by Sarah Curtis
Ali sighed against his chest, letting out a relieved breath. "I didn't like having them there either."
He planted a quick kiss atop her head. "I'm going to grab a shower. Now that you've brought it to my attention, I can smell the perfume, and it's giving me a headache."
She watched her husband walk up the stairs, feeling better than she'd had in weeks. Then making sure everything was locked and turning off all the lights, she followed him.
≈≈≈≈
Ali panted out Garrett's name as her orgasm rippled through her. Morning sex. Nothing better. Her whole body tingled, and her toes curled, digging into the mattress as Garrett thrust into her two more times before coming with a shout.
He buried his face in her neck, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close and keeping him inside her.
After a few minutes, their breathing slowed and his lips went on an exploration up her neck until they found her ear. "How about I go out and get some donuts and pick you up some of that fancy coffee you like so much?"
"Mmm... That sounds like heaven."
His chuckle filled her ear. "Then you need to let go of me, baby."
She unwrapped her arms and legs and lay like a wet noodle as she watched Garrett disappear into the bathroom. A minute later, she heard the water turn on. She stretched, knowing she should get up. The kids would be awake soon, Emma probably already was. She was good about playing in her room and letting Mommy and Daddy sleep in on the weekends, but she did have an end to her patience.
Ali heard the water shut off and knew that was her cue to get her lazy butt out of bed. Pulling clean clothes from the dresser, she carried them to the bathroom, passing Garrett going out as she went in.
She was just stepping out of the shower when Garrett yelled through the door. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Okay. Don't forget to buy a pink donut with rainbow sprinkles for Emma and Noah likes the maple bars."
"I remember."
She didn't bother with blow drying, instead throwing her wet hair into a knot at the top of her head. Ready to face the day, she left the room to go round up her kids.
Two hours later, Ali paced the living room unsure whether to be angry or worried that Garrett hadn't come home yet. She'd sent the kids out to play in the backyard after feeding them cold cereal when they'd complained they were hungry and had made herself a pot of coffee.
She'd tried calling after he'd been gone for an hour, knowing it couldn't possibly take longer than that to go to the donut store and the coffee shop. Not even if he'd waited for them to hand make a fresh batch of donuts and milk a cow before creating her latte. Okay, so it might take an hour if he had to wait for them to milk a cow. But that was beside the point. The point was, his phone had gone straight to voicemail.
The freshly buried doubts once more rose to the surface with each minute that passed, causing her over active imagination to kick into overdrive.
Stopping in front of the sliding-glass doors on her trek across the living room, she peeked out to check on the kids. They were playing catch with an over-sized inflatable beach ball. She watched as Noah sailed it through the air and Emma—the ball almost as big as she was—missed it by a mile.
She smiled, enjoying their antics until she heard the garage door slam. Turning from the window, she waited for Garrett to enter the living room.
"Where have you been?" she asked as soon as Garrett appeared, carrying a large pink box with a tray of four drinks balanced on top.
His head swiveled to where she was standing. His hair was windblown as if he'd driven with the window open and his lips were tipped up into a small smile. "Donuts and coffee."
"And it took two hours?"
He progressed into the kitchen and she followed. "I stopped by the paint store, too. I needed a few extra gallons to finish the playroom."
"Why didn't you tell me? I was starting to worry."
He frowned. "I didn't know I was going to go. I passed it on the way to the donut shop. It was a last minute decision."
"And your phone? Why didn't you call? I was worried something had happened to you." She knew she was giving him the third degree and being ridiculous but couldn't seem to stop.
He patted his pants pockets. "Guess I left it at home." His head tilted as he took the few steps to her and nabbed her around the waist, kissing her on the forehead, the tip of her nose, then taking her lips in a deep kiss. "Sorry, I worried you."
She closed her eyes, her arms reaching around his waist, and her head hitting his chest as he pulled her in for a tight hug.
