Julia's Second Collection

by Bridy McAvoy

  Jake smiled at her. “Of course you can. So you consider yourself an expert on the subject?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “But you do have experience of them?”

  Julia knew she’d lost control of the conversation, the heat in her cheeks providing her enough evidence that her blush was giving her away.

  Josie was almost rolling in her seat from laughter, and Ted joined in the questioning.

  “So, since you have, have you done it once, or more than once?”

  She knew they were just flirting, passing the time in the bar. If they got lucky and took a girl back to their respective hotel rooms, they’d consider it a good night. They’d probably consider it a good night if they didn’t, as long as they had a good time. Either way, it would beat the boredom of being in a strange hotel in a strange city with nobody to talk to.

  They seemed to recognize they might lose out if they kept up the questioning and changed the subject. Josie seemed a little upset about that, but she had turned her flirt setting up to max and within half an hour, the two sides of the booth were having separate conversations. Josie had clearly made her pick, Ted, and wasn’t shy about showing it. Their conversation was held in whispered tones and there was a lot of soft touching going on. Julia felt a bit like a spare part, but Jake just seemed amused.

  “I guess she’s made her choice. Looks like your friend is going to get lucky.”

  Jake chuckled. “I think you’re right, but let me be honest—I don’t know him at all.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Nope. I was standing at the bar when he tapped me on the shoulder and introduced himself. Then he said he was interested in the brunette if I didn’t mind being his wingman and keeping the redhead occupied. If I got lucky as well, then it was a good deal for both of us.”

  “So just how long did you spend setting this up?”

  He laughed again. “Two minutes.”

  “Two minutes?”

  “Yep. Then we heard part of your conversation and Ted told me to play it cool. He thought we were both onto a sure thing.”

  “And do you think that?” Her arch tone sent him into another fit of laughter.

  “No, but I think Ted is. She’s single. I’d already seen your wedding rings.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But the fact you participate in threesomes with your husband’s knowledge but not his participation does intrigue me.”

  “That’s all it’s going to do.”

  “Aren’t you going to explain it? I’d love to hear the details.”

  “Well, you won’t.”

  “Not even what it feels like to have a cock in your mouth and one buried balls deep in your pussy at the same time?”

  She shivered. The feeling of being double penetrated like that was still very fresh in her mind. “Don’t you think that’s a bit personal?”

  “No, not at all. You were talking about it in a hotel bar, after all.”

  There was the sound of movement from the other side of the booth, and they both turned their attention to Ted and Josie as they both slipped from the booth.

  “You okay, girlfriend?”

  “Sure, Josie.” She looked at Ted, letting him think she was memorizing what he looked like just in case. “You go have fun.”

  “Later, bro.”

  “Later.”

  The two left, and Julia quietly eased herself a little bit around the booth to give herself more space between her and Jake. Jake seemed amused and unperturbed.

  “Your friend is a fast worker.”

  “As I said, he’s not my friend. I only just met him. Josie, though, seemed taken with him.”

  “She will be.” They both laughed softly at her quip.

  “You want another drink, little miss threesome specialist?”

  “For the last time, I’m not a specialist.”

  “But you have done it?”

  She bit her lip and nodded. He already knew that much.

  “And your husband knew about it but wasn’t there?”

  “Yes. Now, please, change the subject.”

  He laughed. “I just find that strange, that’s all. Interesting. Intriguing.”

  * * * *

  Max guided her into the restaurant and, after a quiet word with the maitre’d, steered her toward a table where a lone guy was sitting, turned partly away from them. Max lowered his hand to her butt and gave her a little squeeze through her mandarin style green silk dress. She gave a little jump and turned her head to glare at him, but then realized his attention was focused beyond her.

  Turning back, she smiled as their dinner host rose from the table and turned to meet them. As soon as their eyes met, her smile died.

  “This is Jake Redonla. Jake, this is my wife Julia.”

  Jake smiled and she hoped he wouldn’t say anything about the night before. That hope was short-lived.

  “Hello, redhead. Nice to meet you again.”

  “You’ve already met?”

  “Yes, I had the pleasure of your wife’s company last night.”

  “Oh, indeed?”

  “Yes, I found out some very interesting things about her marriage last night. Unfortunately, she has a friend who talks too much when she’s had a skin-full. Josie had had a lot to drink last night. Special occasion?”

  Julia found her mouth had dropped open so shut it with an almost audible snap. “Her birthday.” She managed to answer his question, but in reality all she wanted to do was run away as fast as she could. Unfortunately, the tight knee-length dress worked like a hobble and would slow her down.

  The waiter held out a chair for her and she could do nothing other than sit down as Max took the third chair at the table. His eyes burned with questions but she couldn’t meet his eyes. After a few seconds, she flicked her gaze at his face and he was still staring at her. Now, though, the questions had gone from his eyes. He’d worked out what Jake had been talking about.

  Max knew Josie knew some details of what she’d done, indeed had been involved in one particular escapade, but he clearly hadn’t expected her to discuss them in a public bar—especially not in front of his new and very influential boss.

