The Saint's Wife

by Lauren Gallagher

  He withdrew a little, and they both moaned against each other’s lips. As he pushed back in, her whole body trembled.

  “Oh my God,” he groaned, starting to pick up speed again. “Fuck. You feel…amazing.”

  Joanna just held on tighter. She hooked her leg around his and rocked her hips to complement his. Hot tears slipped down her cheeks, and she couldn’t begin to tell if it was just her body or if she was really this emotionally overwhelmed, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t even care if she broke down crying. It felt too damned good to feel something, anything, and everything she felt in David’s arms was just perfect.

  “Oh, shit…” As he buried his face in her hair, he slid his hands under her back and hooked them over her shoulders, and he used that leverage to fuck her deeper and harder and faster. He moaned softly and shivered again. “Fuck, Joanna…”

  She dug her nails into his shoulders and rocked her hips harder, and he shuddered violently, breaking his rhythm for a split second before he recovered and moved even faster.

  And that was all it took. He gripped her shoulders tighter, fucked her so hard it almost hurt and then forced himself as deep as she could take him, groaned and shuddered. She didn’t stop rocking her hips, though, moving them as much as possible with his body pinning her to the bed, and he gasped and shivered as she drew his orgasm out.

  “S-stop,” he finally pleaded, and when she did, he collapsed over her and panted hard against her neck. Joanna wrapped her arms around him. For the longest time, she just stroked his hair while they calmed down.

  There was no guilt or shame this time. She wasn’t proud of what they’d done, but whether it was right or wrong didn’t matter in that moment. Nothing did.

  Nothing except lying here.

  Holding him.

  And breathing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  David got up just long enough to get rid of the condom and then came back and pulled the covers up over them. He lay on his back, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. They were silent, but the stillness was comfortable.

  Even though it shouldn’t have been.

  She’s your best friend’s wife.

  Your “best friend” knocked up your wife.

  Two wrongs don’t make a right.

  Joanna deserves better than him.

  David stared up at the ceiling. In spite of the thoughts swirling inside his head, he didn’t feel guilty. This would be hell to explain if Chris ever found out, but David didn’t regret it. A few times tonight, his conscience had tried to intervene, but that had stopped when he’d taken off her wedding rings. The bands had come off too easily, sliding over her finger as if it were nothing. In the space between gold and skin, he could almost hear Chris’s constant criticism and pointed scowls, the never-ending refusal to accept his wife’s figure. How Chris had ever found any imperfection in her body, David would never understand. She was beautiful.

  And regardless of how she looked, Joanna deserved better. Well before David had too easily slipped those rings off her hand, he’d been determined to give her better, even if it was just one night of passion and affection. Even if she deserved so much more than that.

  Joanna stirred a little and exhaled across his skin.

  “Still awake?” he asked.

  “Sort of.”

  His heart clenched—those two noncommittal words were loaded with a million emotions that shouldn’t have been in a room with two naked lovers, but fit right in when those two lovers shouldn’t have been entangled like this. “You okay?”

  “Are you?”

  Closing his eyes, he pressed a tender kiss onto the top of her head. “I don’t know.”

  “This is so wrong,” she whispered. “But to be perfectly honest, I don’t care.”

  He watched himself run his fingers along her arm. “Neither do I. I feel like I should care, but after the way he’s treated you?” David held her just a little tighter. “Fuck him. This is perfect.”

  “Yeah, it—”

  His phone chirped to life on the floor, muffled by the clothes on top of it. “Christ…”

  “Do you need to get that?”

  “No. It’s just—” His teeth snapped shut. It was just the person he didn’t want to be talking to right then. “Uh…”

  Her lips tightened. “Chris?”

  David nodded. “He can talk to my voice mail.” He kissed her forehead. “I really don’t want to move.”

  “Neither do I.” She trailed her fingertips up and down his arm. “Like I was saying a minute ago, I know this is wrong, but I really don’t want it to be over yet.”

  “It isn’t.”

  The phone finally stopped ringing. Chris was undoubtedly tapping his fingers, waiting for the recording to end so he could leave his message. And tonight, that recording may as well have said, You’ve reached David’s phone, but I’m currently in bed with Chris McQuaid’s wife. Leave a message, and I’ll call you back after I make her come a few more times.

  David cringed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Besides the obvious?”

  Joanna sighed.

  So did he. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “I know.” She cuddled closer to him, draping her arm across his stomach. He pulled the covers up higher, and clasped his hands together on top of her arm. Neither spoke. Neither moved. If he was ashamed of anything right then, it was the fact that he wasn’t ashamed. But he just didn’t give a damn anymore. He could see now that she’d given her marriage everything she had, and now she deserved better. And so did he. And they had better—each other.

  On the floor, David’s phone chirped softly, letting him know he had a message.

  “Any idea what he wants at this hour?”

