“Don’t come over all jaded with me, Suze. We know you always get what you want, in the end.”
“It’s true,” she admitted without reservation, “but right now, I think I need a friend, maybe you do, too.”
Anabel thought about it for a minute, then said, “At the end of the day, no matter what, at least I’ll get beautiful kids out of it, a comfy life and a secure future for my children. Maybe it’s worth the risk, you know? Because I’d rather be trampled all over and still have my children than be like you, bitter and twisted and visiting seedy dives late at night, alone. All you want is for me to be miserable, Susan. Admit it. You’d love it if that were true. Last night, you couldn’t stand to see a smile on my face. That was it, wasn’t it?”
“What do you know?” Susan growled.
“People talk,” Anabel answered, hoping that was explanation enough.
“I see. Fine. I see how you feel. You want to throw the kids thing at me, claim that’s why I’m like this. Well, let’s see, shall we? I almost died when I was six. My mother left me when I was eight. My father didn’t know how to parent. My stepbrother abused me when I was thirteen and nobody believed me and when I wouldn’t leave it, I received a restraining order. And okay, alright? I was insane. I was off my head and mad as a box of frogs. But do you have any idea what it’s like when people don’t listen, like really listen, and it feels like you’re in a room full of deaf ears and nobody is listening? That creates insanity. You have no idea what I’ve been through in my life. None at all. A year ago, I helped two friends get together who would have struggled to if it hadn’t been for me matchmaking. And when I needed them, where were they? They sided with Adam, didn’t they?”
“I still don’t believe he treated you badly.”
“Fine, okay, he didn’t. Happy now?”
“Nope, not happy. Why did you fucking lie?”
“Because the truth is, I did leave him, but to save him. Because of what I am. I can never give him what he wants. He pretends, oh, he pretends,” she rambled on, and Anabel could just imagine all the manic hand gestures going along with the dialogue, “but he does want kids. He wants a wife and kids, that’s who he is. But I don’t have the capacity to be either. I was kidding myself I could be what he needed, like you’re kidding yourself Isaac will be satisfied by one woman when we both know that’s not true. I kidded myself I could be the woman Adam wanted, that I could be good for once, but it was all just a fantasy, it wasn’t real. I took a temporary detour from who I am, but that wasn’t me. At all.”
Anabel rubbed her temples, trying to wrap her head around it. “You could get help, Susan. Perhaps he loves you enough.”
“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t. I come from a different world. I know he could never understand mine.”
Anabel didn’t understand it herself and never would – so it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that Adam wouldn’t understand or condone it either.
“Maybe loving someone is enough. Maybe we don’t have to know everything about one another. Maybe it’s just enough, you know? I can steer him right, take care of him, make a simpler life with him.”
“Make yourself lesser for him, you mean?” Susan goaded. “Isn’t that what you mean?”
Anabel could take no more and hung up. She found herself unable to stop shaking her head until she eventually burst into tears, glad that nobody entered the office, not for the rest of that day.
People must have sensed she wasn’t herself. Apparently, she was the only one denying it.
The Reckoning
Two Years Later
Everyone was gone for the night and Anabel’s bare breasts were pressed against her desk, rubbing against the metal beneath like she was being taunted by ice or something. It was both painful and pleasurable.
Mikey was fucking her hard, drawing all kinds of sounds from her mouth, though that should have been the job of her husband. Alas, since she had given birth last year, her husband had been nowhere near her.
Now whenever Anabel came into the city for work, she and Mikey would fuck afterhours across her desk, or back at his place, or both – until she was satisfied or he was, whatever.
She was missing her top and her skirt was rucked up around her waist as he slammed into her, over and over, his hands on her arse as he hammered his cock into her depths. He started to lose control and she reached between them, fingering herself until they came together.
He leaned forward, kissed her shoulder and lay his chest against her back to rest for a few seconds. The sex was good, but only because it was illicit. She hated herself. She hated her life.
She hated everyone and everything and every moment of every day.
But how might she escape this spiral?
She didn’t know.
He was really quite a bad lover.
It was always automatic with Mikey. Robotic, maybe.
He’d usually start off by getting her tits out and fondling them, perhaps at the same time as kissing her mouth or fingering her. He always looked so pleased with himself, whenever he made her come. It was nothing major to make a woman come. The clit is rather a marvellous thing, when soaked and with all the millions of nerve endings alert, it was pretty easy really. Women all over the world were rubbing themselves silly daily, making it to orgasm with much more ease than men would ever allow themselves to believe.
The next stage of his seduction usually saw him hammering her pussy until she got bored and then made herself come. The one thing she appreciated more than anything else was the sordidness of it all… the office fucks. She would have given anything, once upon a time, to have Isaac throw her across his desk and fuck her silly. She would have given anything to know that he wanted her so desperately, he was willing to do whatever it took to get her.
The only plus side of Mikey was that he was always hard and could go for hours and hours, even if he didn’t quite know what to do with his cock yet.