  * * * *

  He’d started as soon as they’d got back to the car. “Just what the fuck were you and Josie talking about?”

  “For some reason Josie started talking about threesomes.” Her voice sounded very small and timid in the car.

  “What? Threesomes? You talked about that in a public bar?”

  “I didn’t start it!”

  “So? You still admitted to it and Jake heard you?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “And how did he hear you?”

  “He was fucking well sitting next to me at the time! All right?”

  She couldn’t believe how messed up it sounded, and it was clear Max was getting madder by the second.

  “Just let’s get home, okay?”

  He shook his head. “My wife. My fucking wife was talking about her recent threesome while she was sitting in a bar with my fucking boss! I can’t fucking believe it! I told you we needed to make an impression on him!” He banged his hand on the steering wheel. “Some fucking impression! Fuck!”

  He started the car and pulled out of the lot.

  “Darling…”

  “Don’t you darling me. Don’t you fucking dare…”

  They drove the rest of the way home in total silence.

  * * * *

  Once they’d pulled into the garage, Julia expected Max to just storm into the house. He didn’t, surprising her by walking around the car and opening her door exactly as he always did. She smiled and murmured a thank you but realized he wasn’t looking at her. Her heart sank. For a moment she thought he might have gotten over it, but his expression showed that was not the case.

  Once he’d opened the front door and cancelled the alarm, he held that door open for her too. This time, she held back, making him look at her so he could see her smile. He l
ooked away, and there seemed to be no bend in him. She swept past him into the house as fast as she could. Given the way the mandarin style dress was so tight across her knees, it stopped her taking a full pace.

  “Max…”

  He walked past her and she heard the slither of material as his tie sailed across the family room, landing on a side table as he headed for the kitchen. She reached down and undid the bottom half of the poppers on the side of her dress to ease the tightness, allowing her to walk properly, and followed him. She wasn’t trying to appear sexy, but the new side split in her dress should at least catch his eye.

  He was just draining a tumbler and she could see the whisky bottle on the counter.

  “Want one?” His voice was cold and she shivered but nodded. He grabbed another glass from the cupboard and poured them both a generous slug then slid the glass along the counter top to her. Doing so kept some distance between them and Julia bit her lip, not sure how to deal with him in this mood.

  Picking her glass up, she tried another smile. “Thank you.”

  Max just shrugged, but that was more reaction than she’d got from him for the last half hour. She sipped her drink, watching as he poured his down as if it was beer. That wasn’t like Max at all and she could feel butterflies building in her stomach.

  “I’m going to bed.” He moved toward the doorway but she was quicker, reaching it and standing in his way.

  “Max, no.”

  “Why not?”

  She could feel tears building in her eyes, the image of him starting to blur as they started to cloud her vision.

  “You and I made a promise five years ago.”

  “We made several, I seem to remember.”

  Despite his tone, she ploughed on. “We promised each other we would never go to bed angry. We’d sit up, all night if necessary, to resolve it.”

  He forced a tight smile. “I seem to remember another promise earlier that day, in front of our families, to cleave to each other only.”

  She gasped and took a half step back, shock coursing through her system. Her hand came up to slap his face, wavered and fell away as fury took hold. Thirty seconds earlier she’d been desperate to patch up the row. Now that was forgotten. He’d lit the fuse and she went off like a bottle rocket.

  “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” She stepped forward again, squaring up to him despite her lack of height. “I seem to remember you said something else, and I seem to remember you encouraging me, even negotiating the deal with Steve and his mate. If that makes me an unfaithful whore then that makes you my pimp!”

  It was Max’s turn to step back and she turned on her heel and headed for the stairs.

  “You can sleep on the fucking couch if you want, or use one of the spare rooms, but you can fucking well stay out of my room, you twisted bastard!”

  Julia stormed upstairs, walking as fast as she could, desperate not to let her husband see her true feelings. Her fury had evaporated with her last words. She hadn’t really meant to exclude him from the bedroom, but she was pretty sure he’d take her at her word. She choked back a sob before it became audible and hurled herself through the bedroom door. Slamming the door shut, it felt like she rocked the house on its foundations—everything rattled. At least, as much as her marriage had just been rocked. Blindly, she reached for the locking button and pressed it.

  All the locks had slots that allowed them to be opened by a screwdriver or even a coin from the other side, but she knew the lock would be symbolic enough to him. He wouldn’t try and open it. Through eyes almost blinded by tears, she undid the side zip on the expensive silk dress, letting it fall to the floor. Throwing herself onto the bed, she pulled a pillow over her head and let the tears fall free.

  Julia woke with a start and, opening her eyes, saw the large red numerals on the alarm clock. It read three a.m. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She pulled the comforter over her shoulder and snuggled down. Wait, what comforter? The last thing she’d known she’d been laying on top of the bed, now she was in it. She didn’t remember that. The light had been on too and was now off. Struggling to a sitting position, she looked around the room. The door was open, but there were no lights on.

