"What more do you want from me!" Nick shouted from down the hallway, slamming his fist hard on the bedroom door. "Tell me!"
Jennifer wasn't about to turn around. She kept walking, faster, harder, until she reached the arched kitchen doorway when the anger in her husband's voice exploded beyond what she could bear.
This was it. She was through with playing games. She was going to leave him.
And this time she wasn't coming back.
"I'm talking to you, Jennifer." Nick was quick to reach the end of the hallway when he grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to turn around and look at him. His once blue eyes were now dull and bloodshot. The top buttons on his dress shirt were unbuttoned and his tie was barely dangling around his neck. His breath smelled of whiskey and he reeked of cheap perfume. His light brown hair was drenched with sweat and lay messily about his head.
Jennifer stared up at her husband, the man she had once loved, the man she would have once given her life for.
But not tonight.
Tonight, she hated the man standing before her. In fact, she hated everything about him. Tonight, she wished that Nicholas Sphere had never entered into her life.
"Is it not enough that I support you financially?" Nick shouted in her face, squeezing her shoulders a little too tightly. "Is it not enough that my job enables us to travel the world?" He started shaking her. "I bought you this house. I bought you the Mercedes you love to drive." He stopped shouting long enough to give her a quick look up and down. "I even bought you that damn shirt."
"Take it then, Nick." Jennifer raised her voice to equal his own alarming tone before lifting both of her hands to his chest to push him away. "Take it all. I don't want any of it. I just want to leave." She broke free from his grip by slamming her fists into the center of his chest.
Nick stumbled backward, although managed to catch himself against the gannet built-in-bar behind him. But after a few awkward maneuvers, he lurched unsteadily, only to fall face first on the hard-wood flooring.
Jennifer instinctively took a step toward her drunken husband, only to come to a direct halt.
Old habits die hard.
No, not tonight. Tonight she was breaking free of that old tradition. Tonight, she wasn't going to lift a finger to help him. Nick enjoyed surrounding himself with trash; on the floor, wallowing in the dirt and excess food was where he belonged.
"Jenn..." Nick slurred. He raised his arm, expecting her to take pity on his pathetic behavior and play the loving, supportive house-wife she had regrettably let herself become.
But not tonight. Not ever again.
Jennifer folded her arms over her chest and slowly walked over to stand above him. She pressed the spiked heel of her boot against his shoulder and kicked him hard, sending his body flying back to the ground.
Nick bellowed in pain. "What...the...fuck!" he shouted aloud, attempting to grab at her leg with an angry jerk.
Jennifer was quick to step away from his flaring arms. "You're pathetic, Nick. I never wanted any of this." She opened up her arms wide and looked around at the richly furnished kitchen. "I only wanted you." A single tear fled the corner of her dark green eyes, but she quickly ran a perfectly manicured finger over her cheek to wipe it away. "But I refuse to share you with every other woman in town."
Nick managed to lift himself into a sitting position and stretched forth his hand, as if finally ashamed of his long-term promiscuous activities outside his marriage. "Jenn, please. Let me explain."
"No!" Jennifer shouted in a rage of both frustration and anger. Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she glared down at him. "Tonight you will suffer as I have for the past six years."
Nick slanted his head in slight confusion. "Baby, please. You're overreacting."
A dark haze suddenly shifted in her eyes as she continued to look at him. Her hands were literally trembling with rage, but she forced her voice to lower to a steady, low volume. She stood up straight and squared her slender shoulders before speaking. "So, you think that I'm overreacting, do you?" Jennifer nearly whispered. She casually walked closer, clanking her heel boots with each step of the way. She knelt down beside him, brushing the black ink of her long curls behind her ear. "Perhaps you are right," her voice smooth as silk. She was leaning into him; she could feel her nipples tighten as she slightly brushed up against his rapidly beating chest.
Nick's bloodshot eyes widened to stare up at her. With slow hesitation, he turned to face her, stealing a quick, obvious glance at the low-cut opening of her silk blouse. "Perhaps we could work something out. I don't want to lose you."
She just stared at him--the man she had loved for six long years. The man she had pledged her love and heart to, the man who had taken her virginity, the man who had sworn to love, honor, and cherish her, the man who could melt her heart of stone each and every time he looked at her, the same man who turned her blood hot by a simple touch.
