A Sinful Triangle

Ch.6-Enemies.

SAMARA'S POINT OF VIEW

“Monkey, wake up, breakfast is ready.” The smoky voice of Ares enters my ears and warms me up in more ways than one, and his gentle grip on my shoulder turns the warmth into flames.

“Nu-uh... cuddles...” I try my luck and blindly reach for his wrist, then pull him to me, and he chuckles softly.

“Breakfast will get cold. We’ll cuddle another time.” I whine and pull him harder, but he doesn’t budge.

“f**k breakfast... wanna cuddle.” I plead and try to pout, hoping that I’ll have it my way and feel his strong arms around me and his body heat--

“What about cuddling while eating?” My face broke into a smile, and he chuckles, then he stops my heart when his lips touch my forehead.

God, damn, Ares...

“I’ll be right back.” I hum, or moan, depends who you’re asking, and I open my eyes to see him.

He had a shower, his hair is damp, the leather pants he’s wearing are hugging his lower body in ways no pants should hug anyone, especially a s*x god like him, and the sleeves leather vest... biceps, tattoos... fuck... I’m wet.

I get to admire him some more as he comes back holding a big tray, which he places on his lap after he lays down next to me on the bed, -he probably carried me after I fell asleep-, and wraps one arm around my shoulders.

This is not new. We used to eat like this all the time. He puts both our breakfasts on one plate and feeds us.

I quickly crawl closer and look up at him, wondering just how gorgeous a man can be. How can someone’s lips be so arousing, how a beard can make me imagine things that I didn’t know I’m capable of imagining, how a pair of ice blue eyes can be so warm and intense--

“Open your mouth.” Just to put food in it? I would rather you put something else even thou I wouldn't really know what to do with it, but I would surely give my best and I would enjo--

“Mara, open your mouth.” Oh, f**k. I swallow hard and look down, hoping that he doesn’t see the blush on my face, and open my mouth.

I moan when the sweet piece of pancake settles on my tongue and reaches my tastebuds, and smile when I feel pieces of chocolate in them.

He makes the best pancakes I have ever eaten, and God only knows how much I missed them. How much I missed him...

“Still good?” He asks, and I nod while chewing, then look at how the fork reaches his lips and enters his mouth... fuck... Jesus, I would die to be that fork. Or pancake.

I open my mouth when my turn came, laughing when he pulled it back and ate it himself.

“Still a kid?” I ask while chuckling, and he nods while he chews.

I know that he only acts like this with me, so no one can imagine the feelings that I’m experiencing, how special I feel, and I can’t even begin to describe them.

He gives me another bite, then wipes the syrup that somehow ran down my lips and reached my chin, then licked it off his finger.

Sweet Jesus, Mary mother of God!

Why didn't you lick it straight from my face?

He smiles and kisses my nose, and I fall in love all over again.

Nope, I didn’t stop loving him. I tried to lie to myself, maybe I even succeeded in a certain measure, but... I still love him.

What angers me is that I still love that motherfucker too.

And, just my luck, neither of them loves me back. Yes, Ares loves me, but he loves me as a friend, maybe a little sister, but nothing more.

By the time we finished breakfast, I almost finished too.

We talked some more, he made me feel like the most precious being on this planet, and I almost finished again when he hugged me goodbye and kissed my forehead, cheeks, and nose.

On my way home I thought about how good I slept and how easily I fell asleep in his arms even though my heart didn’t stop racing from the close proximity, his intoxicating scent that made my core tingle sinfully, and his body heat that burned me from the inside out, and to my horror, I had a wet dream. I just hope I didn’t talk in my sleep or moan or something.

He didn’t say anything this morning, he acted normal, but then again, what would you say to someone who had a wet dream in your arms?

“Hey, you moaned my name and I think you had an orgasm too.” Yeah, no.

“Where the f**k have you been?!” And this is my lovely husband.

“I’m gonna give you the same answer you gave me when you wouldn’t come home. I had to work.” I deadpan and push my way to the staircases but he grabs my wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” I demand and pull my hand, but he tightens his grip, making it impossible for me to get away.

“You’re my f*****g wife, and you will tell me where you’ve been!” He growls like a caveman, and I turn and sigh heavily as if he bores me.

