Playing with the Big Boys

“You’re a real piece of fucking work, aren’t you darling?” Sarcastic and bitter, the tone cut through me faster than her words could. “Tuesday night. Fantastic night with the disappointment of my life, right, darling? After all, you were there.”

Eyes flashing, fists clenched at her side, she postured herself threateningly towards me. She leaned in, giving me the chance to back up in self-defence. I didn’t back up.

This slip of a woman didn’t scare me. Not like this. Whatever hold she held over me was distracting, worrisome, but not frightening.

“So… how WAS your dinner meeting last night, anyway?” Hands on her hips, I wasn’t sure what, exactly, she was accusing me of having done. There were a few different options.

“Went fine, actually. Thanks for asking.” Shrewishly analyzing her, I asked what she least expected. “I can fill you in on my hook-up after the meeting, too. If you’re that hard up for spank bank material.”

Her head whipped backwards in astonishment, wild eyes staring out of her pale, shocked face.

“That’s what you really want, isn’t it, darling?”

One foot in front of the other, I advanced on her.

“She was an excellent investment, too.”

For every step I marched forward, she retreated one backward. Until her shoulders hit the wall, forcing her still as I stopped inches from her.

“Well worth the hotel suite our company sprung for. Not to mention the gifts and room service WE lavished on her.” My nearly-ex-wife hated that we are still business partners. We each refused to buy the other out, so business partners we remain.

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. This was getting good.

“Expensed everything, as usual, my dear husband?” Her voice wavered as she tried to play my game. “Typical. I hope she really was worth it.”

I ground my hips into hers. She bit her lip to keep from screaming my name in ecstasy.

“Goodness knows she didn’t look like much.” Her breath caught in her throat as she worked at getting the insult out. “All hairspray and boob job.”

Hands beside her head, I caged her in and leaned in close. Mouth grazing her ear, I whispered into it.

“Like that’s not all you are anymore, sweet cheeks.” Then I kissed her.

Hard. Furious. My tongue demanding entry into the sweetest thing ever. Okay, I’ve tasted every inch of her. Her mouth was the second sweetest tasting thing I’d ever eaten.

And I know me eating the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted was all she was thinking about. It drove everything out of my mind, too.

Slender, trembling arms snaked around my neck, pulling me as close as she could. She mewled in delight, my tongue slipping in between her gasps of arousal. We devoured one another for a moment, lost in the desire of our youth.

Reality crashed, and hard, when my office door flung open and someone shrieked.

“Randolph! What do you think you’re doing?” One four-inch-heeled purple Jimmy Choo-clad foot stomped on the luscious carpet, the beginning of a spoiled child’s tantrum. “You should be settling the terms of your divorce, not determining who still has their tonsils.”

Foreheads leaning against each other, I stared into my estranged wife’s eyes. In that moment, it was easy to remember why I’d fallen in love with her. Why we’d gotten married and what brought us to this point in time.

I remembered it all. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing. It would be nice to forget some of it so we could at least attempt to live our lives together.

So much history. Too many problems. Lots of arguments and pushing-pulling to gain control of a relationship doomed from the start.

When we’d first met, she could’ve convinced me to do anything, no matter how outlandish or outside my comfort zone it was. And she usually did, too.

Until this. This changed nothing, and it was better she know that sooner rather than later.

My fingertips tickled her thigh, slipping under the hem of her skirt and northward, skimming the damp silk covering her hot, moist centre. Time for me to assert my dominance and control of the situation.

“You know, sweet cheeks, the divorce is still going through. This changes nothing.” My lips grazed her cheek before lightly nipping her bottom lip, leaving us both breathless. “I didn’t mean this to go further than it has. We’ve never been good for one another, but the sex… oh, the sex has been fantastic.”

I pulled the soaked fabric aside, slipping my fingers in for a sweet treat. An outraged roar and stomping of feet across the office confirmed I wasn’t as subtle as I thought I was being.

Okay, I never thought I was being subtle. But I thought I’d hidden my actions better. Apparently not.

Amber. My wife. Only woman I’d ever love. The only one I could never live with.

My fingers walked through her depths as she looked at me in disbelief. Her body loved what I was doing to her, even if her mind didn’t. Goodness knows I was having the time of my life. Her mouth told a different story. A much different story.

“You bastard!” She hissed at me as her body convulsed with her release and her hand slapped my face. “If you think I’ll be paying that back in kind, you’re sorely mistaken.” She pulled her face into a mask of indignation, barely covering her desire for me, and tugged her dress down.

Head raised, mustering as much dignity as she could, Amber assessed me with a seductive grin. One red-nailed finger touched my lips, tracing a path down my chest to my belt buckle. Cupping me in her hand, squeezing just enough to let me know she was the dominant one now, she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine.

“Never forget, darling husband, just who wears the thigh-high black leather high-heeled boots in this family.” With a chuckle, she stepped back and turned to Fiona, my evil-eye-giving slut of the week. Eyes wide and innocent-looking, my soon-to-be-ex-wife smiled sweetly and crooned, “He’s all yours, honey buns. Hope you can handle him.”

She turned in the doorway to give me one last, longing look.

“Don’t worry, Randy old boy, I’ll be back for more… negotiations… later this week. Make sure you bring your big boy toys. And fresh batteries. You’re going to need them.”

Her full-throated laugh carried her all the way to the elevator. The sound washed over me, reminding me just how much fun it was to play these games with her. My eyes flickered to Fiona. Too easy to read, easier to manipulate. Quick to react. Bored me with the banality of our relationship.

I would continue to play these games with Amber, and she with me. I looked forward to those games, embraced them with every fibre of my being. Amber and I loved nothing better than playing with one another. We were good at it, too.

Fiona, ass swinging seductively, made her way to my side and wrapped herself around me, laying a claim on me she didn’t have. One arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close as I looked into her eyes.

One thought ran through my mind. It made me appreciate everything my almost-ex-wife was, and I missed her in my life before I’d evicted her from it. Fiona smiled, thinking the loving look in my eyes was for her.