CHAPTER EIGHT
The Wife knows...
Ella was still on the floor, half-stripped, when Jayden's phone began to ring.
He did not stir.
The screen came on.
Lani.
Ella rolled up into a ball, her stomach twisted.
Jayden stared at the phone like it was about to blow. The three rings stopped. There
was stillness, but not a pleasant one. This was the calm before the storm.
"You think she'll come to you?" Ella panted.
"She doesn't know where I live," he told her. "I moved months ago."
"Hey, she knows about me."
Jayden nodded slowly. "So she's paying attention."
Ella got up, creating a makeshift shirt out of one of his. "This is crazy. Why do I feel
like I slept with a man who's trouble?"
Jayden edged closer to her, palms at her waist, voice almost a whisper. "Because
you did."
His bluntness should have intimidated her.
It didn't.
It excited her.
"I should leave," she breathed, air catching.
"I'll let you," he said, already under the shirt with his fingers. "But please stay."
She looked at him—this broken, secret, irresistible man—and knew it was insane,
foolish, habit-forming.
But she didn't get up.
Jayden kissed her again, more slowly, as if she was his final gasp of air. She kissed
him back in fire, in hunger, rubbing up against him like she was starving.
And perhaps she was.
He pushed her onto the couch, ripped the shirt off, kissed her neck, breasts, belly.
His fingers trailed down her body as if he owned her.
And perhaps he did.
She moved into his mouth when he went down on her, moaning his name, clutching
his hair, drowning in the beat of his tongue. He didn't let up until she was shaking.
Then he turned her over.
"Get on your knees," he breathed.
She complied.
He moved up behind her, slow and deep, filling her to the brim.
"Fuck, Ella," he groaned, his fingers in her hips, pounding harder.
She glanced back over her shoulder, rosy cheeks. "I want you to ruin me."
He already had.
They fucked like they were both desperate to incinerate the world. But it wasn't
disappearing.
Because when they finished—breathless, sweaty, on the ground again—Jayden picked up his phone.
There was a new message.
Just one picture.
Ella's face.
Taken from outside the apartment.
There was a message attached:
"She's beautiful. I can't wait to meet her."
Ella sat up, reading over his shoulder.
Her skin ran cold.
Jayden glared at the screen, jaw clenched.
"She's watching us," Ella breathed.
Jayden didn't answer.
But his next words were cold as ice:
"I need to make this go away. Before she does something we can't take back."