It wasn't until later that night, unable to sleep, she realized she never did see the paint he claimed to have bought.
≈≈≈≈
"You want to do what?" Mia spoke in a low voice to avoid detection from their yoga instructor, but it was clear and strong, emphasizing she wasn't the least bit affected by their exercise.
Ali's stomach, on the other hand, was starting to burn from holding a low boat pose for so long. She really needed to do the yoga thing a bit more on the regular. If her screaming muscles were any indication, she was out of shape.
She'd just shared the events of the last couple of days, leaving nothing out, not even her thoughts and how she'd truly believed everything Garrett had told her. At least until she was lying in bed unable to fall asleep where she had again flip-flopped, unsure whether he'd told the truth. She wasn't proud of her behavior, but she also didn't want to come out looking like a chump when all was said and done.
The last thing she wanted was to be that wife, the one who had no clue of her husband's infidelity until everyone but her knew. The one everyone whispered about, saying, how could she not have known? The signs were all there.
Answering Mia's question, she said, "It's the only way I'll have peace of mind. Checking out Mr. Johnson secretary will tell me one way or the other whether Garrett was telling me the truth. I can't live with this doubt hanging over our marriage." Her legs were starting to shake, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold the pose.
"Okay, everyone, plow pose." The instructor's voice floated through the room.
Ali breathed a sigh of relief as she fell to her back, but with her legs still in the air, her poor stomach muscles were still screaming.
She turned her head Mia's direction. Her friend looked deep in thought. "What are you thinking?" Ali asked through gritted teeth, determined not to drop her legs until they were instructed to.
"I'm thinking this plan you've cooked up is batty as hell."
Ali opened her mouth to defend her position, but Mia continued before she could speak.
"But if you're really going through with it, you know I've got your back."
Ali gave her friend a smile. "Thanks. You're the best."
≈≈≈≈
The following morning, decked out in business attire, Mia and Ali stepped into the lobby of the Trident building, the home of Peterson, Monroe, and Johnson.
"Who knew we cleaned up so well." Mia gave Ali the once-over. "Where in the heck did you find that suit?"
"In the back of my closet. I wore it to Aunt Josephine's funeral three years ago." Ali gave Mia the same once-over. "What about you? Where'd you get that getup?"
Mia rolled her eyes and shivered. "I borrowed it from my mother-in-law. She's ecstatic because she thinks my lazy-ass is going on a job interview. The lazy-ass part are my words, not hers."
Ali snorted. They both knew Mia was one of the least lazy people they knew. Three kids ranging in age from seven to two would keep anyone on their toes.
Mia was staring at her head.
"What?" she asked, craning her neck away when Mia's face got too close.
"I was just wondering how you did that to your hair."
Ali had tamed her flyaway blonde locks with an extra helping of gel then put it in a complicated twist while it was still wet. "Just be glad we don't need to go through a metal detector. I think they'd alert S.W.A.T with the amount of bobby pin
s I have in my hair."
Mia laughed before putting her game face on. "We need to hurry. Mark needs to leave in an hour to give a presentation, and I promised we'd be back by then."
Mark was a saint. An architect who mostly worked from home, he always watched the girls when Ali and Mia had something to do. Looking around the crowded lobby, Ali spotted a directory on the far wall and started for it.
"Slow down Speed Racer. I haven't had my lesson in walking in heels yet."
Slowing her step, Ali looked to her friend. "You just said we needed to hurry."
"Yes, but me braking an ankle won't do anyone any good."
Ali rolled her eyes before scanning the directory. "Okay, this is our cover story—"
"We need a cover story?" Mia interjected.
Ali gave her the look she used on Emma when her three-year-old said something unbelievable. "Every good scheme needs a cover story. Now, hush up and let me finish."
Ali explained "The Plan." After finding the location of Johnson's office on the map, they randomly selected a name from the directory.
"Trust me, it'll come in handy," Ali said, taking Mia's hand and leading her to the elevators.
They hopped on and took it to the fifth floor.
"I think it's this way." Mia pointed down the hall to the right once the elevator doors parted and they stepped out.
The smell hit Ali as soon as they opened the door. Cloying perfume. Looked as though they were in the right place. "We'll check out the secretary, then leave," Ali whispered as they snaked through the door
"Ten-four."
Ali snorted, shaking her head.
The office was nice if a bit outdated. Plush carpeting. Dark walls. Decorative prints. And a massive oaken desk, looking even larger compared to the little old lady sitting behind it. A plaque on her desk announced her name as Mrs. Dickerson.
Ali had never felt such relief. At least Garrett had been telling the truth about something.
"Can I help you, ladies?" Mr. Johnson's secretary's ruby-red lips turned up into a denture revealing smile.
Enacting the plan, Ali answered, "We're looking for Mr. Butterman's office."
"Oh, dear. I'm afraid you have the wrong floor. He's up on seven."
Ali grabbed Mia's hand. "I'm terribly sorry. We must've read the directory wrong. Please excuse us." She backed them to the door.
"No problem, dear. I get confused all the time. Why, just this morning, I couldn't find my glasses. Searched for over an hour and they were around my neck the whole time."
Ali opened the door and ushered Mia out before they both exploded into giggles.
≈≈≈≈
Ali poked her head out of the bathroom door to check the time on the digital clock at the side of the bed. She was running late. Garrett would be home any minute, and she wasn't even dressed yet.
She'd been so relieved after leaving Johnson's office—discovering Garrett hadn't lied about his secretary—she'd called her husband the minute she'd gotten home and told him not to be late coming home because she had something special planned for him.
Dinner for two at their favorite French restaurant.
She'd tried to stay on schedule, but her mother-in-law had talked her ear off when she'd dropped off the kids, and short of being rude, she couldn't stop her mid-sentence and rush out the door. Not when she'd been so nice, agreeing to babysit the kids last minute on a Monday night. Especially knowing she'd have them again that weekend for their monthly sleepover.
And, of course, she'd had to pop into her favorite boutique and buy a new dress. In the mood to look sexy and flirty, she wanted something that would drive Garrett wild.
That left her rushing through her hair and makeup and at the rate her hands flew, she'd be fortunate if she didn't take out an eye with the mascara wand or burn her forehead with the curling rod.
Lotioned, powdered, and spritzed, she hurried from the bathroom and crashed into a solid chest. Garrett's hands came out, snagging her waist as hers came up, grasping the lapels of his jacket.
"Please tell me this is my surprise." He was looking down at her, but his gaze wasn't lingering on her face, his attention was snagged on her breasts overflowing the cups of her new red, lace demi bra."
"Sorry, but no, I..." Her words faltered as a single finger came up to trace the swells of her breasts.
"New bra?" he asked, seemingly fixated on the delicate, lace edging.
"I, um, bought it today, along with a new dress."
"I like it."
His finger slowly circled her nipple through the satin fabric, and she felt it pucker under his touch. Need hit her hard and strong, and she wondered how she could become so turned on by a single digit and a heated stare.
"I wonder if I can make you come with just one finger." The previously mentioned finger moved down the plane of her stomach, stopping to dip suggestively into her navel.
Her fingers tightened on his lapels. "I wouldn't be opposed to finding out."
His chuckle rumbled like a caress over her skin, creating goose bumps down her arms. His finger trailed lower, stopping at the elastic of her panties to play along its edge. "These are new, too."
"They're..." She cleared away the frog of desire clogging her throat. "They're a matching set."
His eyes bore into hers, heated and stormy with hunger. He applied pressure with his finger, pressing it into her abdomen. "Step back, Ali."
She took a step back, and his nostrils flared. She knew he liked when she followed his demands without protest.
"Another."
It was a sharp command that had her nipples tightening and her sex clenching. She took another step back.
