I pulled away, climbing off his lap and then walking around his chair. His arms remained halfway in the air. He was dazed. Confused. Horny as hell.
He’d think about this for weeks, but he wouldn’t act. No, of course he wouldn’t. Why would he? He was a good man. A good husband. Devoted. Passionate. So extremely in love. Corey would never cheat on his wife . . . unless it was with the right woman. A woman he knew would keep all his dirty little secrets.
“Good night, Dr. Maxwell,” I murmured over my shoulder, and I smiled on my way back to my room, licking my bottom lip, savoring the taste of him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Of course I didn’t see Corey the next morning. And truth be told, I didn’t want to see him. At least not so soon.
Lola was nursing a hangover, so she had Georgia send me off with croissants and fresh jam. Georgia apologized for her as I walked out of the mansion.
As I made my way to my car, I noticed one of Corey’s was gone. It didn’t take a genius to know he’d avoid me for as long as he could, all the while letting thoughts of what happened by the pool consume him.
I would have to keep a distance from Lola for a few days too, so that he wouldn’t assume I was clinging to this fantasy. He’d wonder about me. Probably ask Lola about my whereabouts in a casual way once he noticed I wasn’t around as much. He would think I regretted it more than he did, which in turn would make him wonder why.
But he’d had a taste, Marriott, and he hadn’t put much effort into stopping it either. He would want more. It was just a matter of time.
* * *
I suppose at this point you’re wondering why I’m taking this revenge thing so far. Perhaps you were right when you said I wasn’t completely sane. Truly, after everything I’d done so far to get to where I was, I realized that I’m not sane, Marriott, and you know what? I’m cool with that.
At first, this was about ruining Lola’s life—and don’t get me wrong, it’s still about that—but, like I said, Corey Maxwell had some kind of pull on me. When I first laid eyes on that fine-as-hell man, I was instantly attracted to him. I pined for him. I had dreams about him in between hatching plans of taking down his wife. I wanted him so badly it made me burn inside.
So, I’d worked on a plan that would eventually lead him to me and make him want me just as badly as I wanted him.
I dated Xavier and thought I was in love with him back then, but Xavier was no good for me. He verbally and physically abused me. He promised me good times and joy but only delivered pain and anarchy. All we ever did was argue, and if we weren’t arguing, we were fighting. Still, I’d loved him somehow . . . until I didn’t, and I left him, getting thrust back into the system and fitting in with the bullshit stereotypes for young black girls like me.
And then there was a man like Corey, with eyes as brown as chocolate and a voice as smooth as silk. One look at him and I wanted him. Who wouldn’t want him? I knew for a fact Lola didn’t deserve him. He needed someone better—someone who would give him whatever he wanted, and in exchange, he would give me whatever I wanted.
He had the money; I had the body. It would always be an even exchange. If he took care of me, I’d take care of him. It was that simple. It was what every good man wanted, but women loved to make it harder. Women like Lola especially, because she knew her worth and knew she’d be fine without him, and that she didn’t have to fulfill his every need.
This motive of mine went much deeper than the troubles of my past at this point. I wanted more than to ruin Lola Maxwell’s life. I wanted her husband, and I wanted him to want me just as much, to the point he’d be willing to end his marriage for me. To the point he’d break her heart and leave her miserable and alone, just as I’d been.
I knew it was going to require a lot of work—I mean, that was sixteen years of marriage I had to break up—but things like this happened all the time, Marriott. Men would leave their wives as they got older and staler and would give all their money to the younger, prettier girls with the tighter pussies and fuller asses.
Corey was a man of need and hunger. If Lola wasn’t going to fulfill his appetite, it had to be me. I wanted to be his woman, and only his.