Temptress

Temptress
OPAL
Bruce is in the shower and has been there for the last half an hour. 
This is notable because it's the only bit of time I've had to myself since we embarked on this trip. He's in the room all the time, and when I suggested heading downstairs, he told me that it could be dangerous with this smug look on his face that told me he was doing it on purpose. 
He didn't want me to go downstairs because he wants me here, in this damned room with him. 
I'm staring out the window, hoping and praying that the rain will stop so we can continue on our journey. What if it rains until tomorrow? We'll have to spend the night here and this room is way too small for that. 
I'll sleep on the couch is necessary. 
I won't share a bed with him. I refuse. 
When the shower stops, my heart skips a beat and then starts beating faster and faster. I clench my jaw, irritated by how involved I am in all this. If I could just detach myself, I'd be happier. Why do I have to be aware of him all the time?
Why can't I just act like he isn't in the room?
The door opens and my thoughts come to a staggering halt. His scent invades my nostrils and makes me almost feral. I keep my eyes trained on the window pointedly, refusing to look at him. 
This can't be normal. Why does my body react this way whenever he's near?
I'm aware of him moving around the room, his scent getting everywhere. I glance at him and see his muscular back. He's bent over his duffel bag, a towel covering the lower part of his body. His muscles flex beneath his skin with every move he makes. 
Sharply, I look away. "Could you dress in the bathroom?"
"Why? It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."
I bite back a scoff. This man is unbelievable. Once he's dressed—and he does so in the room just to provoke me—he asks me, "Are you hungry? We could grab something to eat downstairs."
"Now it's safe to go downstairs?" I ask, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. 
"I'll be there with you, so yes."
I turn my head to look at him and shake my head. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"
"Why?" Bruce asks, genuinely confused. "I don't understand what you're implying here, Opal."
I'm a little hungry because it's been hours since we had breakfast, but I tell him, "No, I'm not hungry. You can go alone."
"I won't leave you by yourself."
I throw him a bewildered look over my shoulder. "I'm not a child you have to look out for. I'm an adult and I'm far from helpless, Bruce. You can go—it's not like I'd go anywhere."
"Why the hostility?" he asks, stepping closer to me. I watch him carefully, aware of every bit of space his proximity eats away. "I don't understand you at all, Opal."
"What don't you understand?"
"Why you act hot and cold with me," he admits. His eyes search mine deeply. "Why you refuse to admit that there's something between us that can't be explained."
"There's nothing between us."
"No?" he asks, stepping closer. I back away so quickly that my back hits the window. Bruce seems satisfied by the reaction. "Why do you put so much effort into staying away from me, then? I didn't take you for a liar, Opal."
I scoff, but for some reason, I can't come up with a single word to defend myself. He's right. Damn him—he's right. I'm lying right to his face. 
I don't like how close he is to me. 
After a few beats, he turns around and strides out of the room without another word. I feel equal parts shitty and relieved. Part of the reason why I hate him so much is that he lied about who he was the night we met. I felt used by him. Then, I go to his house after marrying him and he treats me coldly. His entire family seems to have a problem with me—except Quinton. But even he's loaded with mysteries. He says he wants to tell me something, then changes his mind. 
Am I just supposed to be okay with all this?
A waiter brings food up to the room. It seems he ordered something for me even though I told him I wasn't hungry. I eat the food, not bothering with keeping my dignity intact. 
When I'm finished, I feel this loneliness deep in my bones. I was somewhat lonely even before this marriage, but now it's gotten worse. 
Bruce has been gone for many hours. The sky darkens and the rain hasn't stopped. I have no choice but to wash up and climb into bed. Perhaps when I wake up, this nightmare of a day will be far behind me, and we'll be able to get back on the road. 
But this day hasn't finished with me yet. 
I wake up suddenly when the bed dips beside me. My entire body freezes—Bruce's scent invades my nostrils along with the smell of whiskey. It's pretty strong. 
"No," I say as I start to turn around. "It's either you take the couch or I will—"
Bruce covers my mouth with his large, rough hand. My eyes bulge in the dark, and he looks at me with an intensity that makes my mouth dry up. 
"I don't want to sleep on any couch," he claims. Surprisingly, he isn't slurring. "I want to sleep right here with you. My wife."
The way he says those two little words makes goosebumps spread all over my skin. My nipples tighten and strain against the fabric of my nightgown, and he notices because his gaze flickers to them. 
I give his chest a shove. It's not as impactful as I'd hoped, but his hand drops away. "Don't call me that! You know as well as I do that our marriage was a political strategy!"
"It could be much more than that," he claims before his lips press against mine. My core tightens. I push him away. 
A chuckle leaves his lips and his eyes are alight with humor. "What? You don't want me? You're going to keep telling those same lies? Put effort, Opal."
He inches closer to me and I'm hyperventilating at this point. His whole weight is on top of me and I feel crushed. My hands are between us and I'm pushing him away. "Get off me, Bruce. You're drunk!"
"Drunk? I'm far from drunk. I tried to stay away from you, Opal, but I keep failing. I can't stay away from you. Goddess knows how much I've tried."
His hand brushes away the hair on my cheek. His touch sends shivers racing down my spine, and it's just on my cheek. "What are you, a witch? You've tempted me, Opal. You've turned me into a stranger. I've never acted this way with anyone before. Believe it or not, I have self-respect at some point. But with you, all of that flies out the window."
"We're not supposed to do this," I whisper. 
"Why?" he asks distractedly before kissing along my neck. I tilt it for him, granting him better access like she shameless whore I am. His lips touch me right where it feels good. My toes curl, and moisture pools between my legs. "I know every part of you that sings for me. You know mine. We're far from strangers, Opal. When will you give in?"
His lips move lower down my body. When they reach my aching, heavy breasts, I lose my mind. His hands caress them tenderly. Goddess, I love it when he runs his wet thumb around the pebbled flesh. 
"Gorgeous," he murmurs against my skin before his lips crash into mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer while he settles between my legs. 
And I lose myself completely.