El’s statement unleashes a mountain of fury inside me as she had hoped it would. That tiny smirk when she shooed me confirmed her victory. And that lace. She’s wearing lace with a matching thong for a man that is not her husband. Even had the gall to wish me a happy birthday after chasing me with blue balls. I never want to hear those words again, even from the twins. There’s nothing happy about this birthday, about being unwanted by your wife. Or, watching regret flee into her eyes because she kissed you.
I shift in my seat while scouring the web for a profile of this T, the scrawny guy I gave little thoughts to. He is not her type. He is nothing like me and I am her type. Yes, he cares, maybe a little too much but no guy stays long in her life. With the twins’ help and my brilliant ideas, it is easy to frustrate them. If they are frustrated enough to leave then they don’t deserve to be in her life. Am I the deserving one? Yes.
A page comes up on T. He’s rich, so am I. Richer than anyone I know but wealth has never moved Elna. My fists clench, that little fucker better end this fling soon or I will. I will. I will do what? End them? Today proves she’s immune to my charms. Maybe not completely but knowing she can resist me a little pisses me off. It was in that same mood I entered my office, the same mood I’m using to find info on this guy.
Stealing a candy from the bowl on my table, I ease into my seat and close my eyes. I never take these candies, I have them because the kids show up here sometimes but I can do with a bit of sugar rush. To tone down the disappointment and images of her face. Does she really regret the kiss or was it a facade?
My lips still tingle from the heated kiss but I manage to smile through the memory. She will remember it for days if T doesn’t kiss away that memory. I sit up. Do they kiss? How far does she go with these men?
A few lingering touches is not okay but I can manage that. She made it clear I have no say in her life. I disagree with that. I have more than a right, make those twin rights, courtesy of our beautiful girls. I am her husband. Make that, ex, better still, estranged horny husband. But it doesn’t change the facts. As long as we share the girls, I will always have a permanent place in her life. Too bad my opinions only matter when they are involved. Our arrangement works but I miss going home to her to cuddle, to be loved.
At this reminder, irritation rips through my skin. So many promises she couldn’t keep.
On a sigh, I close the tab and bring up a new screen. Googling that T dude will do me no good but I can’t help it. Elna might flirt all she wants but deep down, we know she can’t stomach the sight of another man’s naked body. Uncertainty churns my gut, I hit the keyboards with more gusto. If I am convinced she hasn’t fucked another guy since our separation, why am I bringing up the surveillance at the main gate?
Because until two days back she had never touched herself while on the phone with a man. The selfies are new too. It might be for Clarissa, they still keep in touch but that assumption rings false in my ears. I will never send dick pictures to my male friends, not like I have any. My pulse quickens when an electric car stops in front of our gate. Elna doesn’t wait for the guy to step out before wrenching his door open.
The scene that plays before me has a lump lodging in my throat. It restricts my air flow and I wheeze as her lips collide with T’s. What is going on? He appears as stunned as I am but gets over it immediately. Dragging her to his laps, he mauls her lips, face, everywhere his mouth can access in their kissing frenzy and my dick completely deflates when they pull back briefly for him to fondle with her breasts. Christ.
She’s not wearing a bra. I know that for a fucking fact because our lips were locked less than an hour ago and now she has it on another man? Is she moaning his name like she did mine? It’s hard to get a view of their faces but the muffled sound coming from the car does painful, wicked things to my shattered heart.
My wife is kissing another man and she is relishing it. Of course the cheeky minx is, she loves car sex. My blood runs cold. How far will they go? Have they fucked? Couldn’t they do this somewhere else? A more private place where my cameras have no reach. Why can’t I take my eyes off the screen? The soft knock on my door stops me from spiralling into self-induced misery, I smoothen my tie and my spine stiffens.
“Come in,” I say loud enough for the person outside to hear, grateful for the distraction.
It has to be Ed, one of Danielle’s many replacements. She was my friend, kind of. Elna said friends give and take but I did all the giving as I should have as the boss. But she betrayed me with a lame excuse of being blackmailed. She should have come to me, we might have worked things out but she didn’t.
Body tense and ready to explode, I crumple a paper in front of me with no care for its content. I admit my mood has taken a dip since the split and the staff endure my disrespect because I overcompensate them with bonuses to make up for the shitty attitude. Only the staff who report directly to me ever get to experience premium asshole Brandon, the rest hear about it. I hope it stays that way for a long time.
Tearing my eyes away from my screen, I say in no calm tone, “Come in now or walk away.”
Eager to unleash the fury pummelling my chest on the lucky human behind the door, I clasp my hands on my desk, staring straight ahead. I was right. Ed saunters in with a shaky smile, I must have ruffled him with my tone. Don’t I always? For one second, I am hit with guilt but I recover fast and fine. If I treat him so badly, why hasn’t he quit like the others before him? Two of which resigned before I could fire them.
A pale hairy hand reaches out to smoothen his tie, a nervous habit of his I noticed and my lips curl into a smirk. At least I still inflict fear on people. Ed stops in front of my table, fiddling with his tie which he dumps at my arched brow. The file in his hand clatters noiselessly to the desk, I redirect my gaze to him.
I should know why he is here, I got an email from him, one I never got a chance to skim through on the ride here. That’s not what occupies my thoughts or fans the embers of my fading anger, it’s his hair. We don’t have a dress policy, I expect my staff to feel comfortable at work, casual but official is our motto and everyone abides by it. His hair is shoulder length and I swear I have no problem with it. Alright, I would have had no issues with it but it shares the same colour and length as the wanker kissing my wife.
“Good morning, Sir,” he murmurs. Nerves make his words come out slurred, he clears his throat and repeats his greetings. I grunt. To all he says, I give curt nods and vague replies. “The investors will be here in a few hours.” I murmur something inaudible to him, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other but I care less about his obvious discomfort. He’s rocking the same haircut as the idiot screwing my wife.
Fuck him, fuck her too.
I exhale. I need to breathe. It was just a kiss. A hot heated kiss that involved fondling, lots of touching and grins. But that’s not what hurts the most, it’s the fact she showed as much enthusiasm to touch him as she did with me. Has the separation turned her into a player or a libidinous woman? I can handle that but I want it to be my mouth or my cock. My cock reacts to that sentiment with a twitch, I glare at Ed.
“That’s all for now, Sir.” I dismiss him. Ed starts for the door, pausing when his hand touches the knob. That might have been his mistake, he should have kept walking. Forward ever. “Happy birthday, Sir.”
Red coats my vision. I scoff. Is he taunting me? I never celebrate my birthday, the staff should know that much about their boss by now. We have an unspoken understanding, no celebrations in the office.
My mouth snaps open, I will be the greatest dickhead in the history of employers if I utter the words resting on the tip of my tongue but what do I care? I am the asshole stalking his wife who thinks he is a monster. She is right, I have done awful things, might as well make an addition to the stagnant list.
With a careless shrug, I smile, feeling smug when Ed relaxes. It will evoke a more painful reaction. His mouth opens but I raise a hand to silence him, I will go first. “Clear your desk on your way out.”
YOU ARE READING
Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM
Romance"I cannot love you, Elna." Grinding my waist against his groin, I cup his face and say, "Then fuck me." * * * When Elna's father first suggests an arranged marriage between her and Brandon Stark--the hot British billionaire--she is reluctant to go...
