Panic grips my chest at his confession. “What do you want, Ryat? Want me to beg? Want to teach me a lesson?”
“No, Blake. I no longer want anything from you.” Leaning forward, he picks up the manila envelope and stands. Walking over to me, he places it in my hands, his cold eyes on mine. “Consider this your wedding gift.” With that, he grabs his leather jacket off the recliner and walks out, the slamming of the front door making me jump.
I plop down on the couch and open it with shaky hands. Pulling out the papers, I feel fresh tears sting my eyes. They’re divorce papers. My heart aches as I flip through the tabs and see he’s already signed them.
When I slam them down on the coffee table, the corner hits my ring. I read the engraving on the inside of the band—till death do us part. I slide it on my finger while my stomach knots.
How did we get here? This is what I wanted, except now it isn’t. Yes, we started out with a lie. But I’m not innocent. I only became his chosen because of Matt. Ryat was right. I ran when I should have gone to him after Matt cornered me in Ryat’s bedroom. No matter how mad or confused I felt, running from my problems wasn’t the answer. Even I knew they’d catch up with me eventually.
Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my thighs, my face in my hands, and swallow the knot lodged in my throat. Why do I care that he wants to walk away? Is it the fact that I failed? I felt what he did that night at the house of Lords party, and that’s why what Matt said hurt so much. Because I thought I was finally getting what every girl wants—love and acceptance.
He chased me down. Killed a man for me. Saved me. That’s more than anyone else has ever done. Ryat promised me in the shower that I am safe with him. That he’d protect me. And then this? I refuse to let him off the hook that easily.
Fuck him and these papers.
Standing up, I grip them and walk over to the fire. I toss them in and watch my only escape plan burn.
Till death do us part,he once said to me. And I’m about to make him eat those words. Walking back to our bedroom, I enter the closet and look over my clothes that he had brought over from my apartment. I grab a T-shirt and a pair of white cotton shorts. After getting dressed, I brush my teeth. I’m rinsing out my mouth when I hear the front door open.
Making my way back into the living room, I place my hands on my hips, preparing for a fight, expecting it to be Ryat. He’s come back. He’s changed his mind too. I have no problem arguing it out with him.
“Ryat?” I hear a female voice call out his name as the front door shuts. Then the last person I expected to see enters the living room. She comes to a stop, and her wide eyes meet mine. “Blakely?” She gasps, swallowing nervously.
My eyes drop to her heels and run up over the black trench coat she wears, already knowing that she’s probably naked underneath. A black leather designer bag hangs from her right hand. “What are you doing here?” I demand, my skin tingling as the jealousy courses through my body. My mind races to conclusions as fast as my heart beats.
“I’m here to see Ryat.” She gives me a smile. That surprised look no longer on her perfectly done-up face. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” I say, lifting my chin.
She gives a laugh. “Well, you haven’t been here over the past three weeks when I’ve been here.”
No!I don’t believe a damn word out of her mouth. Ryat is a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s nothing like Matt. And I refuse to let this bitch get to me. I won’t make that mistake again. “You’re lying.”
“Oh, come on, Blakely.” She laughs, taking a step toward me. “You didn’t possibly think he’d stay faithful after you left him, did you?”
I stay where I am, letting her come to me.
“A man like Ryat has needs.” She runs her tongue along her top bleached teeth. “Needs that you weren’t here to fulfill.” Coming to a stop, she presses her right hip out. “Someone had to keep him satisfied.”
“I guess I should be thanking you then, huh?” I ask, arching a brow.
“I should be thanking you.” She touches her pointer finger to the tip of my nose, and it takes everything in me not to bite it off. “If you hadn’t run like the scared little girl you are, Ryat may have never called me.”
I reach down, my right hand spinning my wedding ring around on my left hand, and then I slap her across the face with everything that I have. I need a release. A bitch fight sounds like just the thing to help that out.
Gasping, her hand shoots to her face as she drops—what I’m guessing is her overnight bag—at her feet. Pulling it away, she looks at the blood from the cut my ring left across her cheek. “Bitch!” she hisses.
“I’m sorry, did my wedding ring cut you?” I ask, giving her an apologetic smile.
“You fucking bitch …” She charges me.
_______________
I SIT ONthe couch, dressed in Cindy’s trench coat. After I was done with her, I did my makeup and hair, then sat back, waiting for my husband to return home from God knows where. I feel like this will be my life a lot—always waiting on him. Not knowing what he’s doing or where he’s at.
Hearing the front door open and close makes me bite back a smile. Seconds later, he steps into the living room, dressed in the same clothes he left in, and comes to a stop. “What are you still doing here?” he demands, his eyes looking over me. I watch them turn heated in a way that tells me even though he’s mad, he’d still fuck me.
Good enough.
“I made you a drink.” I ignore his question and lean forward, picking up the glass of scotch off the coffee table.
He just glares down at me, unmoving. I’m sure he thinks I found his stash of drugs and am trying to knock him out or poison him. “Okay, then.” I shrug and throw the burning liquid back. Some of it runs down my chin onto my chest. “Oops,” I say, pulling the top of the trench coat farther apart to give him a better look. “Wanna lick it off me?” I ask.
“What are you doing here, Blake?” he snaps. “I gave you what you wanted. Take your shit and go.”
I smile up at him, refusing to let his words get to me. Ryat has challenged me every step of the way, and now I’m going to do the same to him. “What if I want something else?”
Reaching behind him, he pulls out his wallet and grabs a hundred-dollar bill. “Need money to run this time?” He tosses it onto my lap.
I flick it off onto the floor like a pesky little gnat and ignore the insult that a hundred dollars would get me far. Standing, I say, “I’m not leaving, Ryat.”
