5

Her cheeks flare with uncertainty. Before, I was just a rich customer. Now, I’ve transformed in her eyes. I’ve become something riskier, more dangerous.

She still isn’t anywhere close to understanding the true scope of things.

She takes a few steps forward, but she makes no move to sit down. “Who are you?” she whispers in a timid voice that sends lightning bolts straight to my cock.

“Leo Solovev.”

“Leo Solovev,” she murmurs. “Should I recognize that name?”

“I don’t see why you would.”

“You’re not some, like, prince from a foreign country or something, are you?”

I snort. “I’m the farthest thing on earth from a prince. Flattered you’d think so, though.”

She blushes a little. She looks up at the ceiling, at the walls, at the floor between her feet. Like she’s wondering how on earth she ended up here with me.

But I know.

I know exactly how.

I planned it.

“Willow.”

Her head jerks towards me.

“Sit down.”

She hesitates for one moment longer. Then, setting her jaw like she’s preparing to jump out of an airplane, she bypasses the two single armchairs and sits on the plush white sofa next to me. As before, she keeps an unnecessary amount of distance between us.

“I… I’m really sorry about that,” she mumbles, gaze rooted down at her black ballet flats. “That was embarrassing.”

“For him.”

She looks up at me, cheeks aflame, but says nothing.

“You’re blushing,” I remark.

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“I feel like I said too much earlier. I basically puked my sob story right into your lap. It’s… humiliating.”

“Having met your husband now, I’d say it’s understandable.” I take a sip of my vodka. “Charming guy.”

She sighs and closes her eyes. “You two really hit it off,” she drawls.

I laugh and cross my ankle over my knee. “Was I not on my best behavior?”

“Depends on your idea of manners, I guess.”

“Nonexistent.”

Her eyes blink open, and I’m struck by their vibrant shade of blue. In all my many months of planning, I certainly hadn’t expected her to be this striking.

Her raven black hair looks unnatural at first, but when you look closer, you realize how dark her roots really are. Midnight in a cave. Onyx dipped in oil. It’s mesmerizing.

There’s nothing fake about this woman.

“I want something of my own,” she says in the hushed tone of a confession. “I don’t want to have to rely on him my whole life.”

She shakes her head. Frustration presses down on her shoulders.

“I walked in on him sleeping with his coworker a month ago,” she continues. “That same night, I cooked him dinner while he sat there and told me all the ways I was lucky to have him.”

“Like I said, charming guy.”

A bubble of laughter escapes her lips, but it curdles almost immediately. “All I wanted to do that night was leave. But I knew I couldn’t. I have no friends. No money. I lost everything when I agreed to marry Casey. And I was so naïve and idealistic at the time that I actually thought I was the one winning the lottery.”

A lash of low, rumbling anger stirs in my chest. But I suppress it—for now.

“I had to sleep in that bed the same night I caught him cheating,” she continues. “It was the ultimate humiliation. You’d think by now I’d have gotten used to it.”

“How did that son of a bitch manage to convince you that you’re not good enough for him?”

She scoffs. “What makes you think I am?”

“Look at you.”

I reach out and stroke her face with one gentle thumb. She holds her breath, doesn’t move. Like one wrong twitch will send us both plummeting over the edge.

“The best revenge is living well,” I tell her.

“Unfortunately, I live with him.”

I lean in. “But you don’t have to.”

With desire coursing through my body, I press my lips to hers. She freezes for a second, her body tensing. Then she leans into the kiss.

Nothing takes me by surprise anymore. Nothing shocks me. I have been in control for years now. I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul.

I’ve planned this moment for a long fucking time.

And yet, this kiss… it takes me by surprise.

4

WILLOW

My first coherent thought is, God, this feels good.

Who knew it was even possible that a kiss can feel so wholly intense? That it can make you feel powerful? That it can put a broken person back together again?

My second thought is, These aren’t my husband’s lips I’m kissing. There’s a moment of guilt, quickly followed by a wave of anger.

Casey cheated on me by fucking some stranger in our bed… and here I am, feeling guilty for one tiny, meaningless, innocent little kiss.

Except the purist in me is forced to acknowledge that no kiss is innocent.

Especially not this one.

The tingling in my lips has spread to my entire body now. For the first time in years, I feel my pussy throb back to life. I’ve spent so long thinking I was broken inside. Shattered beyond repair.

I’m only just now realizing that my loss of sexual desire the last few years has nothing to do with me—and everything to do with Casey.

The man’s hand curls around my waist. I gasp as he pulls me onto his lap.

He feels different, somehow. So solid and strong.

It’s a strange observation, considering Casey’s a big man in his own right. But some nights while suffering under my husband’s sweaty thrusts and grunts, I get the feeling he’s insubstantial. Like sand in my arms. I try to hold on and he just seems to waste away.

But this man? He feels alive.

I breathe him in. Under the vodka, I smell oak, mint, leather. If confidence had a smell, this would be it.

When I sense his erection between my thighs, I pull back with another small gasp. My eyes find his. In a sudden moment of clarity, I take stock of the position I’ve found myself in.

I’m straddling a stranger. My arms clutch his shoulders for support. His hands grip my waist like he could break me in half if he cared to.

“I… what did you say your name was?” I stammer. I honestly can’t remember.

“Leo.”

“Leo,” I repeat. “God, what am I doing?”

“Letting go.”

His fingertip snakes beneath the untucked hem of my uniform. I hiss at the skin-on-skin contact and recoil. “No, no… We can’t…”

“Why not?”

He doesn’t seem in the least bit put off by my hesitancy. In fact, he looks a little intrigued by it. The type of man who likes a challenge.

“Because… because I’m married, for starters. Just because he cheated doesn’t mean I have the right to.”

“Doesn’t it?” he asks.

His finger strokes over the bare skin of my hip and my eyes flutter with desire. Leo is not making this easy in the slightest. “He’s still my husband.”

“Don’t waste your time being faithful to people who don’t deserve it. You want something, Willow? Fucking take it.”