"One more, baby." He went back to using a husky, low tone, and she wasn't sure which one excited her more.
She took another step, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of the bed.
"Now sit and spread your legs."
He stepped in closer, and she had to tilt her head back to watch from her seated position as he shrugged from his jacket then tossed it on the bed beside her. His long, strong fingers next tackled the knot in his tie, loosening it and undoing the top three buttons of his shirt before moving on to his cuffs, after which he rolled up his forearms.
Garrett squatted between her parted thighs, and she followed his movements, keeping him in sight. His pointer hooked under the gusset of her panties, exposing her to his greedy eyes.
They licked their lips simultaneously.
"Pity, I said I would only touch you with one finger. I find myself suddenly craving a taste. But wait." He slid a finger through her folds and entered her wetness. Pulling his finger back out, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean. "Problem solved."
God, that was hot. She licked her lips again, craving his. She loved what he could do with his mouth. Lips that looked hard but were incredibly soft with the bottom one a bit fuller than the top. His tongue, a warm, slick, powerful muscle that loved to tease her mercilessly. His teeth he used, not to inflict pain but exquisite pleasure.
An arrogant smirk formed on said mouth, as if he could read her thoughts, before his finger was back, slipping into her and curling to find the spot he knew drove her wild.
"So much I can do with just one finger." He pulled his finger back out, slick with her wetness, and slid it down into the seam of her ass.
She knew his objective. He knew she liked it. There hadn't been much they haven't tried in their seven years of marriage, but his progress was hampered by the bed. With a growl, he commanded, "Lie back."
He hooked the waistband of her panties, pulling down one side before doing the same to the other. Once past her hips, they easily slid the rest of the way down her legs.
She wasn't sure who this one finger thing was more torturous for—him or her.
"Feet flat on the bed, legs wide. I'm going to make you come now. I'm so fucking hard, I need to be inside you."
Guess that answered her question.
His finger went str
aight for her clit. Yeah, he wasn't fooling around now. He circled it, applying pressure. "Come fast for me, baby. My cock wants to come out and play." His voice was laced with the edginess of his impatience.
She raised her hips off the bed, wanting closer to his touch. "I need more than just your finger."
"No, you don't."
He kept at a steady rhythm, and she felt her climax building. "Oh, God, it's starting. Don't stop what you're doing."
"I wasn't planning on it." He sounded a bit distracted, and she caught him working at the waistband of his slacks in her periphery.
She closed her eyes and rolled her hips to the tempo of his finger as her orgasm crested, hovering right at the edge until with a shout of his name she spiraled down.
She felt him slam into her, and she opened her eyes to find his intense gaze looking down at her as the last of her orgasm milked his cock. He moved in and out, and it wasn't long before his whole body stiffened with the roar of her name punctuating his final thrust.
His mouth landed on her neck, sucking in a bit of flesh before moving to her lips for a deep kiss.
They never made it to dinner, but she did get to wear her new dress—for about three seconds.
≈≈≈≈
Thursday started off normal, in fact, the last two days had been practically blissful with no mysterious phone calls or annoying beeping texts. Which was why when Ali had collected the dry cleaning from the hamper in the closet she'd been thrown for such a loop. Though she shouldn't have been. It'd been her own fault. She'd let her defenses down.
Lifting out articles of clothing and shoving them into a travel bag, she felt something crinkle in the pocket of one of Garrett's slacks. The pair he'd worn the day he didn't have his phone so couldn't take notes on his planner. The day he'd had dinner with Mr. Johnson.
Worried it might be something important, she reached her hand in, pulling out a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it. A name, date, time, and place were written in her husband's scrawl.
All the reassurances her husband had imparted went flying out the window as she stared at the note. The letters that spelled out the name of a fancy hotel started to blur, and she blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes. She tried to think of some reason her husband would need to meet a woman named Serena at such an expensive and classy establishment.