As I continue to stare into the pure animosity that is swimming in her eyes, it bothers me how my cock decides to swell even further the minute I encounter small flecks of gold around her irises.
Not wanting her to see the effect she’s had on my traitorous dick, I turn my back to her and walk, yet again, to the bar in the corner for another refill. When I raise my glass to my lips this time, my tense muscles instantly relax at finding myself alone in the room.
Fuck.
How long is this excruciating day going to last?
I just want it to be over and done with already.
One thing I’ve taken out of today is that if I was a smart man, I would do everything in my power to limit our time together. Go back to my original plan to set my bride up in a swanky apartment or house fit for her stature and just forget her very existence.
That’s what my logical mind is screaming for me to do.
But there are other parts of me that aren’t so easily convinced.
My cock being one of them.
Not that I have ever let him make my decisions for me in the past. I’ve never been one to romanticize my interactions with women. Up to this point, the only use I’ve had for any female has either been in counting the profits they made me professionally or the few hours I’ve spent balls deep inside them just to get the edge off after a hard day’s work. Fucking for me has always been about the release, not companionship. I’m usually out the door before they’ve even come down from the earth-shattering orgasm I’ve given them.
I don’t have to know the inner workings of my wife’s mind to know that Rosa is the kind of woman that yearns to be intellectually stimulated. She’s definitely not the kind that wants to be ass fucked from behind while she’s spread out on all fours on top of my bed.
My cock twitches in my pants, daring me to put that theory to the test.
Like that will ever fucking happen.
Still, I can’t deny that she intrigues me. Both physically and mentally.
The way she braved facing me head-on, head held high, not only irritates me, but it also brought forth this insistent need to break her bravado in any way I could. The sudden urge to see her cheeks turn pink in both shyness and embarrassment, and leave her breathlessly tongue-tied is too seductive for words.
Much like the way she looked when she was dancing with Shay earlier tonight.
I crack my neck to the side, releasing the tension there as I recall how she looked into my brother’s eyes with complete and utter trust embedded in them.
Not that I can fault her ingenuity on that front.
Shay has always had an uncanny knack when it came to dealing with the fairer sex. His silver tongue could coax a faithful married woman of twenty years into an orgy just as easily as it could soothe a little girl’s tears from shedding after falling off her bike. My brother could smooth talk a nun to her knees, have her deep throat him in a church confessional, and then have her thank God Almighty for the privilege. I should know since I’m the one who had to write a big fat check to Bishop O’Sullivan when Shay was caught fucking Sister Riley with her own crucifix when he was barely eighteen years old.
I’ll have to have a word with him in regards to Rosa.
He’ll see her as a challenge, even if he should only see her as a reminder of the pain her family has caused us.
Whenever we reminisce on the past, Athair sometimes likes to remind me that there was a point in my life that I used to be just as carefree and reckless as Shay is today.
Feels like a lifetime ago, though.
A life that no longer exists thanks to the Hernandezes.
I empty the remaining contents of my glass at the thought, letting the burn trail down my throat. I’ve drunk more than my fill tonight, yet all I got was a small buzz for my troubles. Not strong enough to dull the senses or the hectic thoughts ruminating around my head, unfortunately.
A quick glance at my Cartier watch tells me it’s close to midnight, and a good hour has passed since Rosa retreated to the bedroom. I need to wash the day off my skin and try to grab a few hours of sleep if I can. I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to get with Iris always on my mind, but I’ll be no use to anyone tomorrow if I don’t at least try.
Hopefully by now, Rosa is fast asleep in bed and won’t hear me going into the ensuite to grab a quick shower. I take off my suit jacket and throw it over an armchair before heading towards the bedroom. But to my chagrin, when I enter the room, the infuriating woman is still in her wedding dress staring at her reflection via a standing black framed mirror, as if she knows its only purpose is to torment me.