“Hubby, your wife died a few days ago when she caught you balls deep in what’s-her-f*****g-name p***y. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” He groans and takes a step threateningly, and again, I sigh as if I’m bored.

“If you don’t want me to find out by myself and kill whoever you’ve been with, you will tell me by yourself.” I so die to tell him that I spent the night with his biggest enemy, but I know that it will turn into a blood bath if I do, and I don’t want Ares to get killed in a crossfire.

Or the bastard.

God, I’m stupid.

“I spent the night with my best friend whom I abandoned when I got together with you.” He squints his eyes and looks at me suspiciously, and I roll my eyes.

“Look, Zion. There’s not even one person from my previous and now actual life who you would have accepted when we got together. They are all a bunch of tattooed crazy f***s that ride bikes and wear leather. I now have to beg for forgiveness to get them back, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let you scare them away.” I try to be as vague as possible, getting away from the best friend subject, and I think my method worked because he sighed and loosened his grip on me.

“Now, let go of me.” I pull my hand and he lets go, then runs his long fingers through his jet-black hair as if he’s frustrated.

Don’t f*****g look at him!

“Saturday we have a dinner party at Luxurious.” He states as if I’m obligated to go.

“If you want me there you’ll have to be a little bit nicer about it.” I cross my arms over my chest, and he looks at me up and down, -don’t know the expression-, then sighs.

“I want you to come with me.”

“Nope. That won’t do. Try harder.” He groans in exasperation and I beam.

“I need you to come with me.” I tsk my tongue and shake my head.

“Harder, love, harder.” He takes two steps closer but I keep my stand and look up at him defiantly.

“I’m... asking you to come with me.” Goddamn, it will kill him to say please.

“I see that you don’t want me to come badly enough. But then again, why do you want me to come? I won’t cover my tattoos and wear a nice pink dress if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d rather cut--”

“No, Samara, I’m not asking you to hide anything or to dress a certain way. You can come dressed as you please.”

“Are you sure about that, hubby?” I ask with a mischievous smirk, and he looks at me suspiciously.

Fuck, why is he so hot when he looks like that?

“Yes, love, I’m sure.” He matches my look and tone and I try to hide my own suspicions.

“Ok. Now ask nicely.” He throws his hands in the air, his head back, and groans in utter exasperation.

“I did ask you nicely.”

“No, you didn’t. Now do it or I won’t come.” I’m actually relying on him not saying please so I wouldn’t have to go and not have a fight about it.

"Please.” He gritted lowly through his teeth, then grimaced as if a part of his soul left with the word.

Shit. A part of me is in ecstasy because the big bad Zion Leroy just said f*****g please, but a part... I don’t want to go. But... my parents will be there too. Ok, I’ll have some fun.

“Ok. Text me the time,” I say while turning to go upstairs.

“Seven P.M.”

I took a bath, texted Ares, then called, and after hearing his voice, I might or I might not have played with myself. Unfortunately, Zion barged into my fantasy, but I got rid of him.

Ares said that he has some business to attend to until later on, so I decided to go and wash my love.

I was almost done drying it when something caught my attention.

A little device glued under the engine.

"Motherfucker!" I run upstairs and put on the leather jumpsuit that looks like a second skin on me, admire myself for a second, remind myself that I’m beautiful, sexy, and smart, even if other people don’t see me like this.

I have to be happy with who I am, not others. Ok, I wouldn’t mind if Ares would see me hot, but you get the point.

After I take on my leather jacket, my pocket knife just in case I have to kill the bastard, put my helmet on, I ride as fast as the traffic allowed me to the big building where I caught him f*****g.

I reach the 40th floor, where the CEO’s office is, and when I look at the secretary’s desk, I see that it’s empty.

My stomach turns and twists, and my eyes start burning, knowing that it’s a big possibility that I’ll catch them again, but I take deep breaths, blink back the f*****g tears because he doesn’t deserve any, prepare myself mentally, then barge into the office.

As suspected and expected, the secretary is here.

On her knees.

He’s buckling his belt.

Fuck, it hurts. It f*****g hurts. Why the f**k does it hurt? I knew, I prepared myself, but...

Ok, don’t show it, Samara!

