Page 81 of The Betrayal
He pushes to his feet, lifts me into his arms and fucks me hard and raw against the wall, not letting up once as he covers my mouth the whole time until we’re both coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
KEATON
The drive to work is an anxious one.
I know I am going to have to face Titus, I can’t run and hide. I am a forty-seven-year-old man and I’m not going to lie, I am shitting myself just a little bit.
I deserve it all.
Still doesn’t make it any easier.
Slowing when I pull into my parking space, I inhale deeply and give myself a moment or two before I finally step out the car, briefcase in hand. Suited and booted. Ready to have my ass handed to me.
Fair.
Pushing the button for the elevator, I count how long it takes to reach me.
Seven seconds.
Nine seconds to go back up.
Give or take.
The doors ping and I step out into the office ready to have my face punched, but it’s calm. Nate sits at his desk. Kaleb is in his office, door pulled two and Titus’s desk is empty.
Odd.
“Morning,” I smile, nerves killing me on the inside and Nate’s eyes widen.
“Keaton, you’re back.”
I nod, walking behind him and gripping his shoulder in a friendly way as I walk across to my office, pushing the door to.
Unbuttoning the top button of my white shirt, I run my two fingers inside my collar that feels suddenly too tight, strangling me.
Maybe just getting me ready for my friend’s hands round my neck.
I’m not alone long when Kaleb pops his head round the door.
“My brother returns, I hear congratulations are in order for you and your beautiful wife,” he twists his lips trying his hardest to not break into a laugh.
“I wish that was the worst of it,” I mumble and yes, my answer could be coded. But I know what I am insinuating, Kaleb will think that I am on about Titus’s reaction.
“Where is he anyway?”
Kaleb looks over his shoulder and puffs out his cheeks, “Should be here any minute, he ran out to get coffees.”
“Cool,” I sound very unenthusiastic.
“He is angry.”
“No shit,” I scoff a laugh and scrub my face when I see my emails popping in.
“I wish you luck, brother.”
“Thanks,” I salute him off my temple, elbow resting on my desk as he ducks out and goes back to his office. I think.