Someoneâs naked ass is on my imported marble countertops. That was Tessaâs first thought when she walked into her kitchen that warm Tuesday afternoon. Not, Why is Doug home this early? Or, Why does he have his pants around his ankles? And most definitely not Why is my best friend moaning like an injured cat? Nope. Tessaâs brain couldnât absorb those things just yet. Instead all she could think about was how there was a butt cheek sliding along the spot where sheâd chopped strawberries for breakfast.
The two occupants in the kitchen didnât even notice they were no longer alone, apparently too caught up in their counter defiling to bother. God, were they that oblivious and swept up in passion? Itâs not like sheâd been particularly quiet walking in. And sheâd slept with the man whoâd dropped trou in this little tableau for the last thirteen years. She knew he didnât inspire losing yourself to the moment. But maybe he saved his good tricks for Tuesday afternoons when he fucked the woman Tessa wouldâve trusted her life with before today.
Tessa cleared her throat, attempting to draw their attention, but all that greeted her was the sound of Doug telling that lying bitch how hot she was. Rage washed through Tessa in a slow, powerful roll, boiling up and over until she was shaking with it. She calmly set down her purse next to the fruit bowl and wrapped her hand around a large navel orange. Without pausing to reflect, she lifted the fruit and launched it right at her husbandâs head.
It went whizzing past him without notice, sailing into the living room, but she couldnât stop herself now. She picked up another and hurled it even harder. This one hit him right on the ear with a fat thud.
âWhat the fuck?â Dougâs hand went up to his ear, and he swiveled his head her way. âShit.â
The traitor on the counter opened her eyes then, her gaze going wide.
But Tessa kept throwing. Oranges, apples, a grapefruit that landed with satisfying impact. It was as if some other force had possessed her. Fruit whizzed across the kitchen, pelting the both of them as they scrambled to get up and pull their clothes around themselves.
âOw, Tessa, stop it! What the fuck is wrong with you?â Doug roared as he yanked at his pants with one hand while trying to fend off flying fruit with the other.
âWhat is wrong with me? Me?!â Tessa shouted, knowing she sounded like a lunatic but unable to stop herself.
âTessa, honey,â Marilyn said, hands out in front of her, blouse still hanging open. âLetâs just calm down, okay?â
Tessa pinned her former best friend with a glare. âDid you just dare speak to me?â
âMarilyn, sweetheart,â Doug said softly, putting a hand on her elbow and blocking her from Tessa with his body. âWhy donât you get out of here? Iâll deal with her.â
Sweetheart? Deal with her? Loud, crashing bells were going off in Tessaâs head. She was glad the knife block was out of reach because she wasnât sure she could trust herself in that moment.
Marilyn nodded after a quick, worried glance at Tessa then hurried through the living room toward the sliding glass doors that led to the pool area and a backyard exit. Apparently, she knew better than to try to walk by Tessa to get to the front door. Wise move. Because Tessa was ready to throw down Jerry Springer style.
With a tired sigh, Doug turned back to Tessa, his fly still unbuttoned and his dick still half-mast behind the material. The bastard hadnât even lost his erection. In fact, he looked more annoyed that heâd been interrupted than ashamed of what heâd done. Tessaâs fist balled. âYou lying, cheating asshole.â
He pulled on his dress shirt and looked around at the carnage of busted fruit on the floor. âCall the maid and have her come in early to clean this up. Itâll draw ants if it sits too long. Iâve got to get back to my office.â
Tessa blinked, almost too stunned to speak. âThatâs what you have to say for yourself?â
âYou donât want to hear what I have to say.â He adjusted his cuffs like it was any other day of getting ready for work and not like the whole foundation of their marriage had shattered beneath them.