Raul
Just like the night before, I wake up at dawn with a raging hard-on.
While she sleeps, Kate tends to hook her leg around mine. This time I wake up to her lying almost on top of me, one leg between mine. I can only imagine how many times she's rubbed that leg against my cock since we fell asleep.
I lie very still, eyes closed, and try to think of anything but fucking my wife.
Except ... every breath I take fills my senses with the soft scent of her hair, each rise of my chest makes me even more aware of breasts pressed against it. Disgusted with myself, I curl my arm over her shoulders to gently move her off me.
Instead, I find myself stroking her hair ... her back ... the arm she has slung over my waist. She makes a sound of contentment, and it sounds almost like a purr.
Madre de Dios, help me.
I should go back to sleep. Sleep will make me forget the stiffness of my cock, the fire sparkling in my blood. The scent of her hair. The way her body fits so perfectly against mine.
Closing my eyes again, I wait for sleep. It never comes. After five minutes, I give up and open my eyes. Kate hasn't moved. I don't want to disturb her but I need to get her off me. If her leg rubs against my erection one more time, I'm going to lose it.
I try to ease her off me as gently as I can, trying to ignore how soft her skin feels as she slides down my side. Just before I'm home free, her eyelids flutter open.
I freeze.
"Raul?"
I'm holding my breath, hoping the shadows hide from her what's going on lower down my body. "I'm... uh... I need to go to the bathroom," I say.
She yawns as she rolls completely off me. "Okay."
I pull the duvet up over her shoulders before rising off the bed. Instead of going to the en suite, I head to the door. A glance back tells me she's fallen back to sleep and won't notice if I leave. I leave my robe where it's draped over a chair and slip out of the room without making a sound.
It's too cold for me to be walking down the hall to my bedroom in nothing but my pajamas but cold is good. It's what I need right now.
My bedroom — our bedroom— greets me with an almost hostile silence. Its emptiness feels like a testimony of my failure as a husband. I sit behind my desk and pick up my phone from the charging stand.
I'm going to meet with Nico after work today and tell him everything. I just wanted to let you know in case you want to speak to him first.
After sending the message, I drop the phone on the desk. It's four a.m. and I'm not expecting a reply right away. Still, I sit there staring at it for a minute. It lights up with a message. A reply.
Everything?
Yes, everything. You and me. The past. Why you're with him. I'm sorry but I need to come clean to him and beg his forgiveness. I think you do too.
Three minutes pass before she replies.
You're probably right.
My chest feels a little lighter. Yes, Yandra may have acted with not the best intentions toward me, but it wasn't her fault. Coming clean to Nico meant I'll have to expose her own wrongdoings. It can't be helped but it doesn't mean it's fair. Not to her. But if she's all right with it, it relieves me of some of the guilt.
So you'll speak to him? I feel it's better if you do it first. But it's all right if you don't want to.
I'll talk to him in the morning.
While I ponder on what to say next, she texts me again.
Thank you. And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry too.
I return my phone on the charging stand but I don't get up. Leaning back in my seat, I contemplate not going back to bed. Back to Kate. My cock was still stiff. I go back there, I won't be able to go back to sleep anyway. Maybe I should just get ready for work, head to the office early.
The practical thing to do was to just rub one out so I could go back to bed with my wife. Maybe then I could get a couple more hours' sleep.
I close my eyes, grimacing inwardly. This is pathetic. I'm a grown man — a married man —who shared a bed with his wife. If my empty bedroom was a testimony of how much I'd failed as a husband, then masturbating alone in the shower was — what? An even more shameful reminder of how much I'd screwed up. It had, in fact, taken a man being murdered at a party for Kate to even invite me to sleep beside her because either she needed comfort or she thought I did.
I could sit here and wait for my erection to pass. But then after I'll just be going back to Kate. Kate who will innocently wrap her arms and her warm body around me again and make me feel things I don't — shouldn't — want. Not until things are right between us again. Not until I make them right.
For now, I'll have to be content with being able to keep Kate company at night. She's been through an ordeal and while she would never say it, maybe she just wants someone familiar to be there to ward off any nightmares. Someone who won't make demands of her she doesn't want to give.
