The Izzy and Seb Collection: The Evermore Series Books 1, 2 and 2.5

by Rachel De Lune

  Monday

  After how good the shower was yesterday morning, I decide that I’m going to spend a little extra time in the shower every morning this week. It feels so good to get that release, that warm feeling throughout my body. Today, getting myself off was easier than yesterday, and I even have a slight glow to my cheeks as I rush to finish getting ready for work.

  I’ve completed my homework for today… and I think I found how I like to do my homework the best. Izzy

  Really? You’ve only been fingering yourself for a couple of days and you already think you know how you like it best? Isabel, you need to experiment a lot more. S

  No, I mean I know that I like it in the shower, where I’m not going to be disturbed. Izzy

  The shower. That sounds… Well, let’s just say I’m going to have an interesting day thinking about it. S

  His text puts another great smile on my face. I happily go to work, content in how my body feels and eagerly looking forward to my morning shower tomorrow.

  Tuesday

  Oh no, no, no! Shit! Phil has left early for his morning shift and although I usually lie in bed for a little bit longer, content to keep warm in the covers, I must have fallen back into a deep sleep. I seem to be sleeping especially well at the moment. Perhaps they should recommend a daily orgasm as a cure for insomnia.

  But I’m late. Really late. Too late for a shower, with barely time to get ready, I literally fall into my clothes and bolt out of the door, grabbing my keys and bag as I dash to the car.

  Damn, I had been looking forward to having my own little happy time again and now I can’t. Shit!

  As I arrive late for work, the sound of my phone has me scrambling to find it.

  Don’t forget Jackson’s tonight. I’ll pick you up. Phil

  No, no, no! I can’t believe how this day is going already, and it’s only 9:10 a.m. Phil’s dinner plans for tonight had completely slipped my mind. Not surprising as we don’t talk. I’m astonished that Phil still wants me to go with him. I shouldn’t be. He does this. Having a wife is convenient for social gatherings with his work colleagues.

  I’m not going to be able to complete the homework. A slight panic at displeasing Seb washes over me and I have butterflies in my tummy.

  Perhaps if I text Seb and explain I’ll be able to make up for it tomorrow. Asking Seb for permission to come seems an alien concept… but also rather naughty. How does he manage to keep his command over me and my desires even when he’s not with me? It’s 11:30 before I work up the courage to text him.

  Hi, Seb, I had a bit of a disaster this morning and didn’t get a chance to take a shower. I’ve got to be out tonight and so won’t be able to find time to finish my homework today. Can I make up for it tomorrow instead? Izzy

  Isabel, that would be breaking the rules. Have you had your lunch break yet? S

  Why does he want to know when lunch is? Perhaps he could meet me and help me out?

  No. Taking lunch in 30 minutes. Izzy

  He leaves me hanging until the half hour is up.

  Go straight to your office bathroom, find a quiet cubical and complete your homework there. S

  Did he really just ask me to make myself come in the toilet at work?

  I shake my head and pick up my bag. After a quick glance left and right, I stand up. The ridiculous feeling that people will know what I’m going to do dissipates as I enter the ladies. I open the end cubical and lock the door, mentally wrestling with myself. How is he controlling me like this? I want to. I want to do as he says.

  I sit and lower my knickers. I’m already turned on. In only a few days, my body has learned to expect this and has turned into some sex-hungry ball of neediness. The position doesn’t feel normal—my knickers stretched around my ankles—so I pull them off and put them on top of my bag. I run my finger between my legs and find my damp clit. What the hell am I doing? This is mad, but, but… I want to do it.

  I’ve never considered the naughty girl fantasy before, but I see the appeal. My phone buzzes with a new text and I know instantly it will be Seb.

  Are you doing as you’re told? S

  With one finger still rubbing my clit, I fumble and text back.

  Yes. I can’t believe you’ve got me doing this. Guess where my other finger is right now.

