ScarI finish packing the bags. Rita's up in the living room with Molly, finishing off another bottle of champagne. She can sleep on the flight back to Dallas.I'm already thinking logistics. Contracts. Apartments. A new move, a new life. Taking on the Callahan family is like beginning over again. I'll have to let some clients go—the Callahan network sprawls too wide and too deep. They'll keep me too busy for some of my smaller jobs. I told Orin I wouldn't give him special treatment, but we both know that's bullshit.Joining the family means loyalty to death.Except what will that mean for Rita? I worry about her as I finish getting our things together. When we inevitably stage our breakup and get our divorce, will Orin let her walk away? Will Molly try to patch things over? Will Rita feel like she's losing something all over again? I don't want to drag her through that, not if I can help it, but we both know the deal.Only I'm not sure why it's worth chasing anymore.I leave the room

RitaI'm not a great cook so I order from his favorite take-out place, this barbecue restaurant a couple blocks away. I have everything set up when he gets home, looking exhausted from a long day at the office. I want to do something nice for him—the way he did something nice for me.A small surprise to ease some of his tension. Maybe even to bring a smile to his face.The more I'm around him, the more I think he needs this sort of surprise in his life. He has his friends, his work, but he spends so much time doing things for other people.He deserves to have something done for him for a change."Here's to a long day," Scar says, pouring two glasses of wine and toasting me."Here's to very thoughtful gifts."He sits down with a sigh, takes off his tie, rolls his sleeves up to show off his lovely forearms, and starts to eat. I watch him for a moment, picking at my plate, my guts a nervous roil, but Cait's right. If someone's going to make the first move, it might as well be me.And any

ScarI dream of Rita that night. When I wake, I'm still in her bed. We smell like sex. I kiss her neck, cup her naked breasts. She wiggles her hips against me until I'm hard again. She's sleepy and beautiful as I kiss her. We fuck like that, half awake. I make sure to grind against her with my piercing, driving her wild. It gives me satisfaction, making her come like this, more joy than I ever thought possible. When she gets off twice, she pushes me back, panting and sweating, and she finishes me with her mouth. Slow and sensual, eyes locked on mine. Swallows every drop.While she showers, I make breakfast. Pancakes and coffee. She accepts a plate when she comes out, drying her hair. "That was unexpected," she says."What, the morning sex?""No, the pancakes." She stares at the plate. "I genuinely didn't think you knew how to work the stove."I roll my eyes. "I wasn't always rich, remember? I lived on pancakes for years. They gave me a scholarship at Blackwoods, but not a stipend. Mos

RitaScar decides to surprise me by taking the rest of the day off. We leave the gym and head to a nearby wine bar. Lots of glass, lots of light. Wood and metal are the dominant motifs. We get a table near the front windows, away from the other patrons. Scar orders for both of us. It's quiet, but starting to fill up as Friday wears on and people leave the office early."You're not talkative," I say, swirling my red, eyeing him over the glass. Despite claiming he wants to spend time with me, as soon as we're actually together, it's like his mind is elsewhere.He forces a smile though. "Sorry. Just thinking.""This is the part of the conversation where you share what you're thinking," I prompt, eyebrows raised."Just work stuff." He takes a drink. Shutting down again. Pushing me away.I want to push him on it, but decide on a different tact. "This morning when I sucked your dick, that's the first time I ever swallowed."He chokes on his drink, looking around to see if anyone heard. "I'm

ScarWe don't retire to separate rooms that night. Instead, she follows me into my room. We shower together, put on comfortable clothes. She steals shorts and a t-shirt from my drawer. I lie there looking at her in only boxer briefs, admiring her lean body, her beautiful tits, her firm ass. She looks over her shoulder at me, smiling, that dazed, pleasured look in her eye.Beautiful. Absolutely stunning."Do you want to know why I always ask you to put on your seatbelt?" The words spill out of me. I don't know why I'm bringing this up now, of all times.But there's something in this moment. We showered together. We're getting into bed together. She's wearing my clothes, and I fully plan on taking them off and feasting on her tonight.It's intimate. So far, our marriage has been fake. Every time we've moved things to the next level, we've tried to pull it back before it went too far.This feels like we're crossing a line.I want to keep going.I need to live in this moment—because I don