The secretary looks at me with a confused frown, most probably not recognizing me, and he looks at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“I’m his wife. On papers only, so you don’t have to get up.” I gesture with my hand for her to keep kneeling, and she did.

“Andrea, get out.” He commands, and Andrea gets up fast.

“Andrea, it’s ok, I’ll only take a minute of his time and you can continue--”

“Andrea, out!”

“Don’t be f*****g rude. The woman just sucked you, for f**k’s sake. Andrea, don’t mind him!” I said louder because she was halfway out the door.

“Samara, I... f**k!” Well, if he isn’t angry that I caught him.

“Zion, I don’t give a f**k what you’re doing in your free time as long as it doesn’t affect me.” For some reason, he frowns, but I’m not in the mood to guess what that means.

“So you don’t care if I f**k around?” I chuckle humorously, hoping that it sounded genuine and not forced.

“As if you’d care if I’d care. But, to answer your question, no, I stopped caring about you and what you’re doing altogether. Anyway, I’m not here for this. I’m here for this.” I throw the tracking device at him, hitting him in the chest.

“You’re my wife and I have the righ--”

“I swear to God, you acknowledged me as your wife in the last two days more than in the entirety of our marriage, and you start to piss me off. I’m your wife on papers and I’m trying to be civil until you smarten up and file for divorce, but if you insist, I can show you the worst of me.” I say in a cold voice, and he looks at me with his eyebrows raised and a smirk.

“What can be worse than making me sleep next to you naked?” I frown so hard that I think it will stay printed on my face for at least a week.

“Excuse me? I’m not making you do s**t, and if you’re so f*****g repulsed, you have ten other rooms to sleep in.” I snap, and he chuckles.

The motherfucker wants to die.

“Repulsed? Not one bit. Quite the opposite. Why do you think I had to blow off some steam--”

“Oh, you didn’t! You sick motherfucker! You’re trying to blame your dirty actions on me? Are you f*****g serious? And the rest of the time? What happened then that you had to f**k everything on two legs?” I snap and take a menacing step toward him, ready to use my pocket knife if needed.

“Then you were boring. Now you’re not. Then you were plain. Now you’re hot.” He explains with a smirk, very nonchalantly as if I should have known that.

If I hadn’t just caught him in the act and he would have told me this in other circumstances, maybe the blush on my face would have been from a different reason than rage.

“How the f**k did I ever fall in love with you? How? You’re the most shallow and cold-hearted son of a b***h I know, and I know quite a few cold-hearted sons of a bitches. You--” He interrupts me by grabbing the front of my throat and squeezing it hard while looking straight into my soul with an expression I know very well.

Freezing cold. Cruel.

“You’re making a habit of disrespecting me and I don’t like it.” He says in the same cold, cruel, voice I heard him use on the tapes before he killed a few guys, and even though my heart is hammering and my survival instinct tells me to shut up and stand still until he releases me, my anger gets the best of me and I quickly take the knife from my jacket and press it against his balls.

“You have three seconds to release me. That, if you ever want to f**k again.” I croak because of the tight grip, and at the same time push the blade harder.

“Before you snap my neck I’ll shred your d**k and balls,” I promise, and the bastard smirks, licks his lips, then releases me and throws his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“You surprise me more and more every day.” He says it as if it's a good thing, and I look at him as if he’s crazy.

“If I knew that threatening your s*x life would get you to be attracted by me, I would have done it a long time ago. But, unfortunately, now I don’t give a f**k, so, you can wipe that smirk off your face.” What the f**k is he thinking about now?

“For the last time. Do not track me again, or there will be consequences.”

“What consequences?” He asks amused, and I take a step forward and tilt my head back so I can look into his demonic eyes.

“I dare you to find out.” And with that, I turn to go, but, of course, the motherfucker grabs my wrist and stops me.

“Dare accepted.” And he lets go of my hand and makes a gesture with his hand as if telling me that I have his approval to go.

Yeah, that won’t work.

“On second thoughts, I’ve never seen what you’re doing at work.” I take my jacket off, throw it across the desk so it would land on the hallstand next to the wall, then jump the desk skilfully, landing on the big, black, and very comfortable leather chair.

“So... what’s on the schedule today, hubby?” I ask and prop my heels on the dark mahogany desk, and he looks at me with wide, shocked eyes.