Fling in Paris Page 11

  “It was never supposed to be about love!” she cried, gripping his forearms with her slender fingers as she tried to dislodge his grip. “I told you that! It was just sex!”

  “Just sex, was that it?” Roberto growled, then surprised them both by crushing Sherry’s body against his. “If that’s all you want from me, then that’s exactly what you’ll get.”

  Before Sherry could protest he was kissing her, ruthlessly invading her mouth with his tongue. His left hand fisted in her hair while the fingers of his right hand dug sharply into her hip. She should have been fighting him, squirming and kicking. Instead she was dragging him closer, her fingers working at the buttons of his starched shirt as her tongue tangled with his own. Lust destroyed her, wiping away every single thought until the need to have his cock inside her was all that mattered.

  Underwear and clothing flew every which way as they frantically tore one another’s garments off, and soon they were on the floor and he was pushing his thick, hard length into her. She moaned a sound that was both pleasure and pain, and tried to wrap her legs around his waist. He kept his hands firmly clamped on her hips, pushing them down, preventing her from having control.

  Roberto fucked her hard, lust and rage riding him like a cowboy trying to break a particularly bad-tempered stallion. He’d wanted to wrap his fingers around her neck nearly as badly as he wanted to fuck her, but in the end his lust had won out—something he couldn’t understand. He rarely ever fucked women who pissed him off; he’d never been a masochist, nor had he ever prolonged an emotionally unhealthy relationship.

  And yet she was still beautiful to him, sprawled naked on the Tunisian rug, her dark curls fanning out and contrasting nicely with the bold colors. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, but her cheeks were flushed with color, her wonderfully plump lips parted as she cried out in pleasure. A part of him wanted to pull out, shoot his seed all over her, then get up and walk away. He damn well should, after everything she’d done to him. Why should he give a damn about her pleasure?

  In the end, he couldn’t make himself do it—he told himself it was because her pussy felt too damn good around his cock. Reaching down between them, he stroked her clit with the pad of his thumb, driving her wild as he continued to thrust with a single-minded intensity. She exploded, her pussy clenching around his cock as she convulsed, and a choked cry escaped his lips as he went over the edge with her.

  Sherry’s eyes remained tightly shut, but she couldn’t stop the tears from leaking out as she felt Roberto’s warm body leave her. Opening her eyes, she watched as he pulled on his clothes. She knew she should get up, at least put on a robe, but her body was paralyzed.

  Shrugging on his suit jacket, he turned his now cold-eyed stare at her. Now she did move—to grab a blanket off the couch, simply because she couldn’t stand to see him looking so dispassionately upon her naked body. She felt as though she’d been judged and found sorely lacking, despite the fact that just moments ago he’d shot his seed inside her.

  “Goodbye, Mrs. Williams,” he said after a long, tense moment, then turned on his heel and walked out the door.

  ****

  Sherry slowly placed the receiver back on the cradle, her heart heavier than an anvil. For the past few weeks she had gone back and forth about this decision, but she had talked to the HR Representative and it was official—there would be no going back. And why would she want to? Her life in Paris had become a walking nightmare. There was no reason to stay. She’d already talked to Marie, who had, in the end, supported her decision.

  Roberto and Sherry hadn’t spoken in weeks—he’d given her a civil nod whenever they’d passed in the hallway, and that was about it. She noticed that the stack of paperwork she sifted through daily had nearly tripled, and that her reports were coming back these days with a ton of nitpicky corrections that were bordering on childish in nature, but she didn’t have the guts to go and confront Roberto about it—hell, she could barely look him in the eye anymore.

  Unfortunately, she could no longer avoid him. She was going to have to see him today.

  Taking a moment, she pulled out her compact and brushed up her make-up and hair—she couldn’t face Roberto looking anything less than her best, even if he was just her boss now. She dabbed a bit more concealer on the shadows circling beneath her eyes, then gathered up her briefcase and headed up to Roberto’s section of the building.

  There was no sense in putting it off now that things were decided.

  As she approached his office, Sherry heard a throaty, feminine laugh, and turned the corner to see Simone breezing out of Roberto’s office. A sly smile curved the model’s lips as she caught sight of Sherry approaching, and an unreasonable hatred bubbled up inside Sherry’s heart.

  “So nice to see you again,” Simone purred as she sauntered past, and Sherry resisted the urge to grab the bitch by her perfect red hair and plant a shiner on that million-dollar face. After all, it wasn’t as though she had a claim to Roberto anymore—she’d forfeited that weeks ago.

  Sucking in a breath, she approached Monique, who quickly assumed a bright, professional smile—though not fast enough to hide the sympathy Sherry caught in her eyes. That was the other reason Sherry avoided coming up here these past few weeks—she knew that Monique thought Roberto had jilted her and gone back into Simone’s waiting arms, and in her eyes Sherry was the victim. While she couldn’t bring herself to tell Monique the truth, Sherry knew damn well she didn’t deserve the secretary’s sympathy. It was she who had brought their relationship to an end.

  “Is Mr. Zanetto available? I have something urgent I need to speak to him about.”

  “Certainly.”

