Chapter 214: Community Stud

"Are you expecting someone?" he called after her.

"No," Naomi shouted back as she hurried out of the room.

He glanced at the time.

It was just a few minutes past seven, and their flight was in about an hour, which meant they didn’t have any time to waste. Their bags were packed, the arrangements had been made and Dorian had every intention of getting his wife onto that plane.

For one day, he wanted Naomi away from everything. Just him, his wife and the city where they had accidentally made the best mistake of his life.

Naomi reached the front door still carrying far too much energy for that hour of the morning. She pulled it open without checking first.

The excitement vanished from her face.

"Jordan?!" Her hand tightened around the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"My wife? Where is she? Tessa! Tessa!!" Jordan called loudly over Naomi’s shoulder, trying to look past her into the house as though Tessa might somehow appear if he shouted hard enough.

Naomi immediately stepped more firmly into the doorway. "Tessa is not here. Shouldn’t I be asking you where your wife is?" Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over, deliberately pretending not to know about his most recent roll in the hay.

Jordan looked exhausted and frantic, which would have earned him sympathy under different circumstances. Unfortunately for him, Naomi had spent hours watching Tessa cry about the state of their marriage. "She is not at home, she is not at the apartment."

Naomi tilted her head. "Why would she be at the apartment?"

"Don’t play stupid with me! I know she tells you everything!" he thundered.

Naomi’s brows rose. "If by everything you mean that you accidentally fell dick first into another woman again, then yeah. But I do not know where she is."

"Don’t lie to me!" He looked beyond her again, clearly unconvinced, and Naomi shifted sideways to block his view completely.

"You need to go."

"Naomi—"

"You heard me. Whatever conversation you need to have with Tessa, you will have it when she decides she wants to speak to you."

"She is my wife."

"And yet somehow that didn’t stop you from ending up repeatedly naked in somebody else’s bed."

"That is none of your business."

"Then you should have kept your pants on."

Jordan took a sharp breath. "Where is she?" he demanded again.

"I told you, I don’t know."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I honestly don’t care what you believe."

Naomi started to close the door.

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

She tried to wriggle free, but Jordan held on. "Let go of me, you son of a bitch!!!"

"Tell me where my wife is!"

Naomi pulled harder against his grip. "Why don’t you go ask your slut?!" she spat.

"You want to let go of my wife or do you want to pick your teeth off the ground?"

The voice came from behind her. It was a low growl, but far too calm.

Dorian stood on the stairs with a bag in each hand, dressed casually enough for their destination. His eyes were fixed directly on Jordan’s hand around Naomi’s arm.

Jordan quickly snatched his hand away. "Mr Heathcliffe..."

Dorian came down the remaining steps without taking his eyes off him. He placed both bags on the ground which somehow made the moment feel more threatening than if he had simply thrown them aside. He moved closer.

Jordan instinctively took a small step back.

Naomi had never seen Dorian actually need to announce that he was dangerous. He had a way of making people understand it without much effort.

Maybe it was the height. Maybe the stoic expression.

Dorian stopped beside Naomi. His hand found the small of her back, checking her with one glance before his attention returned to Jordan. "What do you want?"

"I just want to know where my wife is. Naomi is always corrupting her mind, messing up her mind, giving her all these ideas..." Jordan started to explain.

Dorian’s expression shifted into the disbelief he usually reserved for witnesses who said something so stupid in court that even opposing counsel looked embarrassed for them. "I don’t understand. Are you saying your wife cannot think for herself?"

Jordan hesitated. "Of course she can."

"Good. Because for a second there, it sounded like you were blaming my wife for your wife finally deciding she had enough of your bullshit."

Dorian took one slow step forward.

Jordan moved back.

Naomi, still standing by the doorway, folded her arms and watched.

"So tell me," Dorian continued, "what decision was she supposed to make when she found out you betrayed her twice?"

Jordan opened his mouth.

Dorian didn’t give him time. "Was she supposed to kiss your feet and hail the mighty community stud?" He kept going. "What would you have done if she had followed in your footsteps and jumped on every dick that came her way?" He moved forward again.

Jordan stepped back.

The distance between them changed slowly, but the power dynamic changed much faster.

Dorian was taller, broader and far too comfortable in his own skin.

Jordan was shrinking under Dorian’s height and gaze without even seeming to realise he was doing it.

"Would you have thought twice before throwing her to the curb? Would you have given her a second chance? Would you have sat there and listened to her explain why she ended up in another man’s bed? Would you have nodded thoughtfully and said, ’Well, mistakes happen, sweetheart’?"

Dorian’s ability to verbally dismember someone while sounding conversational was incredibly stunning that Naomi felt herself heat up. He didn’t need to shout. He simply asked questions until people realised they had no good answers.

Jordan backed up another step.

Dorian followed. "Do you honestly expect her to come back and give you the opportunity to betray her a third time?"

"I love my wife."

Dorian’s brows lifted. "Congratulations. That doesn’t change the fact that you are an asshole. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood."