I try to look away from her as she continues to undress, but I can’t. After not seeing her for weeks, I’m aroused at the mere sight of her taking off a damn sock.
Her pink sundress hits the floor, revealing black lace panties and a matching bra. It’s the same set she wore the final night of our honeymoon, and I know she’s putting on this slow, sensual show to fuck with me. To make me beg for a taste.
Looking over at me, as if she’s finally about to say something, she takes off her wedding ring and tosses it into my lap.
“I don’t think so.” I narrow my eyes at her, letting out a breath. “You’re going to put this back on before we leave here. We’re not really divorced.”
“We’re not really married either,” she finally speaks, scowling as she unclasps her bra. “I don’t see why it matters if I wear it or not. I’m nothing more than a job or a burden to you… I always have been, and I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
“There’s a long list of things that you should be sorry for,” I say, clenching the ring. “That isn’t one of them.”
Her bra hits the floor, then her panties, and my cock immediately hardens. I’m tempted to walk over to her and demand that we end this stalemate with sex, but the look in her eyes tells me to stay far away.
She’s far too pissed to think logically right now.
Before I can tell her that she needs to take her game to another bathroom, I remember that this is the only master suite in this house.
It’s on me to leave.
I can’t.
She pulls her hair up into a topknot ponytail and steps over to the clawfoot tub that sits in front of the windows. Running a hot, bubble bath, she picks up a white loofah and moves it between her breasts, all the way up to her neck.
Never making eye contact with me, she takes her time torturing me with her every move. In an attempt to temporarily distract myself, I pick up my phone and notice a new text from Trevor.
Trevor: Mr. Pryor should be dead by morning. One more to go for each of us…
Me: Good. Thank you.
Trevor: Where the hell are you?
I don’t answer him right away. Instead, I make a mental note to call him later, redirecting my attention to Meredith.
“Meredith…” I say, setting down my phone as she steps out of the tub.
She doesn’t answer.
“I need to ask you something important,” I say. “You said something interesting right before we broke up a few weeks ago…”
“We didn’t ‘break up’, Michael.” She looks at me, a mix of hurt and anger in her eyes. “You broke us.”
She puts on a robe and walks over to the attached en-suite.
Holding back a sigh, I follow her. “You know that I’m not the type of man who’s going to beg you to talk to me.”
“I know.” She shrugs. “You’re the type of man who thinks he’s too big to apologize, a man who walks around killing people if the price is right, and a man who will go through extreme measures just to ensure that someone has to be indebted to you for ‘saving’ them from a situation they never asked to be in…”
“The only thing I’ve ever really wanted from you—outside of what I’ve already received, is a goddamn thank you.”
“Thank you.” She narrows her eyes at me, and then her breath hitches in her throat. “If I say it a few more times, will it prevent you from senselessly killing anyone else?”
“Senselessly?”
“Yes. Senselessly. As in being a murderer, killing for no damn reason, or killing for money…”
“What I do is not killing.” I clench my jaw. “It’s karma. And no, that won’t do a goddamn thing to help the ones I have left.”
“Is the money that good?” She looks disheartened. “What’s the payout?”
“There isn’t one,” I say. “The ones I do personally, I do for free.”
Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back. “Well, in that case, you would have to get on your knees for days, and fucking beg me for hours before I even considered saying much of anything else to you.”
“Let’s put that on our shared list of things that will never happen in this lifetime.”
“Michael…” She shakes her head, sighing—looking as if she’s disappointed in herself for even trying to talk to me. “Honestly, how do you sleep at night?”
“You already know that I don’t.”
I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. I just leave the room.
I’ve had enough of her games and feigned outrage for one night.
I’m not begging for shit.
Meredith
Now
Two mornings later
Michael has a glass chessboard set up and waiting for me on the coffee table. Freshly shaven and looking even sexier than he did yesterday, he walks over to me as I step into the living room. Then he hands me a cup of coffee, silently asking me to play.