  “Could be anything.” David sighed, stroking her hair. “He calls me a lot when he can’t sleep.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmhmm. He gets ideas and practically gets manic over them.”

  Joanna drew back a little and looked up at him. “Doesn’t he expect you to sleep at some point?”

  He laughed. “You would think.”

  “Will he get upset if you don’t call him—”

  David silenced her with a kiss. “Don’t worry about him.”

  “That’s easier said than done.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Believe me, I know.”

  Joanna pushed out a breath. “Maybe I should go. If he’s awake, then he might…I don’t know. He’ll probably be waiting up when I get home.”

  David stiffened. “He will?”

  “He always does.” She laughed bitterly. “He’ll want to know where I went, who I was with.” She craned her neck as if looking at something on the floor, then settled on the pillow again. “Why I was dressed like a whore.”

  “A whore?” He almost choked on the word. “You looked amazing in that dress.”

  “Opinions differ on that subject.”

  David rolled his eyes. “I honestly have no idea where Chris gets his ideas about what women should look like.”

  “Well, I’m guessing he doesn’t like his wife or any of his mistresses dressing like the girls he pays for lap dances.”

  David’s lips parted. “What?”

  “You didn’t know about those?”

  “Uh…” He definitely knew about the strippers. He’d spent plenty of late nights partying with Chris, who’d always lamented that Joanna wasn’t nearly as fun as Alexandra, who’d joined them more often than not. David’s stomach twisted. Alexandra was completely straight, but she’d always insisted she loved getting lap dances because they turned him on. Lying here now, he couldn’t help wondering if they were really meant for him…

  He shook himself. “I…yeah. I knew. He said you weren’t into strip clubs.”


  She laughed. “Actually, I love them. And he knows it. That’s why he never invited me along. He didn’t think it was an appropriate thing for his wife.”

  “But it was okay for a married man?”

  “Who knows?” She rubbed her eyes and then rested her hand on David’s chest. “I asked him once, and he had some bullshit explanation, but I kind of tuned him out.” She lifted her chin a little to meet his eyes. “I started doing that a lot. That’s how I knew my marriage was over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When he’d explain himself, or he’d lecture me about something I did or something I should do, and I’d just…check out.” She shrugged with one shoulder. “I didn’t care anymore. I was exhausted, and I didn’t have the energy to try to wrap my head around Chris’s fucked-up logic.”

  David exhaled. Chris could be insanely frustrating as a business partner, especially when his mind latched on to something and he started bending logic and reality until his idea made sense, but David couldn’t imagine being married to that. Especially when the logic and reality he was bending resulted in a hypocritical existence—a man who’d put hundred dollar bills in a dozen different G-strings along with his married lover, and then go home and tell his own wife she looked like a whore in a sexy but modest black dress.

  His phone beeped again.

  Joanna cringed. David swore under his breath. A million reasons hovered above and around them, from the impatiently chirping phone to the quiet knowledge of how many vows they were breaking, but they still didn’t let each other go.

  After a while, she said, “You get why I’m here, right?”

  “I think anyone in your position would’ve done something like this eventually.”

  “But still, it’s…” She swallowed. “I’m not here as a ‘fuck you’ to Chris, or for revenge, or…”

  “Joanna, look at me.”

  She lifted her gaze, and something in her expression gave him pause. The pleading in her eyes, the tightness in her features—it all came down to one thing that may as well have been written across her face in bright red ink: I just need someone to understand me.

  There was nothing he could say. No way he could put into words that he got it, and that, if anything, he was amazed she’d made it this far. That she’d been so strong for so many years when anyone else would have caved in. But every word that came to the tip of his tongue sounded useless and impotent. Nothing could sum up how much he understood her, and how much he admired her for holding it together this long. Or how much he was starting to see just what an idiot Chris really was.

  You didn’t even let her slip through your fingertips, Chris. You discarded her like trash.

  She’s amazing. She’s beautiful. She’s incredible.

  What were you thinking?

  “David?” Her forehead creased. “You went quiet.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I…”

  Didn’t know how to say that while your husband wasn’t looking, I fell in love with you.

  Oh my God.

  I did, didn’t I?

  “David?”

  “Nothing,” he whispered, and he curved a hand around the back of her neck as he moved in for a kiss.

  She didn’t object. She held him, and she let herself be held, and she gave as good as she got—kissing him with a fervor that steadily ramped up, as if this was a kiss that was going to lead to more. And God, he hoped it would. He wanted more of her. All of her. All night long.

  Guilt tried to creep in, but it could wait. Like a hangover could wait till morning, so too could the shame and regret of sleeping with—and falling for—his best friend’s wife.

  Because tonight, she needed this. Right or wrong, vows or no, this woman had been starved of affection, love, attention—and all that was well before her husband got sick. She was chained to a man she couldn’t leave, one who’d been vicious and unfaithful to her for fifteen long years.

  And he needed it too. He needed her.