"You want to try and make this better, don't you Jenn?" Nick's voice deepened with a low whisper. He lifted long fingers to caress the sides of her face. His touch was warm--calming. The heat of his near breath aroused irritable goosebumps to lace up and down the lengths of her arms. Her entire body began to quiver from under his spell.
"Please, Jenn; tell me you want to try." He leaned in closer, dipping his head into the crook of her neck and breathed long and deep. His sudden nearness and the sweet heat of his mouth was suddenly pinning her angry thoughts down by chains of steel. His fingers gently caressing the sides of her face and playing with the long length of her hair was soon erasing the burning sting of betrayal she had so strongly felt against him.
"Maybe we should..." Jennifer swallowed hard before finishing. "Talk." Her dark eyes lifted to meet his hungry gaze, and there was no way of denying the rising passion held so firmly in his expression.
Nick brushed a long finger down the smooth trail of her throat and smiled with deviant intent. "The bedroom."
Jennifer widened her eyes as if she possessed the ability to decline, but she slowly nodded in submission.
Nick barely leaned on her for support as he practically leaped to his feet. He was still drunk, but the flailing, pathetic man who had so recently been lying on the floor, no longed existed. Now, given that he held the slightest chance of getting laid, Nick held himself up straight, floated, rather than walked, and held his words together by intelligent and completely coherent sentences.
Lame.
Jennifer fought the urge to roll her eyes as she led the way down the long, narrow hallway that eventually merged into the vast, richly furnished, beautifully decorated master bedroom. Ancient paintings covered the creamy, pale-white walls, a four-post, king-size bed lay in the center of the room, draped with a silk, golden comforter and matching pillows. Thick fabrics of white lace and satin hung romantically from the banister that surrounded all four corners of the bed, and the pure white and golden headboard was carved of wood in intricate flower designs.
The lights were turned off, but the full moon peered vaguely through the opened windows of the small balcony that revealed the handsome, masculine features of Nick's face.
He was much taller than her. His body was built of hard stone and the tight muscles in his arms were beckoning her to free his body of restraint.
Jennifer reluctantly turned around to stare at herself in the giant, oval mirror hanging from above the delicate vanity table along the wall. She saw black hair falling over her slender shoulders and two fierce green eyes that were lost to the rebelling lust consuming her petite features. She inhaled slowly, forcing herself to remain still when the heavy sound of Nick's footsteps vibrated the floor, as well as every nerve in body.
She could feel him near. Very near. She could feel the heat of his breath warming the side of her cheek; she could taste the minty pleasure of his tongue as he slipped up behind her to press his mouth against the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. He tasted the tanned length of her flesh, gently trailing his hands over her arms and shoulders in a deliberate path of seduction.
Jennifer closed her eyes, resisting the urge to take him into her hands and punish him for tempting her so easily.
And Nick did tempt her. Oh, but this man knew things. He knew how to touch her. He knew how to kiss and make love to her. He knew how to fuck her and how to make her scream from multiple orgasms, where most men never even learned to induce one. He knew her every scream, her every quiver, every moan, and every pleasure that no other man in the world could relate to.
It had been Nick;
only
Nick.
Jennifer finally reopened her eyes when the buttons on her blouse began to unbutton at the firm movement of his skilled fingers. The fullness of her breasts filled the palms of his hands and Nick gently massaged each of her breast in a slow, firm movement before making his way to her nipples, where he pinched and pulled and twisted until Jennifer finally released her moan.
She threw her head back against the solid steal of his chest when she felt the silk of her shirt slide down the length of her arms.
Nick let out a sigh deep in the back of his throat before reaching down to unbutton the front of her slacks. The black fabric inched its way down her long legs and over her spiked heeled boots. Slowly, he slipped his finger under her lacy red thong and began tugging it down to meet with the pool of clothing at their feet.
Jennifer glance at herself in the mirror. She looked petite and small standing in front of Nick. His shoulders were wide and broad, and his arms were long and thick. He could easily crush her with his bare hands. He could snap her neck like a twig if he desired, but Jennifer didn't fear his power. If anything, it aroused her.
"Baby..." Nick murmured softly. "You are so beautiful." His grip on her body tightened as he ran his hands up and down the tight muscles in his stomach and over her plump breasts. And at last, he trailed his hands downward, until the firm pressure of his fingers met with the liquid heat of her arousal.