  Well done. Don’t forget to use some of those details I showed you at the table. Tap your clit, and let me know when you’ve come. S

  The mention of the table and the feel of my finger tapping on my clit launch a surge of desire through my already turned-on body. Hearing Seb’s voice in my head is enough to make me open my mouth to breathe in some much-needed air.

  I’m already close, picturing Seb and his hand showing me what to do. I close my eyes and imagine that I’m back at his dining room table, sitting in the chair, and rub my clit a little harder, tapping. I’m spanking my own clit. The soft vibrations add to my building orgasm. I bite my lip and try not to make a sound as I force myself over the edge and feel the release tingle and shiver through my body. I don’t want to open my eyes to focus on the absurd reality of my surroundings, but finally I do. I grab for my phone.

  Homework completed. I’m pleased you’re impressed. Izzy

  For the rest of the day, I can barely focus on what I have to accomplish. All of the want and desire that Seb brings out of me simmers under the surface, and I have a strange sort of satisfaction at actually impressing him with my naughty little act at lunchtime.

  Phil picks me up straight from work and sours my mood.

  “Hurry up, Iz, or we’re going to be late,” he snaps before I even have time to sit in the car.

  “Alright, I’m coming.”

  My mind races while I stare out of the window. The lights pass by in a blur of yellow and white. I don’t speak to Phil. I’m sulking because I don’t want to be here. I let out a long sigh. What happened between us that stopped us enjoying each other’s company? I’ve tolerated these evenings in the past, mainly in my attempt to show give and take in the relationship. Another area that Phil was content to take and never to give. I should have stood up to him before now about his behaviour.

  My thoughts do nothing to snap me out of this quiet spell, and luckily we arrive soon after.

  I’ve known Jackson for years. He works with Phil at the garage in the sales team, and his wife has always been pleasant. There are a couple of others I don’t know at the house, together with the area boss that I’ve met at the Christmas parties I’m also forced to attend.

  We are offered drinks and Phil abandons me, making a beeline for the other guests. I’m left holding my glass of wine, lingering at the door to the dining room.

  He knows these people, but I don’t. He hasn’t even introduced me. Do I not even warrant that anymore? I’m his invisible wife. We don’t go out together, don’t socialise together. We lead completely separate lives.

  A laugh brings my focus back to the room. The source of the laugh is a pretty blonde. Phil must know these other people well, or more accurately, the blonde. He sits on the arm of the sofa while she paws at his arm, clearly finding whatever they are talking about amusing.

  That’s my husband! The words pop into my head, but not with the venom or possession that should come from a wife. I don’t care. I watch another woman throw herself at my husband and I don’t care. Is she the one? I wonder if I were to get close to her would I smell the sickly scent that he couldn’t mask the other night? The correct reaction would be defensive jealousy, fury even. A smile spreads across my face when I realise I don’t care. Sebastian. I want to be with him, not stuck here tonight.

  It’s obvious that Phil isn’t always working or staying with Jackson when he says he is. My suspicions are confirmed. Again, I’m struck by my lack of reaction. I watch for a few moments longer before I’ve had enough. If Phil is going to drag me here, he’s going to have to deal with me.

  “So, are you going to introduce me?” I smile my sweetest smile at Phil and see everything I need
to know in his eyes. Resentment flashes in them before he covers it over. He doesn’t want me near her. Well, tough. I don’t want to be here at all, so deal with it.

  “Um… yeah. This is Sophie. Sophie, this is Iz.”

  I aim my smile at her to see how she deals with me.

  “Hi,” is all she replies. She’s unable to look me in the eye and I recognise the guilt in her posture. I can’t understand why Phil would drag me here if he knew Sophie would be here. Why introduce his wife to the woman he must be sleeping with?

  The rest of the evening is uneventful, but I’m now stewing in my own mixed-up thoughts and I am not pleasant company.

