Bad Apple (Part 1) by Kristina Weaver

place stocked for the day.
    I moved in with Misha that same day without argument when he laid down the law and told me he refused to drive across the city to have sex with his own wife.
    I needed time, I told him that a million times, but the man is unstoppable when he wants something. I get it, though. He turns to me at least three times during the night and does me so hard, I can’t move a limb after. He also likes to snuggle.
    My family still hasn’t spoken to me and I miss having my three overprotective brothers at my back and my parents calling me twice a day, but I’m okay.
    I have Misha now. He’s insatiable and keeps me completely occupied whenever I’m burned out from work. He feeds me three times a day without fail whether I’m hungry or not, makes love to me whenever and wherever he can find a hard surface and privacy, and calls me so much that my friends tease me about overprotective megalomaniacs and their obsessive behavior.
    It’s all going so well that by the time I get into Delilah for the trek home, I’m feeling great and ready to make love to my man, with the lights on even!
    It’s still surreal to walk through the doors of his building, greet the concierge, and take his private elevator all the way up to the penthouse, but eh, a girl can deal, I think as I skip into the foyer with a smile.
    A smile that falls instantly when I come face to face with my husband kissing another woman. A woman I know. The woman who takes up almost his entire back and should be dead.
    My heart stops and then starts thumping weakly as I take it all in and gasp.
    I want to run. I should run. Instead I’m rooted to the spot and bloodless as he pulls away and whips his head up, his eyes meeting mine with shock.
    “Angel.”
     
    ~ To be continued... ~