He runs a hand through his hair aggressively. “Blake …”
“What if I told you I fucked a guy while I was gone?”
His teeth clench, shoulders stiffening. Exactly the response I was wanting. “You didn’t,” he argues.
“What if I told you I fucked two guys?” I hold up my right hand, showing him my pointer and middle finger.
“Blake.” He growls my name, making my heart race. He doesn’t understand that he’s giving me exactly what I want. “You better be lying.”
“And if I’m not?” I ask, arching a brow. I’m baiting him.
Reaching out, he yanks me to him. “Then I’ll hurt you.”
I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face. He doesn’t seem like a man who wants a divorce. A man done with his wife doesn’t give a fuck what she does, let alone what dick she’s been riding around on. “It’s only fair, baby. You get pussy, and I get dick.”
His brows crease, confusion marking his gorgeous face. “What?”
I pull away from him and walk into the laundry room. I open the door and reach in, grabbing the blonde who I tied up and tossed in there two hours ago. Thank God she was actually wearing something under that trench coat, or I would have had to dress her too. “Here.” I shove her forward into him.
She trips and he reaches out, grabbing her before she can fall on her face. Pity. “What the fuck, Blake?” he snaps, holding a crying and blabbering Cindy. Thankfully the tape over her mouth keeps her somewhat quiet.
“Consider it your wedding gift.” I repeat his words and cross my arms over my chest.
“What the fuck did you do?” he demands, yanking the tape from her mouth.
“Ryat … Ryat, please,” she begs him, big crocodile tears running down her face, ruining her once flawless makeup and dried blood from my ring to her cheek. “Help me. She’s crazy—”
“Cindy showed up to get her nightly fuck—you know, the one she’s been getting for the past three weeks while I was away—and was surprised to see me here,” I interrupt her rambling.
He looks at me, his green eyes wide with disbelief. I can’t even begin explaining the feeling of relief I have in my gut that he’s confirming what I already knew. He hasn’t touched her. “Are you serious? You honestly think I’m fucking her?”
I shrug. “It is what it is. Call it leveling the playing field.”
“You’re fucking crazy!” she screams, struggling in his grip. “You fucking bitch …”
He slams the side of her head into the wall, knocking her out, and I bite back a smile of satisfaction. Letting go of her, she falls to the floor, and he steps over her to me. I stay planted in my place, not afraid of him. Not anymore. My husband is powerful, but if I’m going to be a Lady, then I need to raise myself to his level. I’ll start by going head-to-head with him.
“I haven’t had an affair,” he growls, getting in my face.
“She proves otherwise.” I point at the unconscious woman.
“So, you’re going to believe her just like you did Matt?”
I say the only words that I know will push him even further. “Well, Matt wasn’t wrong.” He said that Ryat paid my father five hundred thousand, but that wasn’t actually true. However, Ryat did offer that much for me. So, it’s true enough if you ask me. The tracker in my cell, controlling who I talk to, all that was true.
He steps into me, nose to nose. Bring it. I’m all in. I didn’t throw those divorce papers in the fire for nothing. Ryat wants a Lady? I’ll give him a motherfucking lady.
CHAPTER FORTY
RYAT
TRYING TO WRAP my mind around what I came home to, I shake my head. “I haven’t fucked her in over three years.” Back before I took my oath. Blake is the only woman I’ve been with since I joined the Lords my freshman year at Barrington.
“Sure. And I didn’t fuck anyone while I was away.” She winks at me, nibbling on her bottom lip playfully.
The fuck?
Giving me her back, she goes to walk off, but I reach out, grab her upper arm, and spin her around. I grip her neck with my free hand. “You better be fucking lying, Blake.” I will chase down and dismember any man who she touched. Then I’ll beat that fine ass black and blue until she remembers who owns it.
“Is that what you want, Ryat?” she goes on. “Want us to be open?”
“Absolutely not …”
“You fuck who you want.” She tilts her head to the side, her eyes dropping to my T-shirt and the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen crosses her face. “I fuck whoever I want.”
My hands are fucking shaking. My blood boiling.
“We can share … Maybe you want to watch another man fuck me.”
I spin us around, slamming her back into the wall. Her eyes close, and her lips part, forcing a whimper. “I think those three weeks away made you forget who I am, Blake. Let me remind you.” Picking her up, I throw her over my shoulder and carry her off to the bedroom, where I toss her onto our bed, facedown.
She giggles, and it makes my hard cock twitch with anticipation. I can’t even think about the fact that I’m playing into her game right now. Blakely knows what to do to piss me off, and she did it.
Opening my nightstand, I grab the handcuffs. Yanking her hands behind her back, I tighten them around her wrists as tight as I can and hear the little whimper she tries to hide. It makes me smile. I lean over her back and whisper in her ear, “You wanted to be punished. Remember that.”
Then I stand and flip her onto her back, pinning them underneath her and forcing a cry from her lips. It makes my hard cock twitch. Those three years I had to abstain from sex was nothing compared to the three weeks without her.
It was fucking torture.
Undoing my jeans, I pull my hard cock out and then undo the sash holding the trench coat closed. I rip it open to expose her body to me, and she arches her back, wiggling her arms underneath her to try to relieve the pain. It’s not going to help her.
Crawling onto the bed, I spread her legs with my knees, and my hand goes to her pussy. She’s wet. I knew she would be. She was already wound up, just begging to be fucked.
I slide into her, no foreplay. A part of me wants to hurt her. After I finish with her, I want her to still feel me between her legs. I lay my body on top of hers, pinning her down even more, bringing tears to her eyes.