  Phil clearly doesn’t want me and is very obviously into someone else prettier than me, taller than me, and much more curvy. I’ve supported him for years and tried to do everything right, so how have I ended up here, not caring that he’s rubbing his bit-on-the-side in my face? Why are we still together?

  The ride home is silent. I go straight to bed. My mind churns and my guilt changes into some unnamed emotion, something different, which keeps me awake.

  Phil climbs into bed with me and his hand creeps under my t-shirt. I remain still, shocked at his behaviour.

  “What are you doing?” I’m certainly not in the mood for anything physical.

  “Come on, Iz. I haven’t had anything from you in months. You were asking for a lot more than a little sex a few weeks ago. Come here. It’ll be good.” He rolls towards me and kisses my neck. My body tenses and I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want this. Not you… You don’t know what I need or what I want. You don’t even want me. But how can I say no to my husband? He’ll know something’s wrong, and I’m not strong enough to lie to him. Not tonight. Not how I’m feeling. God, I don’t even know how I feel.

  “Phil, not tonight. I’m tired and you barely talked to me all evening. You were too busy flirting with that blonde woman. You can’t turn me on like a light switch.” I try to sound as gentle as I can, but he won’t listen to the tone of my voice.

  “Iz, come on.” He tries once more and my anger boils through my veins.

  “No. I said no. Not tonight. Just… let me be, Phil.” I roll over and curl in on myself, hoping that’s the end of it.

  “You can be a real bitch, you know, Iz? One minute you want me to spank you while having sex and the next you don’t want me to touch you? What’s up with that? And before you throw me out, I’m sleeping in the spare room. Don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me in the same bed as you.” He throws back the covers and storms out. The door slams. Possibly on whatever is left of our marriage.

  That’s not fair! I scream at him in my head. I don’t know what to think at the moment. I don’t want to be with Phil. I can’t be with him while I’m with Seb. I’m cheating on Phil and I know that’s not right. In principle it’s not right, but I don’t want to be unfaithful to Seb while I’m with him. How can I have such conflicting thoughts and feelings at the same time? How can I be thinking I should be faithful to someone other than my husband?

  Tears seep from my eyes as I wrap my arms around myself, trying to calm and console my heart. All I really want is for Seb’s strong arms to wrap me up and make everything go away. He can’t, though. He’s only showing me a physical need I have. He wants me happy, having a little fun and showing me something new. He’ll walk away when he’s had enough, and I’ll be left to try to pick up the pieces.

  Wednesday

  I wake before my alarm and listen to determine whether Phil is anywhere in the house. It’s all quiet, so I creep out of bed. As I peek around the doorframe, I still hear nothing. He must have gone to work already, so I go back into the bedroom and start the day. After the fight with Phil, my enthusiasm to pleasure myself has been waning. Guilt has gnawed at my insides that I’m happy to let another man instruct me to come, but won’t let my husband touch me. Still… I don’t want to let Seb down. I can’t. There isn’t a future where I can see Phil and I still together. Phil has already moved on, and I think her name is Sophie. I should have finished things before I even met Seb—but hey. The hands on the clock won’t give me a pass and turn back just for me.

  I start the shower and resolutely try to change my feelings. I won’t let last night ruin everything. Today is a new day and maybe Phil and I can be civilised and talk about last night—talk about our problems and our future. There isn’t a future that ends happily with Phil.

  The water is hot, and I drench myself under the stream before I reach for the body wash. As soon as my hands start to wash, I recognise the tingling throughout my body. I’m already twitching to get off, to release the tension, to forget about everything and get lost in sensation.

  I move my hand down, now familiar with the actions that will get my heart beating and my body aching. My fingers slide down and dip into my waiting pussy. I close my eyes to the water and relax into the now familiar feeling.

  “What the fuck, Iz?” Phil shouts through the shower door at me. My eyes snap back open. My hand retracts and covers my body, startled and embarrassed at being caught touching myself. Even through the fogged glass, it would be clear where my hand was.

