24
Marcus
I spend the rest of Friday evening trying to convince myself that what happened was for the best, that I’m glad Emma pulled the plug on this insanity before it went any further. Granted, it would’ve been nice to f**k her and relieve the tension that’s taken hold of me from the moment I laid eyes on her, but ultimately, this couldn’t have gone anywhere.
Emmeline—or another woman like her—is what I need, and Emma would’ve just been a distraction. Had already been a distraction, in fact, messing with my focus at work and elsewhere.
In spite of that perfectly rational reasoning, I barely sleep Friday night, feeling tense and restless despite two cold showers and an encounter with my fist. Each time I close my eyes, I see Emma in her lacy underwear, and my body burns with the need
