MARCUS
There’s just something so satisfying about putting a woman in her place. It’s the most therapeutic thing you could possibly do, and it’s so refreshing to know that where she might have thought she had the upper hand on you, it was never even a competition. Some women just deserved to be reminded of their place in life every once in a while, and it was such a beautiful thing to witness
I should know; I’d done it over a million times already.
I thought I was ready to see Olivia again. Even after everything, the only time I ever saw her was on the news when she tried to get into a supermarket and was hounded by paparazzi or angry New Yorkers who thought she was a cheating, gold–digging hoe.
To be honest, a part of me felt bad for her. After all, this was the woman I’d loved for the better half of a decade now, and the woman who I’d convinced myself at one point that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. I truly believed that she was the one, and for a while things were good. For a while, the ugly truth about our marriage remained as far away as possible, and I always forgot about it as soon as I saw her beautiful face.
Today reminded me of what it was like in those early days. From the moment Liv walked into the conference room, I knew I’d fallen for her. Every ounce of my being was ready to devote myself to the absolutely gorgeous specimen, who didn’t even realise how amazing she looked. As soon as she stepped in, I made a mental note to ensure that she didn’t get the job. I had to argue with the board members, but my decision was final. I was relieved to find out that the next applicant–who just happened to be her best friend–was also just as equally qualified, so I gave her the job without even thinking about it.
Wooing her was not easy. Olivia was a difficult woman to please. I had to pull out all the stops, showing up to her apartment unannounced with bag of gifts, a random ticket to Azerbaijan to watch the Formula One race, a romantic dinner on the Seine, or a weekend getaway in Bora Bora. I knew the way to a woman’s heart was through your actions, and showing her you cared about her and were willing to do anything to make sure that she understood how much she meant to you.
And boy did I do that with Olivia.
The first time I slept with her was during our weekend getaway. It wasn’t that I hadn’t tried a few times already, but she was always so guarded and so cautious about her actions. She didn’t want us to spoil our relationship with sex, and she wanted us to get to know each other a whole lot more than we already did.
Who the fuck was going to do all that?
Instead, I decided to throw all caution to the wind. And that night, during a steamy make out session, I dipped my fingers in her pants and that was the end of that. By the time the sun came up, I’m made her orgasm five times, and she was practically butter in my hands.
Those were the days, when her sexual appetite was so high that she would come to the office in the middle of the day for a quickie. I missed that wild recklessness, that devil–may–care attitude that seemed to guide our entire relationship. Neither of us cared about getting caught, and the thrill kept our relationship alive.
Today, for the first time in years, I felt that spark again. I wished I hadn’t washed my hands so I could taste her once again, but I’d done so to show her that she was worthless to me. I regretted it as soon as the water touched my fingers, and I wished I could go back and do it all over again.
But there was no possibility of that happening. We were already in the courtroom, and her lawyer was busy talking with her back turned to me. Olivia had walked in a few minutes ago, after we’d all been waiting for her for almost thirty minutes. I didn’t tell anyone about the encounter in the bathroom, and I certainly wasn’t going to do that now. I was pleased to find out that she had regained her composure before she came to the courtroom, and no
Chapter Fifteen
one would ever believe her if she told them what happened
