The Night My Husband Was Away - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
You are reading The Night My Husband Was Away, Chapter 2: Chapter 2. Read more chapters of The Night My Husband Was Away.
My pulse jumped as three imposing figures filled my doorway, their silhouettes casting long shadows across my apartment floor.
Vincent Roscente stepped closer, the sharp scent of whiskey on his breath making my stomach tighten.
"Didn't mean to drop by so late," he rumbled, his voice rough like gravel.
I pressed my lips together, nodding stiffly as they moved past me, one by one.
Vincent didn't hesitate—he strode straight to the bathroom like he already knew the layout.
Daniel Evans and Nathan Lowell lingered in the living room, their gazes sweeping over everything—the furniture, the walls, me.
I tugged at the hem of my nightgown, suddenly hyperaware of how thin the fabric was. How little it hid.
Daniel sank into my couch like he owned it, his biceps flexing as he draped an arm over the back. His tank top stretched tight over his chest with every breath.
I tried not to stare. Failed.
Nathan's voice cut through the silence. "Sophia, when's your husband back?"
Before I could answer, Vincent called from the bathroom.
"Sophia, get in here. Something's not right."
My feet carried me forward before my brain could protest.
The bathroom door was wide open. Vincent stood inside, shirt half-unbuttoned, his collarbones on full display.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Come see for yourself." He crooked a finger.
The second I stepped inside, his arm locked around my waist, yanking me against him. Heat radiated off his body, searing through my clothes.
I gasped, hands flying to his chest. "Vincent—stop."
"You watch us every night," he murmured, lips grazing my ear. "I've seen how you bite your lip when we train. You want this."
My limbs turned to liquid. Every squirm only made him grip me harder.
His palm slid up my thigh, slow, deliberate. I clenched my teeth, but when his fingers brushed there, a broken sound tore from my throat.
Outside, footsteps paused.
Daniel and Nathan were listening.
Vincent pinned me against the sink, smirking. "Relax. They won't interrupt."
Shame and desire twisted together, my legs shaking. Then—
The doorbell rang.
Vincent Roscente stepped closer, the sharp scent of whiskey on his breath making my stomach tighten.
"Didn't mean to drop by so late," he rumbled, his voice rough like gravel.
I pressed my lips together, nodding stiffly as they moved past me, one by one.
Vincent didn't hesitate—he strode straight to the bathroom like he already knew the layout.
Daniel Evans and Nathan Lowell lingered in the living room, their gazes sweeping over everything—the furniture, the walls, me.
I tugged at the hem of my nightgown, suddenly hyperaware of how thin the fabric was. How little it hid.
Daniel sank into my couch like he owned it, his biceps flexing as he draped an arm over the back. His tank top stretched tight over his chest with every breath.
I tried not to stare. Failed.
Nathan's voice cut through the silence. "Sophia, when's your husband back?"
Before I could answer, Vincent called from the bathroom.
"Sophia, get in here. Something's not right."
My feet carried me forward before my brain could protest.
The bathroom door was wide open. Vincent stood inside, shirt half-unbuttoned, his collarbones on full display.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Come see for yourself." He crooked a finger.
The second I stepped inside, his arm locked around my waist, yanking me against him. Heat radiated off his body, searing through my clothes.
I gasped, hands flying to his chest. "Vincent—stop."
"You watch us every night," he murmured, lips grazing my ear. "I've seen how you bite your lip when we train. You want this."
My limbs turned to liquid. Every squirm only made him grip me harder.
His palm slid up my thigh, slow, deliberate. I clenched my teeth, but when his fingers brushed there, a broken sound tore from my throat.
Outside, footsteps paused.
Daniel and Nathan were listening.
Vincent pinned me against the sink, smirking. "Relax. They won't interrupt."
Shame and desire twisted together, my legs shaking. Then—
The doorbell rang.
End of The Night My Husband Was Away Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to The Night My Husband Was Away book page.