But he was eager. He did look at her like she was his favourite dessert or a chilled six-pack of beer. He was besotted and that’s what she needed – to feel wanted. She hadn’t got that from Isaac in so long. Not even giving him a son had earned her his passion back, even though they’d married, enjoyed a pleasant honeymoon together and sold the apartment, swapping it for a cosy farmhouse out in Surrey.
“I want you to leave him,” Mikey said, and Anabel slipped off his cock, hating him even being near her after saying something like that.
She pulled up her knickers, pushed her skirt down and found her blouse, throwing it back on. His eyes were fixed on her breasts, pale and pert, the nipples barely pink, though slightly bigger since childbirth.
“I can’t leave him. He’s my husband.”
They’d had this talk before, although not in such specific terms.
“Fine, maybe I’ll find his office and go and tell him,” Mikey threatened. “After all, why are you bothering with me? If he makes you so happy, then why?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have to explain my marriage to you. What you and I are is just lovers. That’s all. It’s been nothing more. We don’t eat dinner together. We fuck. We don’t sleep in the same bed. It’s fucking. That’s it. It’s simple, straightforward. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll understand.”
“I love you,” he groaned, in the same way he had a dozen times before.
A declaration like that was fine, and all, as long as it was cried out in the act of passion.
Any other time, she didn’t want to hear it.
“If it’s becoming difficult for you, perhaps you ought to find a new position and leave. A guy like you, you’d find work anywhere. You’re good at what you do. I’ll give you a good reference.”
“No, no!” he exclaimed. “That’s not what I want.”
“Then accept this is all I can give, won’t you? I won’t leave him.”
“You’re living a lie,” he protested.
She fixed her eyes on his. “And you aren’t?”
“Wha
t’s that supposed to mean?” His face contorted.
“You don’t know what love is, Mikey. You don’t understand.”
“Clearly we do have different ideas on that.” He scrambled for his clothes and made for the door.
“You mustn’t try to find my husband, Mikey,” she warned.
“I’m done with you,” he said, walking away, “we’re done.”
Anabel worked in town two days a week, usually staying overnight in a hotel. They could have kept a little flat in the city, but why would they when they wanted to put everything into their country home? Anabel maximised the two days a week by working twelve hours each day and was in the hotel bed for a little while before being right back out of it, so why spend tens of thousands on a tiny flat she’d likely never really use anyway?
Isaac worked from home these days, aside from the odd trip into town or to a site. He’d got into property developing. He threw money around while people did the hard work for him.
She was pretty sure he was fucking the nanny, a French girl with very thin legs that went up to her armpits, which weren’t shaved. Still, her pretty face no doubt made up for it. It didn’t really matter to her, anymore. She’d gone numb.
After a few hours’ sleep in her hotel room, she returned to her office expecting to be met by Mikey’s fury once again, but instead discovered he was late in or else didn’t plan on coming in at all today.
Two hours late, he strolled in, clearly having had a heavy night. He wore sunglasses at his desk, his shirt was crumpled and he didn’t even touch his coffee, though he was a coffee hound.
Anabel made no big deal about it even though people around the office were clearly put out and thought perhaps she should.
This was only going to get more complicated, wasn’t it?
It got to the end of the working day and to save face, she called him into her office while people were still around, making a point of showing them she was the type of boss who would deal with tardiness when required.
In the quiet of her private domain, she said firmly, “You mustn’t be late again. It looks bad. Tongues will start wagging.”
“I don’t care,” he growled.
If it got out that she was fucking a member of her staff and that her perfect marriage was a shambles – and that she’d taken advantage of a much younger man – her reputation would be ruined and she’d become a laughing stock.
“You need to care about yourself more and move on.”
His lip wobbled and a tear fell from his eye. “I do love you, Anabel. Why don’t you believe me?”
“I believe you think you love me, but the thing is, I’m just more experienced. What you think is love is infatuation.”
He stood up on unsteady legs as she remained seated behind her desk. Aggressively pointing and spitting in her direction, he accused, “You don’t know what love is, Anabel. You think staying with him is love? For god sake, woman.”
In her book, if you could still stand the sight of someone even when you knew they’d betrayed you, then yeah, that was basically love.
“Mikey, I want you to resign and do the decent thing. I’ll give you a good severance package. How about two months? Plus holiday pay.”
He shook his head, not knowing where to look. “Fine.”
“Okay, good. Put it in writing. The rest we will settle privately.”
He gulped and shook his head. “When did you get so lost, Bella? Hmm? When? You and I, we could have had something.”
She had no idea how they could ever have anything. He was completely inept at reading her feelings… her orgasms to him were like Big Macs, so easy to come by and so juicy, but he’d never tried to tempt something more complex from her… something deeper. He’d never laid in bed with her and discovered that, actually, you can make a woman come a number of different ways but it’s listening to her that actually gets you what you want.
“Until tomorrow,” she said, and he stormed out of her office, grabbing his things and leaving in a huff, everyone looking on with exasperation as he left.
