I walk into my office to find Celeste already sitting behind her desk, her beautiful face irritating me instantly. She looks up and throws me a sugary sweet smile that makes my heart skip a beat despite its fake nature. That’s three days in a row she’s beaten me to the office.
She’s always still fast asleep when I slip out of bed, but in the time it takes me to either swim some laps or go to the gym, she gets ready and heads to the office without me. I glare at her as I walk to my desk, my steps heavier than necessary.
Living with her has been odd. Each time we’re in the same room, the energy is charged with mutual hatred and unwanted desire that’s so fucking hard to take. I slump into my seat, feeling completely worn out. I just want a little peace and quiet for at least a few hours a day, and I can’t have that around her. Something inevitably happens, and she’ll throw me a barbed insult or a veiled accusation that reopens old wounds. When I look at her, I just miss the woman that used to be mine.
“Mr. Windsor?”
I glance up to find Jill walking into my office, one of our senior interior designers. I smile at her politely and raise a brow.
“You urgently requested the final design plans for the new French restaurant on the ground floor of The Lacara,” she says, walking around my desk instead of standing in front of it. She places her tablet down and leans in, standing entirely too close.
I instantly look up at my wife, who’s studying us with an expression that can only be described as jealous. It’s surprisingly gratifying to see something other than hatred in her eyes. I smile at her politely, knowing how much she hates it when I do that, and turn back to Jill, who’s angling her body to give me the best view of her cleavage. Nothing annoys me more than unprofessional behavior in my office, but this time, I let it slide. I may not want to argue with Celeste, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy pissing her off.
“These are the two concepts you approved last time,” she says, flicking through the 3D images on her tablet. “Which of the two would you like me to refine and finalize? I can take aspects from both and create something new too.”
Her arm brushes against mine, and Celeste rises to her feet, startling Jill, who clearly hadn’t noticed her hidden away behind her screen. “Let me see that,” she says, marching over.
I bite back a smile when she moves between us and pushes against my chair to move me, making space for herself. “Oh,” Jill says, pressing her tablet to her chest to hide it from Celeste. “These are highly confidential.”
My wife’s expression becomes beautifully stormy, and I watch her with barely suppressed delight. She’s in another one of those tight pencil skirts of hers today, a black one this time, and I’m certain she does it to torment me. There’s no way she doesn’t realize how fucking good her ass looks in those damned skirts. Every time my attention wanders, I think of the way she’d moan for me if I bent her over my desk, and it’s driving me wild.
“We haven’t met,” Celeste says, straightening her spine. “I’m Celeste Windsor, Zane’s wife.”
Celeste Windsor. Fuck. It sounds so good, especially in that sweet voice of hers. I thought she’d fight me, would refuse to take my name, but she signed the paperwork without any hesitation. It made me wonder if a small part of her also still wanted everything we once dreamed of.
This is the problem with her, with us. So long as I keep my distance, it’s easy to remember all the reasons I hate her. But when she’s standing so close to me, all I can think about is how much I still want her and how beautiful she is.
“Oh,” Jill says, visibly flustered. “I… I see… I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you, Mrs. Windsor.”
Celeste nods, seemingly placated. Fucking adorable. I smirk as I place my hand around my wife’s waist and pull her onto my lap. She gasps, and I wrap my arm around her, securing her against me. Bad move on my part, because it just makes that sexy round ass of hers press up against my cock, and in ten seconds, she’ll find out just how irresistible I find her skirts. “Sit,” I murmur, my tone not quite as unaffected as I’d have liked it to be. “There’s quite a lot to go over. You don’t want to be standing in those heels of yours the whole time.”
Celeste squirms, her chest rising and falling a little faster, and I grin as I place one hand on her stomach and the other on her thigh, just below the hem of her skirt. Jill looks shell-shocked and struggles to keep her composure, but truly, she only has herself to blame. If she hadn’t tried to flirt with me in the first place, she wouldn’t have found herself in this situation. What’s a man to do when his wife gets jealous? I have to reassure her, don’t I? I might not like Celeste very much right now, but I still can’t help myself.