  She drew back and met his eyes. “I should probably go.”

  “Probably.” Heart sinking, David ran his hand up her arm. “But you don’t have to. Not yet.”

  She held his gaze, and the slowly forming smile on her lips told him she definitely wasn’t going anywhere yet.

  He lifted his head and kissed her. As he slid his fingers into her hair, he deepened the kiss.

  “I said I should go,” she murmured against his lips. “I didn’t say I was going.”

  “Good.” He shivered as her hip brushed his hardening cock. “Because I really, really want you to stay.”

  “Do you?”

  “Very much so.”

  “Then I will. One thing, though.”

  He tensed. “Hmm?”

  “You did all the work before.” She pushed him onto his back and climbed on top. “I think it’s your turn to lie back and enjoy it.”

  David could barely keep his eyes open during the next morning’s meeting. He’d thrown a 5-Hour Energy into an already supercharged espresso, but aside from tasting like ass, it hadn’t done a damned thing.

  He wasn’t surprised. Joanna had stayed until almost two in the morning. Even after they’d had sex three times, he couldn’t sleep—his conscience kept him staring into the darkness until well after five. Then he’d had a couple of fitful hours before he’d had to be at the downtown office in time to take his seat in the conference room.

  A company out of North Dakota was interested in buying out the section of Berserker Tech that manufactured game controllers, and though David and Chris had steadfastly refused every offer that had ever come their way, circumstances had led them to reconsider. Now the top brass for that organization was here, stating their case and pitching their offer, and it was all David could do not to faceplant on his tablet.

  He forced himself to focus. Death by PowerPoint could usually lull him into a coma anyway, but this was important. Damned important. The part of the company these folks were looking into was one of Chris’s pet projects, a peripheral sub-organization that David had never had much to do with. It was something that could easily be divested without damaging the bottom line. Shrinking the company slightly, refocusing it on its core product lines, and not cutting any jobs in the process.

  “So.” The CEO of the interested company gestured at the screen behind him. “Do you gentlemen have any questions?”

  David folded his hands on top of his tablet. “No, I think it was pretty straightforward. Chris?”

  Chris shook his head slowly. “Not at the moment, no.”

  David’s throat constricted. Chris practically made a hobby of grilling people during meetings, whether they were employees, potential buyers or just some poor sap who’d come by to sell air-conditioning filters.

  “Well.” David stood and extended his hand across the table. “We’ll certainly be in touch. Thank you for coming in.”

  Everyone shook hands and exchanged some small talk. Arrangements were made for Berserker Tech to take their visitors to lunch in a couple of hours, and in the meantime, the managers agreed to take them on a tour of the facility.

  Chris and David would catch up with everyone during lunch. For now, they headed back to their offices upstairs.

  And Chris didn’t say a word.

  Normally, he’d be talking a million miles a minute for hours after a meeting like that. Even if he wouldn’t consider their offer, he’d have a hundred new ideas or ways they could use the offer to their advantage, and he’d talk David’s ear off while David just fumbled around in search of more coffee.

  But he was silent this time.

  Walking with David and Hilary, all the way down the hall, up the elevator, down the next hall and into his office, he was silent.

  David’s gut was acidic with guilt. It was entirely possible Chris was just preoccupied. He had an appointment
with a specialist today, didn’t he? That was probably taking up his brain right now. Or maybe they’d started him on a new drug that slowed his thoughts down. Tired him out. Something.

  In the office, Hilary went to set her planner down on her desk.

  “Hilary, why don’t you grab an early lunch?”

  David’s lungs turned to lead. Oh. Shit.

  Hilary eyed her boss. “It’s…only nine thirty.”

  Chris threw her a look that was usually reserved for managers and other lesser mortals. She didn’t need to be told twice—she tucked her planner under her arm and hurried out of the office without even looking at David.

  The door clicked shut, leaving Chris and David alone.

  “You look exhausted.” The statement was quiet but laced with plenty of venom.

  Oh, I’m awake now.

  “Haven’t been sleeping.”

  “Is that right?”

  David resisted the urge to shift his weight. He was certain any gesture—swallowing, fidgeting, breathing—would tip his hand. “Don’t tell me you slept well with this meeting hanging over your head.” The reality of possibly selling off part of the company didn’t sit well with either of them. And he knew Chris had been awake until at least one because he had the voice mails to prove it.

  “So that’s all it was?” Chris asked coolly. “Worrying about the company?”

  “Aren’t you worried about it?” David shrugged. “Cutting away the controller product line will probably be good in the long run, but we both know—”

  “I won’t be around for the long run.”

  David winced.

  Chris eased himself into his chair. He took his time getting completely situated, then folded his hands in his lap and looked up at David. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, David. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

  Oh shit.

  “Lie? About what?”

  Something in his friend’s expression turned David’s blood to ice.

  David swallowed. “What’s this about?”