relationship with her.
The only time he eats carbs like that is when he’s had a long night of partying. I shouldn’t care, it shouldn’t bother me at all, but anger blooms inside of me.
“You don’t give a shit about me. My head is not fucked up because I want my husband to want me. Because I want his attention. Because I want him not to sleep with other women.”
“Everything,” I scream. “I want someone to love me. I want fidelity. I want trust. I want love. I want a fucking family.”
I don’t think that I can give up easy pussy for anyone.
I told Kia that she could have the house, but now I’m rethinking that. Fuck me, I need to make a goddamn decision.
Somewhere along the way, the free pussy became more important than the wife you had at home, her needs, her wants, her desires. You guys talk about the future, about kids, about anything at all?”
Delight is standing a few feet away, her eyes focused on me and nowhere else, boldly, I might fucking add. “You gotta handle that shit, brother.”
It’s not that Delight was or is special in any way, she’s not. She made herself desirable to me, paying special attention to me. I fell for that shit completely.
Handles didn’t want anything past having me here waiting for him, ready and willing. He never wanted children, at least not with me.
I can’t make you any promises.
“It’s clear that I’m asking too much of you, Legend. I understand that this isn’t the life that we’ve had. You did not agree to monogamy. But I need that. I’ve got zero anger toward you anymore, just acceptance.”
When I feel her hand grab ahold of my cock, I realize that I’m starting to get hard. Fuck. It’s hot that she’s crazy. I like crazy, but I do not need this shit, not now, not ever. Especially not when I just made a huge fucking deal about shutting Kia down with her questions about fidelity.
Delight strokes me, once, twice, three times and I almost break, but I don’t. Shifting my hips backward, I extend my arm straight and force her body away from mine.
What I see causes me to suck in a breath. Legend’s naked ass is facing me, but there is a woman in front of him with a smile on her face. He’s got one hand forward against her stomach and the other is wrapped around her throat.
Delight. Well, at least I know exactly where she’s from. The clubhouse. Some clubwhore just broke into my house, some woman that I know, just by the look on her face, that she fucked my husband.
“The way he fucked me for days on days, morning and night, I just assumed you were some ugly, fat housewife.”
She knows my husband, and although there are probably dozens of women that do, it feels different with her. I know that he spent my birthday with her, and the next day, that he went back after I left and spent days and nights with her. It’s just too personal
“But you like her, or you at least liked her,” I say.
“I did,” he admits.
“I knew that you did. I guess I just needed confirmation,” I say in a whisper.
I fucked my husband right there in front of her corpse.