He’s going to kill you. This is a mistake. You should just turn away and leave.

This was all good advice, but I didn’t take any of it.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“She’s leaving.”

With that, I stepped forward, gripping the back of his neck, pulling him down toward my lips. I expected him to fight me. To make me look like an idiot, but his lips brushed against mine and I couldn’t help but moan.

One of his hands went to the curves of my ass, and I gasped as he pulled me close. His cock was still soft, but the moment he had my body flush against his, I felt him start to harden.

Breaking the kiss, I had to keep in control. I was so bored. Holding his hand, I led him out to the dance floor, ignoring the redhead completely as I asked him to dance with me.

Here was the problem. I couldn’t dance.

I noticed the crowd parted for him.

No one got in his way. Did the world around him know who he was, or were the rumors enough to keep him safe?

With the music causing a heavy beat in the air, I paused on the dance floor, but I shouldn’t have panicked.

Slavik wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close.

I released a gasp as he kept one hand on my ass, and the other lay loose at his side, but I knew better. Slavik was ready for any kind of attack.

Neither of us spoke.

The music filled the silence as he took control. We danced together, and it was more like I humped him, but he didn’t let me go, and I liked being in his arms.

I wanted to know who the woman was. Why she felt she could touch my husband. I was pissed off. Slightly humiliated.

Had he come down to speak to one of his whores? Had I kept him from getting his release?

“Who was she?” I asked.

“No one.”

“She didn’t look like no one.”

We were having to scream.

He grabbed my hand, and even as I fought him, he won. Of course, he did.

We moved toward the door I came out of. He didn’t take me to his office, instead, he pressed me up against the wall.

“I told you to stay upstairs in your office.”

“You’re welcome. Or did I interrupt your foreplay with your whore?” I asked.

Jealousy was an ugly word. One I couldn’t stand.

I stared at him and he tutted.

“You didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Then who was she?” I asked.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“No, of course not. I’m the wife you’ve been saddled with. Let’s face it, you don’t want me. You’ve never wanted me. You’re probably getting your fix with all of the other women, right?” I needed to keep better control of my temper, but once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m supposed to live with you having a lover, a mistress, but the one guy who showed any interest in me at all, he had to die!”