  “I’m just finishing in the shower, Phil. Give me a minute.” I try to even out my voice and turn my back to the glass and away from Phil.

  “I don’t believe you. You won’t let me touch you but you’re rubbing yourself off like a cheap slut in the shower the next morning? What’s gotten into you? You’re a selfish bitch.”

  The humiliation I felt when I first asked Phil to spank me is suddenly all I feel.

  “I’m not a selfish bitch. We can talk tonight. I’ll be late for work. Please?” My fumbled words sound meagre and weak, and I hate myself for not being stronger. Just for now. Let it be enough for now. I can’t face Phil now, not naked in the shower, trying to fulfil another man’s wishes. Wanting to fulfil another man’s wishes.

  He doesn’t respond, and after what seems like hours, I finally turn around. Phil’s gone and the bathroom is empty. I turn the shower off and dry myself quickly. I pull on the first work outfit I come to and scurry down the stairs.

  “Phil?” I call out, and hope that I can at least say something to him before I head to work. There’s no response. The guilt rumbles in my stomach for everything I’m doing. The dread of having a conversation with Phil to explain my actions makes me feel sick. What can I possibly say to explain? Sorry, Seb, but I don’t think that I’m going to get to finish my homework today.

  The workday seems to pass at an excruciatingly slow pace. As usual, when I want or need the time to pass quickly, the clock conspires against me. I barely speak to anyone during the day and keep my head down, hoping I can get an early exit.

  Will Phil even talk to me, hear me out? Hear me out about what? What am I going to say, exactly? That I don’t want him to touch me or be with me, and that I want someone else? Seb. Seb knows what my body craves—what I need—and gives it to me willingly. Thoughts of my marriage are grey and hazy. I don’t want to stay married, yet I can’t quite bring myself to end things. Why can’t I?

  Tears well in my eyes as I suddenly realise the enormity of the conversation that is looming. Is Phil as unhappy as I am? I am deeply unhappy.

  All of the raw and painful feelings constrict my chest and I struggle to hold the tears back. I’ve been unfaithful because I couldn’t cope with the constant neglect and lack of affection. I needed something else, something more, and couldn’t simply sit back any longer. I naively thought that none of last week’s actions would have such a profound emotional effect on my relationship with Phil. Finally, I am waking up and feeling alive. I want to do everything that Seb instructed me to do. At the same time, Phil and I are growing further apart.

  I decide that I can no longer sit and stew at my desk about all the mights and maybes that await me at home. I need to take responsibility for my actions and confront Phil. I gather my things from my desk, shove my laptop into my bag, and head for the door. As I
’m leaving, my phone buzzes in my pocket and my stomach rolls in response, anticipating a tirade from Phil.

  Isabel, I haven’t heard from you all day, and with your recent eagerness I wanted to check in on your homework. I hope you’re enjoying yourself? S

  Shit! No, not now… I can’t deal with both men. My head is literally going to explode with everything crashing around in it.

  Sorry, today’s not been a good one. I’ll txt later. Izzy

  Izzy, are you okay? S

  Izzy… He wants to make sure I’m okay. But I’m not. I’m not okay, Seb, and I don’t really know what to do right now. Can you guide me through this as well? My wishful plea turns my stomach. How can I be thinking that? I’m being a spoiled little girl who needs to grow up.

  I’ll txt u later, OK? Got to go.

  The entire way home, I can’t settle. My feet tap. My fingers drum. Shifting and fidgeting doesn’t calm my racing heart. I park the car and walk up to the front door. As I push it open, I take a very deep breath on yet another threshold, this one somewhat unwelcome.

  “I’m in here, Iz.”

  Please don’t be mad. Please don’t hate me. God, what am I going to say? I peek into the front room and see him in the chair, watching sports on the TV.

  “Hi,” I mumble, unsure of my own voice.

  “So… You said we need to talk. Where do you want to start?”

  “I don’t know really. I couldn’t do it this morning.”