I rest my chin on my wife’s shoulder and stare down at the tablet. “The two concepts are vastly different, but I like both.”
Celeste nods and flicks through the images, zooming in on different aspects as she shares her thoughts with me. I’d forgotten how in sync we are. “The Lacara is too modern of a hotel to pull off concept one,” she murmurs, lost in thought. “But I agree it suits the restaurant’s vibe. How about a fusion interior?”
Jill nods and begins to take notes, her gaze roaming over my face every few seconds, like she can’t believe I’m letting Celeste call the shots. In my quest to forget her, I became more of a workaholic than I’d have liked. Work was the only place where I still felt in control, yet somehow, giving that control up to my wife isn’t hard at all. “I like those lighting fixtures,” I murmur.
Celeste turns her head, her lips brushing against my cheek, and I feel the way her body tenses. My cock twitches, and she squeezes her thighs, tormenting me. “The ones in concept two, right?” she says, before turning back to the tablet.
I smile to myself and tilt my face a little to press my nose to her neck, loving her scent. It’s a mixture these days — no longer just honey and vanilla. I can smell my custom blended body wash on her now, and it’s got me curious. I’ve seen the dozens of little bottles that appeared in my bathroom, yet she’s using my body wash. There’s something infinitely sexy about it, and I draw a shaky breath as I imagine her in my shower, thinking of me as she envelops herself in my signature scent. I grip her thigh tightly, my cock throbbing as the images assault me, stealing away all my attention. She squeezes her legs together, and fuck, I’m so tempted to rock back and forth, to create a little more friction.
“Zane?” she breathes, and I glance at her, enjoying the way her cheeks are perfectly rosy. I just know that if I slip my fingers between her legs right now, I’ll find her wet for me. Knowing I want her desperately always turned her on, and I doubt that’s changed. “What do you think of that? I like this combination, but you’ll need to approve it too.”
I nod as she begins to run me through all the various aspects she chose from each design. “You can have anything you want,” I cut her off.
She tilts her head to look at me and smiles. “Anything?” I nod, my breathing labored. “Thank you, Zane,” she says before pressing a kiss to my cheek, startling me. The gesture is so sweet it completely disarms me, reminding me of the way she used to smile up at me and kiss my face randomly as we both worked at night, distracting me until I was buried deep inside her on my sofa.
“I’m excited about this,” she tells Jill, who’s staring at me in disbelief. I suppose it’s odd to see me like this — completely at my wife’s mercy, when I’ve always been cutthroat and professional.
She nods politely and walks out of our office with a surprised but pleasant expression, like she’s happy with the progress she so quickly made with her designs, thanks to Celeste. The door falls closed, and Celeste tenses.
“What was that?” she asks, trying to push off me.
I hold her tighter and slide my hand up her thigh, underneath her skirt. “Indeed. What was that, Celeste?” I ask, my fingertips riding up slowly. She presses her legs together, a soft whimper on her lips. “You were jealous, weren’t you?”
She gasps, a denial no doubt on the tip of her tongue. I steal it away by trailing my fingers over her soaking silky underwear. She moans when I push the fabric aside and drag my index finger right up to her clit. “No,” she whimpers. “I wasn’t… wasn’t jealous.”
I chuckle and lean in, my teeth gazing her earlobe. “Liar,” I whisper, before pinching her clit softly, teasingly. She’s so fucking slippery, and fuck, I wish I could just bury my face between her legs right now. I’m so close to begging for it.
Celeste grips the edge of my desk and rises to her feet, wrenching herself away from me. I frown in confusion, certain she wanted this as much as I do. She straightens her skirt and takes a few steps away, her cheeks flushed beautifully.
“Is that how it started, Zane?” she asks, her eyes clearing of every last trace of lust. “With Lily. While you spent your evenings with me… were your days like this?”
My eyes widen, my shield dropping back into place as I grab my handkerchief from my suit pocket and wipe my fingers. I look up at her once I’ve regained my composure, my gaze level. “Does my answer even matter?”
