Letting her nipples go, I grab her hips and spin her around, my cock primed and ready for round two. The moment I see her face, though, in the bright light of the bathroom and her makeup washed away, I see a deep purple line running down her cheek.
“What in the fuck happened?” I ask, my voice rising with each word.
When she tries to turn her head away, I gently pinch her chin and bring it back to me.
“Camila, what happened to your face?”
“It’s nothing. I promise it looks worse than it feels.”
I clench my teeth together and grit out. “That doesn’t answer my question. Did someone hit you?”
“Not someone, but something.”
“Elaborate.”
She pulls in a breath through her nose and pushes it out through her mouth.
“I was going to The Coffee Bean to grab a drink after leaving work today. I met Whitney, the ten-year-old girl who lives next door to me. Just as we were about to go inside, the door was thrust open. I pulled Whitney out of the way, but I got hit in the face by the edge of the door.”
Anger has the muscles in my jaw twitching. “What asshole was it?”
She waits a minute to answer, and I don’t like the look on her face. “Addison.”
My hands ball into fists, and I have to force back the incredible need to plant my fist into the shower wall and pretend it’s my wife’s face. I’d never hit a woman, no matter how angry a certain one makes me, but that doesn’t stop me from imagining her face that I want to hit.
I cup the side of her face and gently stroke my thumb over the mark. The longer I look at it, the angrier I become.
“Did she at least fucking apologize?”
She snorts out a humorless laugh. “Not even close. She actually blamed the whole thing on Whitney and called her a brat.”
My blood turns to lava. It’s a damn good thing I’m a man who is firmly against harming women. Had I been in Camila’s shoes, there’s no telling what I would have done.
“I’m so damn sorry, baby.”
Her brows pinch down. “What are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong.”
“That bitch is my wife.”
“And? You can’t control what she does.”
Bending my knees, I press a soft kiss against her cheek, right over the mark. “I’m still sorry this happened to you.”
She wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her tits against my chest, and tips her head back. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”
She may be able to put it behind her, but I damn sure won’t be able. Even so, I give her a tight nod.
“Yeah.”
Addison has gone too far, and it’s about time I put a stop to it.
* * *
Later that night,or rather, in the wee hours of the morning, Camila and I are still in the motel. I’m half reclining against a mound of pillows and she’s laying sideways on the bed with her head in my lap facing me. She has one hand tucked under her good cheek and the other laying on my chest over my heart. One of my hands is tucked under my head, while my other hand is running up and down her thigh, from her hip to her knee.
“Why are you with Addison? I gathered from earlier, you don’t like her much,” she asks, breaking the comfortable silence we’ve been in for the last few minutes.
I jerk my jaw from side to side. “Even if I did like her, I would have reacted the same. But you’re right. I can’t stand the bitch. Haven’t for quite a few years now.”