  Roberto looked up as Sherry entered his office, careful to keep his expression cool as he studied her. She looked professional as ever in her black blazer, pencil skirt and platform pumps that made her luscious legs stretch for miles. He remembered how those legs wrapped around his hips, his shoulders; how her thighs had clamped around his skull as he’d eaten her sweet, hot pussy on the kitchen counter of his flat.

  As she folded that trim, curvy body into his visitor’s chair, he shoved the thoughts from his mind even as his slacks started tenting—he was dating Simone again, and so it was inappropriate for him to be lusting after Sherry.

  “What can I do for you today, Mrs. Williams?”

  She reached into her briefcase, pulled out a piece of paper, and slid it across his desk. “I’m handing in my two-week notice today, sir.”

  Sir. He scanned the letter quickly, absorbing the contents as the word echoed in his mind. She’d never called him ‘sir’ before, and for some reason it bothered him.

  “I see you’ve already made the arrangements with HR. I trust they’ll be sending a replacement?” He tucked the letter into the document organizer on his desk, then folded his hands neatly.

  “I have.” The slender column of her throat bobbed slightly as she swallowed, and he noticed that she’d begun twisting her fingers. He shook off the urge to reach across the desk and comfort her—she’d brought this upon herself and they both knew it. “I’m willing to spend a few days orienting her before I leave.”

  “That would be appreciated.” He paused, unsure if he should leave it at that, or if he should say something more. “It was… good of you to come in and spend as much time as you have training the staff. They’ve improved greatly.”

  An awkward silence fell as she simply stared, and Roberto knew that the gulf, filled with all the unsaid things between them, was too great for him to bridge at this time. He should be glad that she had made the decision to leave. It wasn’t possible for them to continue an amicable or professional relationship without strain. Far better for her to have someone else step in so that she could return to her husband.

  His hands fisted, and he slid them under the table before Sherry noticed. He wasn’t about to let Sherry think he was actually upset about this.

  “Thank you, Mr. Zanetto,” she finally said. “I’ll make su
re that everything is in order.”

  She stood, smoothed her skirt down those curvy hips, and walked out of his life.

  Chapter 13

  “When did you first feel that your marriage was falling apart?”

  Sherry and Nick exchanged uneasy looks. They were seated together on the low-backed, leather couch in the therapist’s office, designed to make the patient feel comfortable and at ease, as were the muted colors in the room. Unfortunately, the interior design was having no effect on Sherry’s mood. She simply didn’t feel comfortable being this close to Nick, and she sure as hell wasn’t feeling any better about these counseling sessions than she did when they’d first started them.

  “I’d say it was back in March,” Nick spoke up first.

  Sherry nodded. “Nick’s hours started increasing a lot then, and we didn’t spend much time with each other.”

  The therapist pushed back a lock of silver hair from her face, adjusted her square glasses, then scribbled something in her notebook. “I imagine that you didn’t see a lot of each other.”

  Sherry contained a sigh—that was the understatement of the year. By the time April rolled around, the only time she saw Nick was when he woke her up climbing into bed at all hours of the morning, and sometimes during breakfast. But she’d later learned that it wasn’t just the crushing hospital shifts keeping him from her bed and her life.

  “No, we didn’t.” Nick cleared his throat. “I spent a lot of time at work, which was partially how this whole thing started. I was spending so much more time with Nancy, my assistant nurse, and Sherry and I became so disconnected that when she…” he stopped and shook his head. “We started an affair.”

  Sherry opened her mouth, then closed it again before she said something very uncomplimentary. “You’re making yourself out to be a victim of circumstance, Nick,” she said tightly. “You know very well that you were fully responsible for instigating that affair.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” Nick snapped. “I still feel guilty about it.”

  “Now, now,” the therapist waved them down with a hand. “Let’s not fight about it. Sherry did you or Nick ever do anything to try and spice up your relationship?”

  “I frequently tried to set up dates, or put together candlelight dinners at home,” Sherry told her. “But Nick never did seem to be able to make any of them.”

  “That’s because I was wor…” he paused and glanced at the therapist, who was watching him with raised brows. Sherry held back a smirk—it seemed that even now, with the truth out in the open, he still wanted to fall back on that old lie. Unless there was something else he hadn’t disclosed? Sherry frowned.

  Nick cleared his throat and tried again. “Okay, sometimes I was working. And other times… I was with Nancy.”

  Sherry sighed. “You don’t have to make it sound like it’s a big revelation, Nick. I already know.”

  “Just how long was your relationship ongoing with Nancy?” the therapist asked smoothly before Nick could say anything. Sherry watched as his expression morphed instantly from ire to guilt. So there was something he was holding back from her.

  “Umm…” he swallowed nervously. “Since ten days ago.”

  The therapist blinked. “So you’ve only recently broken off your relationship with this woman, even though both you and Sherry made the decision to repair your marriage last month?”

  “It’s alright, Nick,” Sherry said past the dull slice of pain in her chest. “I won’t blame you for that.” How could she, when at the same time she’d been indulging in a torrid, passionate affair of her own? It would be hypocritical of her to condemn him for it, even if her mind was screaming that she should walk away, that if he could cheat on her right up until the very last minute, there was no way he could be fully committed to this relationship.

