Who wants to be a millionaire?

James knew that sleeping with his boss' wife could be really perilous.

Fucking her on Edward's desk could serve only a singular result, to his deteriment but the adrenaline rush of lust brought him to this moment with her spread across Edwards paperwork, his dick inside of Jenna.

A sudden change in light indicates movement in the direction on the doorway, snatching his attention away from the ravishing beauty beneath him.

When the gun appeared he understood how dangerous this really was, the reward for listening to his cock. Stumbling backwards offering profuse apologies, the bullet shatter through his chest sending him airborne, crashing against the wall in a disorderly heap. The last thing he will see is Edward grinning with manic glee.

Life drains out of James as he considers that he doesn't want to die in this manner, with his pants around his ankles. His body intiates it's final shutdown, forcing his eyes his eyes to close to the piercing sound of voices raised in anger. A gunshot puncuates the air as James flows along the tide of life and death, from present to past. James joins the daily deceased.

Six months later...

Jenna smirks to herself , lying on a picturesque beach with just a whisper of a wind ruffling her hair. Her cocktail lies beside her perspiring from the summer sun.

All in all it worked out well, she thinks to herself, despite recovering from 'being shot'. The final touch which convinced the court to rule in favour of self defence after a drawn out trial. When the judge uttered 'not guilty' he equally handed her millions.

Edward and his life insurance.

Rest in peace James.