𝐎 𝐁 𝐉 𝐄 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 (18+)

8

The Sex Only Gets Worse After You're Married.

♡♡♡

I was more than worried after returning home from the lake. My stomach was in knots, sweat beading at my forehead, ears hot and no doubt a ripe shade of red. This was the second time I regretted speaking to Leila with so much fire but to soothe my guilty conscience I convinced myself that she was the only one that held a match.

I knew full well that life would be easier if we pretended like we didn't know each other. That the memories we shared were nothing more than fleeting dreams—the mind using one of the ten thousand faces I'd encountered in my life to form a morsel so perfect dreams were the only place she made sense.

I understood. It was logical but still, I hated it. I may not have been able to make room for her on the fifth floor of my New York penthouse with my fiancé but I had room for her in my heart. A heart that had been squeezing Charlotte out since I laid my eyes on the estranged Leila Wright.

When I got down on one knee and proposed to Charlotte I promised to cherish her, worship her, and love her for as long as time would allow. The door littered with bolts and locks that kept thoughts of Leila at bay was closed. There was no longer a rumbling in my chest —no I felt content. I felt like my heart had to break to bring me to Charlotte and for a time that was true.

I was happy. Sure I would much rather be shooting galleries for National Geographic but running a business had its charms too. I could get used to the corporate life. A wife that hardly wanted anything to do with me. A few kids that would spend more time with a nanny than they would their parents. It was a life. Maybe not a good life but alas it was one I was willing to live.

I was happy.

So happy that as soon as I saw Charlotte I took her in my arms and showered her with sweet and affectionate kisses. She was caught off guard and playfully tried to push me away but I only held her tighter. "I missed you," I hummed as I breathed in the strawberry scent of her hair. I did miss her. Missed the way her skin felt in the palm of my hands, the way her hair wrapped perfectly around my wrist. The way her voice sounded smooth and silky while I filled her with ecstasy.

It was at that moment I was sure I loved my fiancé. That whatever it was I was feeling for Leila at the lake was just an illness. The symptoms of being reunited with a ghost but I was okay. My ailment was cured and right now the only thing I wanted to do was make the woman standing in front of me forget the reasons I even left her in the first place.

"Issac, we don't have time for this I have to be at Blanco in two hours."

I tried not to be discouraged but Charlotte always had to go somewhere. If she wasn't taking private phone calls she was out all night with the girls or stuck in the office taking meetings all day. I didn't mind her being busy with work; I was far from the type to want a Stepford wife but I always made time for her. Whenever she called I came running which was why going to Georgia without her was such a big deal.

"Blanco can wait, I've been deprived of you for far too long." I kissed her again but pulled back in case she really wasn't just teasing me. Our sex life used to be wild. Tattered clothes going from the kitchen to the bedroom wild but as we grew closer and our relationship grew jagged the sex became more of an 'I'm free Tuesday at 9:30 kind of deal.'

I never pressured her, never made her feel like she had to have sex with me but I did have needs. Needs I'd have to tend to myself in the shower with only the sounds of the water hitting the tub floor masking my moans.