  The therapist’s eyebrows rose again. “That’s a very generous and mature thing to say, Mrs. Williams.”

  Sherry forced a smile. “I try.”

  Sherry slapped the alarm clock almost the same time it started going off, then rolled over, her arm searching for Nick. When her fingers touched only cold, wrinkled sheets, she couldn’t even muster up the energy to be surprised. And why should she? Despite his assurances that he loved her, that he wanted to work things out, his lifestyle hadn’t changed one bit. He still worked long hours at the hospital, and barely made time to see her.

  In the month she’d spent back home with him, they’d attempted to have sex once. It had been disastrous. Nick’s attempts to pleasure her were halfhearted, and wherever his fingers touched she had gone cold. It never used to be like this—once upon a time Nick had been able to excite her with just a whispered word in her ear, or the slide of a finger down her arm. But now she only thought of Roberto when he touched her.

  It didn’t help that the first time she’d done a really thorough cleaning of the place, she’d found several thongs and other feminine items that definitely didn’t belong to her.

  Tossing back the covers, she rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, determined that today was going to be different. It has to be different, she thought as the hot spray hit her face, slapping her awake. Today is our anniversary, after all.

  After going through her normal morning rituals, she spent the morning cleaning their apartment. Afterwards she rushed out to the market to buy wine and ingredients for tonight’s dinner. They hadn’t set any reservations since Nick was coming home late, but she was going to do something special for tonight’s dinner anyway.

  She was nearly finished prepping the salmon when the phone rang. Checking the caller ID, she saw it was Nick.

  “Hey baby. Happy Anniversary.”

  “Hi.” Nick sounded somewhat distracted. “Happy Anniversary to you too. I’m just calling to let you know that they asked me to take another shift, so I won’t be home until early tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh.” Sherry’s heart sank. “Didn’t you tell them it was our anniversary?” She’d asked her boss for this day off weeks ago—why hadn’t she made sure he’d done the same? Why had she expected him to remember?

  “Of course I did,” Nick snapped, then paused as if he’d realized how rude he was being. “I’m sorry honey, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. But you know how hospitals can be. Saving lives always takes precedence over anything else.”

  “I know.” Sherry sighed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She stood there for a few moments after she’d hung up the phone, wondering if she should just cook the salmon and eat it all herself, or if she should save it for tomorrow and they could try again. Why was it that whenever she tried to do something nice for him, something always came up? In the past it had been the cheating, but they were in marriage counseling now, and he had promised to turn a new leaf over.

  Roberto had always made time for her. He’d gone out of his way to set up dates, to take her out to places even when she had no intention of going. The man refused to take no for an answer, and instead of letting her walk away he’s simply found ways around her barriers.

  An epiphany struck her then, and she grinned. That was just it! If she wanted to spend time with Nick, she was going to have to dictate the terms herself, just like Roberto did. She was going to have to go to him.

  ****

  Sherry walked into St. Michael’s hospital, humming a cheery tune and cradling a wrapped bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon in her arm. Boarding the elevator, she sent a smile and a wave to the receptionist on duty before heading to the Maternity Ward.

  Stepping out of the elevator, she took a moment to look around. Nothing had changed. The walls were still pale pink, the nurses and doctors were still bustling around importantly, and the cries of newborns still filled the air. She followed those sounds to the infant care section, and pressed her hands to the glass as she watched the babies in their cradles.

  A little boy locked his bright green eyes with hers, and she was forcibly reminded of Roberto—the child’s eyes were not on
ly the same color, but they held a similar intensity. Shaking her head, she moved on to the reception desk.

  “Hello.” Sherry smiled as she placed the bottle of wine on the table. “I’m here to see my husband, Nick Williams. Is he with a patient right now?”

  “Uh… umm… no!” The nurse looked around frantically, and Sherry frowned at the hint of panic in the woman’s eyes. “He should be around somewhere, why don’t I get him…” she trailed off, her eyes fixed on something beyond Sherry’s shoulder.

  Curious, Sherry turned around, and then realized the cause of the nurse’s behavior as she watched Nick and Nancy walk around the corner, hand in hand. Their uniforms were slightly disheveled, and Nancy’s normally pale cheeks were rosy with color, her eyes heavy with satisfaction. Sherry’s fingers curled tightly around the neck of the bottle of wine—she could practically smell the sex on them.

  She opened her mouth, then shut it. Having no words to say, she quickly turned on her heel and walked out before they could see her.

  God, she was such a fool.

  ****

  “Where are you going?”

  Sherry turned to see Nick standing in the doorway of their bedroom. He was still dressed in his hospital scrubs, which told Sherry that he must have just arrived home. He’d been gone all day again today, and she’d used the alone time to get her affairs in order.

  “I’m going to the OS International party,” she told him, turning back to the mirror so she could finish fastening the obsidian choker around her neck that matched the earrings swinging at her lobes. She was wearing her black halter-top dress, unable to bring herself to wear any color tonight.