Page 82 of Checkmate
Sophie
Watching through the frosted glass of Alex’s office window, Sophie felt her stomach drop as the two figures embraced.
After months of whispering in Alex’s ear and sowing those seeds of doubt, she thought she had finally got everything she wanted.
Their drive and fuck down the motorway was the most terrifying, exhilarating and intense orgasm of her life. Multiple times she was sure she was going to die.
But they made it out alive and Alex had taken such good care of her.
What followed was a night like no other. They had found somewhere quiet to park up and fucked over every inch of that car, inside and out.
The evening ended with them laying on the bonnet, still naked and watching the stars wrapped in a blanket that Alex had found in the boot.
She thought that was it. That somehow, against the odds, she had won.
What a fucking idiot she was.
The next day, she heard nothing from him. Not one text to check in with her. Not one missed call. Hell, even her messages went unread as though he had completely disappeared.
She couldn’t figure it out.
Not until the following day when he had walked into the office hand in hand with Erica, both beaming from ear to ear.
What the fuck was that all about?
She’d given him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day and ignored all of his attempts to draw her into his office.
No way was she going to allow him to fuck her when he had treated her so poorly. He thought he was so slick, that he could use her feelings for him against her.
Well, no more.
She hadn’t let him touch her for over a week and a half now and with only one day left before the building closed for Christmas break; he was running out of time to try win her over.
Having Erica in his office was not helping his case.
She missed him. As stupid as that was, and boy did she know it was stupid, she missed him desperately.
It didn’t help that her home life fared no better. It was one thing to compete with Erica for Alex’s affections (they were married, after all), but it seemed even Marcus had fallen under her spell.
It was all Erica this, and Erica that, and isn’t she so fucking perfect and special? Sophie jabbed her pencil against her notebook, snapping the lead and leaving a dent in the page.
She sighed, tossing aside the pencil and straightening herself out.
This was no good, driving herself crazy like this.
What had happened to her? If old Sophie could see her now, she’d tell her how pathetic she was. Since when did Sophie Crowe (née Hayward), let any man have any kind of hold on her?
She used to be the kind of woman who had men chasing after her. She used to fund an entire night out on the back of men who wanted something from her, and she commanded attention wherever the fuck she went.
And now?
Now she was chasing an unattainable married man whose obsession with his wife ran so deep that he pulled a stunt that could have killed not only him but a dozen more people.
Because Sophie had figured it out now that the motorway was nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Erica.
Of course it was about Erica. Why had she tried to convince herself otherwise?
It was Marcus that clued her in, although he did so unknowingly.
