Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

“Aren’t you a ball of sunshine? Pedro, over there”—he nods toward the bar—“said you’re having water. Don’t worry, I’ve fixed that. Fucking happiness is coming to you.” Raising his hand, he waves it and then points to the table between us.

“We’re not here for the booze, Oliver,” Leo says, sitting back down.

I’m about to sit too, when my gaze catches. My heart goes from a steady pulse to a violent pound.

There she is.

Soul-deep yearning chokes me. My surroundings blur, and all I see is my wife.

Beautiful as ever. She walks to the bar, and before she reaches it, the bartender already has her drink ready. Nothing much is said; there isn’t a smiley exchange…nothing. It’s a heartbreaking exchange to witness as she takes her drink with a tip of her chin and wanders back out of sight.

The long skirt of her dress billows behind her with each step. The lace hugs her chest, emphasizing her slight frame.

There’s nothing I can do to deflate the expectation as I peruse down her body to her tummy, anticipating its roundness. Pain swallows me when I’m met with her almost flat stomach.

“You never change, do you? Always business. Learn to have some fun, Fairfax.”

“We have very different kinds of fun. Besides, tonight’s business.” Nudging my leg with the tip of his shoe, Leo nods at the seat.

It’s obvious he’s aware of her presence too.

“I’ve told Christopher about the expansion, but I haven’t gone into much detail. Obviously, our main priority is to make sure that everything is above board. We have the investors, but before we approach them, we need to know all the nitty-gritty. Full disclosure of your member list. Numbers…”

“I sent it over already.”

“Not all of it,” Leo states, leaving no room for argument.

It’s impossible for me to sit here and listen to a conversation Leo has fully covered. This is the closest I’ve been to her in what feels like an eternity.

I need to get closer.

“I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for either of them to speak, I make in the direction she disappeared. The piano gets louder, and when I reach another tight hallway, I still.

Satie’s compositions are her favourites. Her back is to me, but from the way her head is tilted slightly to the side, I can tell that she’s lost to the music. She’s somewhere else, and I hope to God that it’s with me.

I need her to be with me.

I can barely breathe while I take her in. Her back is straight and demurely poised, her elegant arm perfectly extended as her fingers move over the keys with so much ease that it’s awing. One of the most fucking dazzling things to watch.

Slipping into one of the booths that lines this room, I sit as far back into the shadow as I can, and I watch her. The way her shapely legs tense when she uses the pedal. The way her shoulders hitch with her heaving breaths.

I feel it all. Every note.

Mouth dry and body aching, I’m frozen to my hiding place. The yearning inside me scratches and screams, a complete juxtaposition to the soft, steady melody she’s playing. It’s begging me to get to my feet and take her back.

But for some reason, I can’t. Anger and need are twisting me up so bad that I can’t move. All I can do is watch her.

With my mouth watering at the way she gently tosses her hair over shoulder, I can imagine her sweet scent filling my lungs as I inhale deeply. Her dark curls snake down her back.

I swear my skin and fingers have a memory of their own, because all I feel is hot silk singeing my hands, in that way it always does when her tresses are wrapped around my fists.

When I touch her and she moans, clinging to me. Just as when she lies on my chest and her hair tickles my skin, her fingers and nails trailing and scratching at my flesh.

I feel all those things like they’re in the here and now, and although the only thing I want in this moment is to hold her, my body heats and hardens, so desperate to get lost in her.

Come back to me, beautiful, I beg and will as arduously as I can. God and I don’t exactly see eye to eye, but for her I would get on my knees, pleading for forgiveness for all my sins. Even the ones that I am most proud and least repentant about.

My hand rests on my chest, pressing her rings to my heart before it settles in my lap with the other. My hard dick is aching, my chest raw and pulling apart.