Monster A Dark Arranged Marriage Romance - Vanessa Waltz Page 0,36
off here?
According to Tony, stuff didn’t make someone happier, and he was right. Ever since I was blessed with a credit card with sky-high limits, my worries had evolved from paying bills to my unfulfilling marriage. I wanted to fix it.
So I strode to the brick clubhouse.
Music throbbed from the windows. I pushed my hip into the doors, and they flew open.
Empty bottles littered the bar and floor. A shirtless man bent over a pool table, nuzzling a pair of big fake tits. His back muscles rippled as he plowed into a squirming brunette with koi fish tattoos wrapping her stomach. A blonde stood beside him, hand on his shoulder. He straightened, fisted her hair, and smashed his mouth into hers.
Ghost.
He angled his hips and pounded. The club girl’s shouts echoed to the ceiling.
I gritted my teeth and approached the half-naked Ghost, whose tattooed hands played with her breasts. I ignored the girls. They didn’t rank next to the president’s daughter, and they knew it.
“Ghost.” I tapped him. “Let’s talk.”
His sweat-streaked neck craned toward me. Bewilderment widened his salacious gaze, which dove down my neckline. “What about, sweetheart?”
“My husband.”
Irritation flickered across his brow as he resumed thrusting.
“I have something to ask about Costa.”
“Are you trying to kill my boner?”
Yes. Isn’t that obvious?
I crossed my arms. “I didn’t realize keeping it up was that hard.”
“You want to see hard?”
He pulled out, and I glanced down. His laughter was low and throaty. A second later, he was at it like I wasn’t standing there.
Such a pig. “Ghost, I just need a few minutes!”
“So do I.”
“You fuck club sluts all day long. Put it away and talk to me.”
“You’re welcome to watch,” he said, punctuating every syllable with a thrust. “I find it hot—”
“Tony Costa,” I shot out, and he grunted. “He’s taller than you, olive-skinned, curly chest hair that goes to his cock, which is nice and thick, and circumcised, by the way.”
Ghost squeezed his eyes shut, as though warding off that mental image. “Goddamn you. This better be good.” He stepped away, tucking himself into his jeans. Then he slapped the girl’s breasts. “Don’t move.”
Ghost pushed me into the hallway. His jaw clicked as he opened a door and pointed inside.
I strolled into his room, nose wrinkling. It reeked of sex and unwashed male.
Ghost closed the door behind us. He sprawled on his messy bed. He spread his legs wide and swiped a pack of cigarettes off the nightstand.
I shook my head when he offered me one.
“Who the hell do you think you are, interrupting me mid-fuck?” Ghost flicked his thumb on the lighter, igniting the cigarette. “I might’ve led you on, but there’s no need to act like a jealous bitch.”
“This isn’t about you.”
“What. Do. You. Want?”
Ghost took a drag, blinking. His raking gaze centered on my chest as I pulled a chair and sat beside him.
“I need to ask you about my husband.”
He made a noise of disgust.
I grabbed his wrist. “Ghost, please. Dad won’t say a word and none of the girls know what happened to Tony. He’s raw about it, and refuses to tell me anything.”
Ghost tipped his head, blowing the smoke to the ceiling. He chuckled. The sound raised my hackles.
“What’s so funny?”
“You had to be there,” he said, winking. “Sadly, I wasn’t a member at the time, but everybody knows.”
“Tell me.”
His boyish smirk widened. “What will you give me?”
Heat stole into my face.
“Nothing.”
“Well, then you get nothing. It’s club business. You want me to break the rules? Drop to your knees and put that mouth to work.”
I curled my lip. “I’ll tell Dad you kissed me.”
“That was months ago.”
“Still. He wouldn’t like it.”
Ghost slowly stood, sucking on his cigarette. Smoke blew from his full pout. His body pushed me against the wall, all six feet of him trapping me. The finger holding the cigarette traced my lips. “You’re pissed I didn’t ask you to be my old lady. After one stupid kiss. Wasn’t even worth it.” He leaned in. His putrid whisper brushed my nose. “You really want to know?”
I nodded.
Ghost detached from me and dug into his pants for his cell. He shoved the phone into my hands.
“Watch this. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Needles prickled along my spine.
“What is it?”
His head hung over my shoulder. “Watch.”
I pressed the play button, and the screen blazed with a chilling image.
A man sat on a basement floor. Harsh lighting bleached his wasted physique, throwing the cuts and bruises that marked him in crude gashes. A