Read Online Suite 269 by Christine Zolendz - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christine Zolendz
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been hurt enough.
I slid out my phone and snapped a picture of her. Creepiest thing I ever did. She still had her shirt on, so it wasn't that creepy. Unfortunately, the blankets covered everything else. I just wanted her image, something to stare at to remind me of her when this situation was all over, when she marries the loser.
I walked out of her apartment with the hardest dick ever erected; even my driver looked at me weird. Made me feel closer to God.
I barely remember the drive home or crashing into bed, alone.
Evan woke me up the next afternoon with a phone call and invite for a late lunch. Grumbling and whining about some problem, I said I'd meet up with him at our regular lunch place, just to shut him up. I really didn't have time for his stupid nonsense, but I needed to get out anyway. I needed to clear my head of the mess it was in.
Of course, he was late. I sat down in a booth and ordered a beer. Last week, the only problem in my head was this magazine and keeping it afloat for the old man. Now, within just a few days, my head was spinning thinking about a pair of underwear that was flung at me by the sexiest woman I'd ever met. She was brilliant, funny, and sexy as sin, and her panties were burning holes into my fingertips as I toyed with the lace of them in my pocket.
I barely noticed when Evan slid into the booth across from me. Yeah, too busy running my thumb across the silk material in my pocket, trying desperately not to take them out and smell them again.
"I do not understand women at all. At all ," Evan grunted as he slid into the booth across from me. "They are like another species or something. The things they can get men to do..."
"Uh huh," I mumbled, not listening to a word he said.
I wondered if she'd really go through with the wedding. She'd never be able to trust him again. Honestly, I can think of very few things in life that are more dishonorable and disgusting to me than cheating on someone that loves you. Be a man, leave if you want to, but don't pull tricks behind her back. Women aren't stupid. Eventually, the truth will come out; it always does.
"Are you even listening to me?" Evan reached across the table and nudged my arm, making me almost spill my beer.
"Humph," I mumbled back, mushing his hands away from my beer.
My lack of listening etiquette had no effect on him. His voice raised and he leaned forward, seeming to speak urgently and quite animated with his hands. I couldn't have given a damn about what he was saying. Wasn't happening. My brain had trouble concentrating on anything but Kevin Trager and how much of a loser he was. He wasn't good enough for Lexa. He was the kind of little boy who would keep on doing things behind her back because he thought he could get away with them. Over and over again. Someone who liked to play dress-up in his daddy's business suits and still held the mentality of a child. Lexa deserved a real man.
Evan gulped down his drink and slammed it down on the table so loudly I feared it would break. "Here she comes," he hissed.
"Huh? Who?" I asked, stumbling blindly back into reality.
"Hello, James. Evan."
My gut twisted with the sound of that voice. Sophia emerged from somewhere behind me in tall, uncomfortable looking heels and a skimpy black dress. I watched silently as she made a theatrical effort to pull a chair over to our table, bending down in front of me so my eyes could see nothing but her ass ets.
"I don't recall inviting you to sit with us," I said with very little emotion.
"So, you didn't listen to a thing I just said to you, did you?" Evan questioned.
"Nope." I drained my beer and belched like a toddler in the direction of Sophia's face. "Evan, I'll see you at work," I said, gathering my things.
"Wait, James, please," Sophia begged.
"Shouldn't you be screwing Trager?"
"What the hell do you care if I was screwing him? You told me no strings, right? Jealous? I told you this before; you're the one who didn't want to be exclusive.
I slid out my phone and snapped a picture of her. Creepiest thing I ever did. She still had her shirt on, so it wasn't that creepy. Unfortunately, the blankets covered everything else. I just wanted her image, something to stare at to remind me of her when this situation was all over, when she marries the loser.
I walked out of her apartment with the hardest dick ever erected; even my driver looked at me weird. Made me feel closer to God.
I barely remember the drive home or crashing into bed, alone.
Evan woke me up the next afternoon with a phone call and invite for a late lunch. Grumbling and whining about some problem, I said I'd meet up with him at our regular lunch place, just to shut him up. I really didn't have time for his stupid nonsense, but I needed to get out anyway. I needed to clear my head of the mess it was in.
Of course, he was late. I sat down in a booth and ordered a beer. Last week, the only problem in my head was this magazine and keeping it afloat for the old man. Now, within just a few days, my head was spinning thinking about a pair of underwear that was flung at me by the sexiest woman I'd ever met. She was brilliant, funny, and sexy as sin, and her panties were burning holes into my fingertips as I toyed with the lace of them in my pocket.
I barely noticed when Evan slid into the booth across from me. Yeah, too busy running my thumb across the silk material in my pocket, trying desperately not to take them out and smell them again.
"I do not understand women at all. At all ," Evan grunted as he slid into the booth across from me. "They are like another species or something. The things they can get men to do..."
"Uh huh," I mumbled, not listening to a word he said.
I wondered if she'd really go through with the wedding. She'd never be able to trust him again. Honestly, I can think of very few things in life that are more dishonorable and disgusting to me than cheating on someone that loves you. Be a man, leave if you want to, but don't pull tricks behind her back. Women aren't stupid. Eventually, the truth will come out; it always does.
"Are you even listening to me?" Evan reached across the table and nudged my arm, making me almost spill my beer.
"Humph," I mumbled back, mushing his hands away from my beer.
My lack of listening etiquette had no effect on him. His voice raised and he leaned forward, seeming to speak urgently and quite animated with his hands. I couldn't have given a damn about what he was saying. Wasn't happening. My brain had trouble concentrating on anything but Kevin Trager and how much of a loser he was. He wasn't good enough for Lexa. He was the kind of little boy who would keep on doing things behind her back because he thought he could get away with them. Over and over again. Someone who liked to play dress-up in his daddy's business suits and still held the mentality of a child. Lexa deserved a real man.
Evan gulped down his drink and slammed it down on the table so loudly I feared it would break. "Here she comes," he hissed.
"Huh? Who?" I asked, stumbling blindly back into reality.
"Hello, James. Evan."
My gut twisted with the sound of that voice. Sophia emerged from somewhere behind me in tall, uncomfortable looking heels and a skimpy black dress. I watched silently as she made a theatrical effort to pull a chair over to our table, bending down in front of me so my eyes could see nothing but her ass ets.
"I don't recall inviting you to sit with us," I said with very little emotion.
"So, you didn't listen to a thing I just said to you, did you?" Evan questioned.
"Nope." I drained my beer and belched like a toddler in the direction of Sophia's face. "Evan, I'll see you at work," I said, gathering my things.
"Wait, James, please," Sophia begged.
"Shouldn't you be screwing Trager?"
"What the hell do you care if I was screwing him? You told me no strings, right? Jealous? I told you this before; you're the one who didn't want to be exclusive.
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