Dios mio, I'm talking about myself like I was a puppy. An emotional support animal. But then maybe I deserve that.
Making a decision, I rise and make my way to the shower.
***
"What do you mean, there's no CCTV?" I snap. I take a deep breath then, in a more calm tone, I ask, "I thought you said you could get a copy?"
Nova's voice over the phone is cool and unruffled, even after my brief outburst. "There is no copy to get, Mr. Marin. The CCTV of the country club building for that evening has been lost. Not even the police have it."
I frown, digesting what she just said. "That's unusual isn't it?"
"Yes. And highly suspicious."
"So whoever ... killed Saldana also made the CCTV recordings of that night disappear."
"It's a possibility, yes. From what I understand, the security personnel assigned to monitor the security videos was called to help when Mr. Saldana had been found because all the other security persons were posted out front and around the ballroom. When he returned to his station, the recordings were gone."
Massaging my temples with my thumb and middle finger, I mutter a curse. "So this is a dead end."
"As far as finding clues in the CCTV footage, yes. But I'm running background checks on everyone at the party who had any business or intimate personal dealings with Mr. Saldana. And of course, the police may have already turned something up that we're not aware of."
"Right." I pause. "Intimate personal dealings?"
"A mistress. Or ex-mistress."
I raise my eyebrows. I have to admit, that had never occurred to me. Personally, I doubted he had one. His wife was not one to suffer infidelity and she owned the lion's share of their family wealth. Saldana wasn't stupid, at least not so stupid as to jeopardize his relationship with his wife.
But then again, historically men have done even more foolish things for sex. And love.
"He came to the party with his nephew," I say. "His wife was in Switzerland."
I hear a knock on my door a beat before it opens. Only Marcus never bothers with asking my assistant to let him in before waltzing into my office. I wave him in.
"And you don't recall anything unpleasant between him and any of the other guests?" Nova says.
I honestly can't recall any encounter I've had with the man that wasn't unpleasant. But I don't think that's what Nova means. "No, I don't."
"I'll let you know if something turns up."
I barely set my phone down when Marcus asks me, "What's going on with you?"
"A lot," I say, dropping to my chair with a frustrated sigh. "Have you not been paying attention?"
"You've been in a mood, Raul. People are worried."
I stare at him. "A mood."
"You've been ... a little snappish with people. They're concerned."
"Fuck." I feel the beginnings of a headache come on. "I didn't make anyone cry have I?"
"No, they're fine. Well, they say they're fine. As I said, they're wondering if you're okay. You're normally pretty chill."
When Kate said I'd been cranky and sullen for weeks, I'd dismissed it as her way of convincing me to... Jesus Christ. "I'll be fine. The Saldana incident and having my family and friends questioned by the cops must have gotten to me. And we still haven't found out if anyone's been trying to steal our trade secrets."
"Raul, they said you've been like this for weeks." He hesitates. "Is everything all right with you and Kate?"
"We're fine." It's only a second later that I realize I've just snapped at him. Too late now. "Don't you have work to do? I already have a therapist."
He raises an eyebrow. "And when was the last time you've seen Dr. Jordan."
And am I supposed to tell my therapist? My wife of convenience won't have sex with me, so I'm cranky and snappish. And yes, she told me to get a mistress so I can leave her alone.
I hold up a hand in acquiescence. "All right. Things aren't great. But I'm fixing it now."
Marcus frowns. "You're getting a mistress?"
"What? Why does everybody think I should get a mistress?"
"Everyone?"
I avert my gaze. "Kate."
"Sorry."
"Do you think I should?"
"Excuse me?"
"Do you think I should have an affair?"
"That's..." He hesitates. "Are you considering it?"
"No." A thought occurs to me. It doesn't have to be a real affair. Maybe if Kate thought I had a mistress, she'll... reconsider? "Maybe," I add.
"Well, that's what you agreed upon, isn't it? I don't see the problem."
Of course he doesn't. "Yes, it was."
"Just think about it before you do anything rash, okay?" He gets up. "I have a meeting with my department in five minutes. Call me if you need anything."
I nod distractedly, my thoughts running in a million directions.
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