Now in the confined space of the car, there was a shimmering tension between them and Theresa leaned forward to fill the silence with music but he caught her hand to prevent her from turning on the CD player.
“Don’t…” she turned to look at the silhouette of his profile but he kept his eyes glued to the road.
“But…”
“Did you have a good time tonight?” He asked gruffly.
“Yes… they’re all lovely people.”
“I’m glad.” Silence again. He still hadn’t released her hand, keeping it pinned between his hard thigh and his large hand.
“Everybody really liked you,” she could hear the warmth in his voice but didn’t know if it was directed at his friends or at her. “I was… proud… to have you there.” She blinked, not at all sure how to take that. “And I felt guilty for leaving it for so long. I never meant to make you feel like I was ashamed of you, Theresa… I didn’t want to marry you, it’s true, but not at any point did I ever feel that you would shame me.”
“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered. “It means a lot.” His hand tightened on hers before he let her go and she reluctantly lifted her hand from his thigh. There was silence again but this time it didn’t feel quite so unfriendly and unwelcome anymore.
Chapter Six
They got home after midnight and while Sandro proceeded to lock up, Theresa wearily headed for the shower in the upstairs guest bedroom that she was still determined to occupy, despite Sandro forcibly moving her back to the Master Suite every night. She was standing beneath the hot, relaxing spray of the multiple shower heads in the luxurious guest bathroom, her forehead pressed to the cool tiles, when a rush of cold air alerted her to the fact that the frosted glass door to the cubicle had slid open. She turned around with a resigned sigh and watched as Sandro turned to close the shower door behind him, offering her a tantalizing glimpse of the beautiful bottom that she had so admired earlier in the evening, while he’d been chasing a ball up and down Gabe’s lawn. He turned back to her and shook his head with a weary sigh.
“You are, without a doubt, turning into one of the most stubborn people I know, Red,” he groaned.
“I want that divorce, Sandro,” she insisted, trying not to drop her eyes to his eager erection. He smiled slightly, taking a step towards her.
“I know,” he admitted tiredly, reaching around her to grab the body wash and sponge dangling from the ornate faucets. His arms brushed against her naked flesh with every move he made and she tried desperately to shield her body’s eager reaction from him and folded her arms over the burgeoning red tips of her breasts.
“A.and… I don’t love you anymore,” she continued desperately, watching as he applied the fragrant body wash to the soft sponge. He kept his gaze on the sponge in his hand.
“I know,” his voice sounded a little strange but when he looked up again his expression was neutral. He raised his hand and gently started running the sponge over her folded arms.
“And I don’t want to stay in the same room with you anymore,” her voice quivered embarrassingly when he grasped one slender wrist with a big, gentle hand and lifted her arm away from her breasts to run the sponge down the underside of said arm and up towards her sensitive armpit. Her already hard nipples tightened to the point of pain. She swayed slightly, trying not to moan in pleasure, when he lifted the other arm and subjected it to the same sensual treatment.
“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” he whispered in response to her former statement, his eyes fixed on her obviously aroused breasts. He stepped even closer, crowding her with his large body and backing her up against the smooth tiles. The sponge swept across first one tight bud, then the other, so lightly she wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the touch or not.
This time because he was so close, his every little move brought his hard, smooth chest in brushing contact with the painfully erect little tips, it was all she could do to maintain her train of thought. The sponge was sweeping down between her breasts now and down over her torso, her flat stomach and further down still, over her abdomen and between her…
She sucked in a harsh breath when he quite deliberately dropped the sponge to replace it with his fingers.
“And… I want a… a…” she panted, when his fingers continued to stroke insistently down where she was most sensitive and one of her hands latched onto his wrist to curb the movement. He remained undeterred, staring down into her upturned face raptly. “A divorce…”
“You said that already…” he pointed out, his chest starting to heave as he sought to control his reaction to her obvious arousal. His hungry gaze dropped from her face to her small breasts, where her hard, raspberry pink nipples were starting to peek through the rapidly disintegrating suds. With a desperate groan he removed his hand from between her thighs, dropped to his knees and palmed the small mounds, taking one sudsy bud into his hungry, hot mouth. Theresa arched back at the electrifying touch, her back bowing and her head hitting the tiles with a thud.
Her big, beautiful husband, who knelt like a supplicant at the temple of her body, licked and kissed his way across the shallow valley between her breasts to find the other aching peak while his large hands swept down her body to her narrow hips, which he determinedly anchored to the tiled wall in an effort to keep her still. Theresa shuddered wildly and her hands buried themselves in his wet hair before restlessly moving to his shoulders where her nails dug in.