Dead Flower (Sequel to The Flower Girl Book Two)

Chapter 22: Gone

                            Veronica

I just shot a man down. Not the kind where his blood splatters on the ground behind him. But maybe his heart was blasted from his chest. When haven't I done that before? The wedding ring must haven't been clue enough. It's big enough to blind anyone with the sparkling diamond. Maybe he just thought I was one of those types of wives. The one with candy on the side. If that were the case, Andrew would be the unlicensed Dentist. Checking for cavities, while I try to suck his cock.

Ever make a mistake and it just keeps playing on in your head, making you feel even more dumb? That's probably how the stranger man feels. I reminisce on the humility of my own actions. Years later I'll remember something stupid I did, hoping no one else remembers. The sins cripple my throat, driving me to become speechless. I'm being doomed by the mistake of cheating.

Back at the house, I lay in bed. Watching the blinds smack the window as the fan blows. The curtains wallow. Andrew finally wakes. Slithering a hand around my torso, he pulls me into him. "Morning sweetheart."

Turning to face him, I press my face into his chest. Absorbing the heat from his skin. "I love you." Placing kisses all across his collar bone, he grabs the back of my head.

We stare into each other's eyes briefly, before he submerges his lips onto my. Clawing at the shirt he isn't wearing, I leave scratch marks on his back. Andrew's groans fill my insides as he pushes them down my throat, and into my stomach.

Oddly enough, I'm still hungry. Maybe his cock will be enough to fill me up. "Fuck me." He missed out because of me. I need to make it up to him.

"Mmh baby, I thought you were an Angel. Now you're begging me to fuck you. I'll go get some soap to clean that dirty mouth."

Popping my lips open with a groan, "I'm not begging!"

His lips suffocate the skin across my neck, leaving his mark. "I know, but I am. I'll get down on my knees and beg for you."

While he continues, I stare up at the ceiling. Rubbing my hands over his back, he reminds me of the ceiling. Smooth, untouchable, and above everyone else. Except his skin is marked with Ink. Unlike Andrew, the ceiling is pure. "Tell me you love me." Because I love everything about you. The scars on his skin. I'll bury them with my lips. I can't think of any flaws, but if he has any, I love them to.

"I love you Veronica." I can taste the words off his tongue. Something about them taste...like plastic, fake and forced.

"Prove it." How do you prove to someone that you love them? Gifts, by words, actions, I haven't a clue.

"You want to know how much I love you? Work is sending me to New York soon. I want you and Flower to come with me." So many questions mesh in my mind. When, for how long, for what? Is anyone else from his work going? It's like Andrew can read the questions in my eyes. Then he asks one of his own, not easing mine. "Do you want to go?"

Sitting straight up, my head begins to ache. "For work? But why? Is it only you? Why New York? Are we flying?" The questions roll off my tongue.

Andrew wraps his hand around my chin, shushing me. He kisses my forehead. "Easy babe. Don't want you to start hyper ventilating. It's not just me....Aubrey is going to. We have to pitch an idea to a company. They're in New York. We're flying, on a private jet. They're also paying for the hotel."

Aubrey is going? I'm still upset about what she did. I haven't talked to her since that night. I feel like this will be awkward. "Do you want us to go?"

Dumbfounded, the look could drop a person's IQ. I thought it was a good question. "If I didn't want the two of you to go, then I wouldn't have asked baby."