Kicking Reality

And now I needed answers.

I pick up my cell and dial his number—voicemail.

My rage intensifies with every missed call until finally—an hour later—his name appears on my screen.

I clutch at my cell with the tightest of grips, watching the color drain from my hand until it’s almost all white. I do my best to control my ill feelings towards him but the second I answer and the call connects, I lash out at the one man I had trusted my life with.

Logan fucking Carrington—my ex-brother.

“Should George be eating that cracker?”

I yell into the bedroom, watching George with one eye as he devours a cracker in the corner of the kitchen. I knew he didn’t like to be watched—another quirky habit of his that baffled me.

Inside the bedroom, Emmy is sitting in our bed reading.

“Can you not scream that in front of George? It’s diet doggy crackers. Ever since you hit the scene, George has put on a few pounds.”

“A few?” I laugh. “The dog can’t fit the through the doggy door. Last night, I had to save him from an embarrassing fail as he tried to pass through it.”

“You’re not helping his ego right now,” she complains, pouting her lips looking all cute and shit.

I grab the remote from the nightstand and climb into bed. I loved that the sheets were warm and that inside the bed is this sexy woman who belonged to me—my fiancée.

She’s engrossed in reading, wearing her new glasses which she complained made her look like a grandma. I thought she looked like a hot librarian—a virgin at that. One who had never had her clothes ripped off by any man.

“Are you still reading Abbi’s manuscript?”

Emmy nods, barely acknowledging me.

“And?”

She places it down—annoyed at my interruption. “It’s so good. I haven’t put it down since I began two hours ago. Except for now, because you’re needy and crave attention.”

I bury myself into her side, sliding my hand into my favorite spot: the crevice just beneath her tits. Her scent is intoxicating, and I feel myself getting instantly hard.

“I am needy,” I tell her, rubbing myself against her hip. “I need you on all fours and your ass in my face . . . now.”

She smacks me with the manuscript, bruising my ego only. I pull away and lie on my back; my head against the soft pillow and switching the TV on until she yanks the remote out of my hands and switches it off.

“I’m ready.” There’s a nervous smile on her face and a sudden burst of energy. Odd, coming from a distracted woman who was busy reading only moments ago.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” She removes her tank exposing her tits. Fuck, they’re so fucking perfect I could cry. Seriously—tit heaven. “Oh, and I have something special.”

“A swing?”

“No.”

“Anal beads?”

“No.” She hesitates. “But I guess you could use it in my ass if you want.”

She removes something from under the bed and places it in front of me. It’s a black box. I open it and find a vibrator inside. It’s blue with pink polka dots all over it.

“Apparently, it has multiple speed settings and can get you off in less than a minute. Plus, it’s pretty, don’t you think?” she rambles on.

I could hear the anxious tone in her voice. Something isn’t quite right, and rather than lead with my dick, I watch her with curiosity. She’s on her knees, topless with her eyes wide staring back at me. The corner of her lip is trapped beneath her bite while she twists the end of her hair around her finger almost fidgeting.