When she got home to Isaac and Jacob later that night, the first thing on her mind was cuddling her son and being able to smell his scent again. No matter what else happened in her life, Jacob always brought light to her day.
She went straight upstairs once she was indoors, found the baby in the nursery and pulled him out, holding him tight against her chest. She knew she shouldn’t get him excited just before bed, but she’d missed him so much and he’d missed her, clucking and squawking wildly.
“I know, baby, I know,” she said, sitting in the armchair in the corner with him on her lap.
Hanna entered the room and smiled. “Oh good, you are home.”
“Yes, everything okay today?”
“No problem,” she said, “he is starting to try and get up. Walking soon.”
“Wow, what a clever boy.” He was barely a year old, determined to be out in the world already.
They had a wonderful, huge back garden and lots of space for him to ramble when he was bigger. There was also the orchard which Isaac like to tend, the vegetable patches, goats and chickens. It couldn’t have been more idyllic.
“May I speak with you about something?” Hanna asked.
“Of course.”
Hanna pushed the door closed and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Anabel and the baby.
“My boyfriend has been very mean lately and I don’t know what to do.”
Anabel had been so wrapped up in herself, she hadn’t realised that Hanna actually did have a life of her own.
“What on earth has he done?” Anabel feigned interest.
“Oh, he says I’m bound to be fucking the baby’s father and that I should tell the truth.”
I frowned deeply. “But you’re not?”
Hanna beamed bright red and Anabel immediately knew she was not.
“It’s some stupid, ridiculous stereotype, am I right? I think because Jake saw Isaac running in the village, he got jealous. That is all, but I don’t like it. What do you think?”
Anabel shrugged. “Isaac is quite a man, it’s true, but if he doesn’t trust you, what’s the point of keeping going?”
Anabel wished she could take her own advice, but she loved Isaac too much.
“Do you think he is not a good man?” Hanna asked.
“Just insecure,” Anabel said, and Hanna agreed with a nod, then got up and made to leave. “Do what you think is right.”
“I will, thank you.”
No matter what Isaac was, Anabel knew Hanna was pure and didn’t have it in her to lie. It would have been much easier to forgive herself if she knew Ike was also having an affair. For all she knew, he was. When he had the time, who knew? But Anabel didn’t know anything for sure anymore. She had caught Isaac and Hanna in the same room together a few times in the past having shared some private conversation, Hanna’s red cheeks giving away her little crush. Perhaps that was all Jake was jealous of – that he could tell his girlfriend had a silly, innocent little crush.
The baby eventually lay in her arms and sucked his thumb, falling off to sleep. Just the knowledge his mother was back home was enough to set him right for the long night ahead, on his own. She carefully put Jacob back in his crib, pulled a blanket over his little body and kissed his forehead, his skin like cotton under her lips, smelling delicious from his bath.
She found Isaac downstairs chopping vegetables and watched his strong forearms as he worked. While she was pouring herself a glass of wine, he murmured, “Okay?”
“Yeah, good.”
“Good.”
Before long, dinner was on the table and they ate quietly, until he asked, “Did Hanna seem strange to you earlier?”
“She’s just worried about her boyfriend.” Anabel shrugged it off. “Apparently, he’s the jealous type and can’t leave it alone that her employer is quite the hunk.”
Isaac shook his head, laughing like it was hysterical. “Oh, bloody hell.”
The room fell silent again and Anabel remembered that thing Susan had told her years ago – about him getting his, so why shouldn’t she get hers?
So if Isaac wasn’t getting his from Hanna, where was he getting it? True, he was forty years old and Hanna was barely twenty, but Isaac had something about him for sure.
Unless he wasn’t getting any at all…
She’d never considered that.
Perhaps he was depressed.
It was the first time she’d ever considered it.
“Why haven’t we had sex lately?” she asked him.
Isaac chewed his food like it was an effort, then swallowed like it wouldn’t go down. He looked down at the table, then whispered, “I feel like you’ve never forgiven me. I feel like we hurtled into marriage, and Jacob, and I feel like you never forgave me and I can’t stand that look in your eye. Sorry, but that’s how it is.”
Anabel’s whole body shook and something bubbled inside her. Self-disgust. Hate. She didn’t know. Whatever it was, she was repulsed by herself.
“I forgive you,” she said, reaching for his hand.
He took her fingers and squeezed them. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
She could forgive, but perhaps, she would never forget.
He would also never know that above all, she would never forgive herself for going after what Susan had so crassly termed, ‘getting your own’.
He took her to bed that night and made love to her, really made love to her. He bent her to his will, taking her body in his hands, his kisses everywhere. He gave her the most intense clitoral orgasm she’d had in years as he licked between her legs. Then he stroked his cock through her pussy, careful with his kisses and his moves, tending her gently until she could do nothing but respond violently to his patient, tender love. It was the best sex of her life. She cried in his arms and he asked, “Are you okay?”
Bad Lover Page 6