  She knew she’d left the light on and the door locked. Peering into the gloom, she could just make out a darker shape slumped in the chair in the corner next to her dresser. Relief flooded through her. Obviously Max had crept in, found she’d cried herself to sleep, and then covered her. She wriggled her toes. He’d even slipped her heels off. She hadn’t done that before the storm of weeping took her.

  Maybe, just maybe, they could get through this, after all.

  “Max.” Her whisper sounded loud in the quiet room but he didn’t stir. She tried again, a little louder this time. “Max!”

  Again there was no response, no movement. She fell back to the bed, realizing how worn she was from the tension of the evening, and the ensuing row. Closing her eyes, she started to drift off again, content that he was there—if not in her bed, at least there.

  * * * *

  The next time Julia woke up, sunlight streamed into the room. She stretched and, remembering where Max had been in the night, looked up to see if he had moved. Disappointment crashed through her. The shape on the chair was not what she thought it was. There were a couple of pillows stacked there, with her silk dress laid across the top of them. In broad daylight it looked far less like a man than it had in the dark.

  She bit back a sob and looked around the room. The comforter was across her, and her shoes were neatly lined up in front of her wardrobe. Seeing as she knew she hadn’t done that, nor put her dress on the chair, it did at least mean Max had checked she was all right, but he hadn’t stayed with her at three o’clock in the morning like she’d thought he had. His side of the bed was cold and empty and she shivered at the memory of the damage she’d done to her marriage the night before.

  Despite her explosion at Max, everything was her fault, not his. Well it was, wasn’t it? Guilt paralyzed her for a few seconds before she moved.

  Pushing back the covers, she looked down in dismay at her stockings. Sleeping in stockings was not a good look, and they had twisted around her legs. Sighing, she stripped off the remnants of last night’s underwear, tossing the stockings in the bin, and pulled her silk robe around her body. Her face was a mess. Going to sleep in her makeup was even worse than the stockings.

  She listened for sounds in the house, sounds that would show her Max was moving about, but she could hear nothing. With her makeup removed and her face at least semi-repaired, her hair a teased curly madness rather than pure bedhead, she ventured out of the bedroom. Quietly checking every room, she found the spare room Max had used, but it was now empty, the bedclothes pulled reasonably straight, but not perfect. That room, though, and the bathroom, as well as the rest of the rooms upstairs, was empty. She tried to be quiet on the stairs only to find the family room empty, then the kitchen, dining room, den and study—all empty. Peering out the kitchen window, she surveyed the back yard. It too was empty—no Max.

  Her heart was in her mouth as she opened the garage door, expecting to find his car gone, but no, it was still there. Returning to the kitchen, she surveyed her domain, puzzled by his absence. After a minute, she headed over to the coffee machine, finding it warm, and something lying on the floor just below it. Reaching down, she picked up a yellow post-it note and turned it over.

  Gone for a walk. Back soon. Coffee’s hot. Guess we need to talk. M

  She put two and two together. He must have attached the post-it note to the front of the coffee machine but the heat had dried out the adhesive and it had fallen off. Relief flooded through her system. At least he wanted to talk.

  Rather than grab a coffee, she flew back upstairs. If he wanted to talk, she wanted to at least be presentable when they did. First order of business was a shower, and then something to wear—not seductive, but not too plain either. Definitely not ratty, like her robe.

  * * * *r />
  Julia was back downstairs and sitting at the breakfast bar sipping a mug of coffee when the front door opened and her husband walked in. He had a carrier bag in one hand and a paper in the other, so he’d obviously stopped off at the shop on the way. Since that shop was at least a mile away, he’d definitely been for a long walk.

  “I see you found my note.”

  “Not to start with, no.” His tone had been cool rather than cold, so she replied in the same tone. Her stomach felt like a cloud of butterflies had taken wing from the moment the door handle had turned. They seemed incapable of settling and she lost count of the number of emotions running riot through her bloodstream.

  “Oh?”

  “It fell off, on the floor.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  “I didn’t see it until I’d turned the entire house upside down looking for you. I even checked your car was still there.”

  He winced. “Sorry, but I did leave the note.”

  “And attached it to something it wouldn’t stay stuck to for more than a minute. I know. I tried a blank one to see for myself.”

  “Sorry, I guess an engineer should have done better.” His smile was tight, thin, and didn’t reach his eyes, but at least it was a smile of sorts—enough for the moment.

  “Forget it. I think we have bigger issues to deal with.”

  “True.”

  She sighed.

  “When did you come in last night?”

  “What makes you think I did after you told me to stay out, and slammed and locked the door? That was loud.”

  “That loud?”

  “Oh, yeah. I suspect the neighbors in the next street heard that one.”

  It was her turn to wince before turning the conversation back to where she’d started. “Well, let me count the ways. My shoes were by the wardrobe, the dress I left on the floor was on the chair, and there was a comforter over me. How am I doing so far? Oh, yes, and the door was open.”

  He dropped the paper on the end of the breakfast bar and carried the bag into the kitchen, putting it on the counter near the refrigerator before he turned around to answer.