by Christy Dilg
Laney's POV
I pull up in the driveway and Callie comes bolting outside eager to find out about my first day of work. She is the most beautiful thing God could have ever given me, inside and out. Kaleb is a rebel of sorts and likes to keep me on my toes every chance he gets—always in trouble and acting out in school. When he starts high school we are going to be in trouble. I step out of my old 1996 Chevy Malibu and hug her. I let her in on all the interesting, and mainly uninteresting, parts of my day. I am basically a secretary in a Heart Center, so I don't actually see any hearts or anything. I laugh to myself as to how right Michael is on how appealing I am.
A frown starts to cross my face when I hear Callie say, "Mom, I'll be back tonight around 8. I'm going to Elizabeth's house to study."
I nod. "Wait, Callie, where is Kaleb?"
She calls back, "He went to the skateboarding park."
Then she is in Elizabeth's car and pulling out of the driveway. Oh! I turn to face the house, knowing what is waiting inside. I take in a deep breath and let it out. I can do this. I hear the thoughts in my head playing out, trying to give me strength to go inside. Michael never lets the kids see how he truly feels about me; that would make him a monster, as if he isn't already.
Dinner is cooked and I make his plate and take it to him, then head back to the kitchen to start cleaning. I can feel his presence behind me and I close my eyes and hold my breath. He slams the plate on the counter and walks off. At that very moment, I know I am going to get lucky tonight and he will leave me alone. I can't even begin to relax myself entirely because I know at any moment his mood can change and start on me again. Kaleb comes walking through the door. Sweaty from skating, he fixes his plate, gives me a peck on the cheek, and takes it to his room. At least he still kisses his mother. Once the kitchen is finished, I go to soak in a hot bath. The smell of Dr. Turner is still on me as I lay back and let the memories of his face, his shoulders, and his scent wash over me. I remember the days Michael could make me feel this way and I would think about him for hours. Now here I lie in a tub, naked and alone, wishing my husband would see me the way he used to before the weight. Dieting isn't really dieting anymore when you do it every day and get nowhere. I think at this point it is called eating normally. Getting ready for bed, I hear Callie come home and I go to see how her night was. My kids have a life I would have dreamed of as the perfect childhood, even under the dark secrets they don't know about. Hugs and "I love you mores" then off to bed before my curfew is up.
* * *
Weeks later and it's still like every other day, another rude comment. This one goes "Damn, you sure know how to ruin a man's life. I can't take you to an office party because you are too hideous to look at. What would the guys think?" Seriously, I get it by now and yet he still comes up with some new line to make me feel like the fattest creature on earth. In all honestly, if I really looked at myself I would see that I was an average built woman: curvy, but nothing that was disgusting. I don't look like a super model, but I'm still not as bad as he makes me out to be. I know this deep down, but it doesn't hurt any less. Sometimes words are sharper than knives and can leave the deepest, non-healing wounds.
The following week I arrive in my office, smelling the most amazing scent: musty and clean. Even without him here, I can smell his cultivating scent. I inhale and all the visions of him wrap around my body and fill me with warmth. It has been weeks of harmless flirting, yet the smell of that delicious boss of mine still weakens my knees. Chance walks in and just slightly brushes against my arm with his and I can feel an electric current run through me like I had just been charged. Holy fuck! I feel like I am in heat. I quickly shake my head so I don't seem to be a complete idiot, and come back to reality. He is going on about things that need to be changed in his schedule for a new meeting that is more of a priority and that if everything goes well, we both will be moving up in the world.
I giggle like my teenage daughter. "I can't wait, Dr. Turner! I could use a little spice in my life." What the fuck! Blushing, I avert my eyes and try to turn away.
He then grabs my arm softly, but somehow erotic, and whispers, "I have a lot of ways we can spice up your life, Mrs. Collins."
I seriously feel like my mouth, along with my panties, just fell to the floor. There I go with that damn giggling again. What is wrong with me? I am a married woman. I should not let another man get to me this way. His eyes have a hint of fire behind them as he turns for his office. The phone on my desk buzzes and his smooth sultry voice asks if we could have a business lunch today. Of course I said yes. I wasn't going to tell my boss no. I sent Sierra a quick email so she has plenty of time to find something else to do for lunch. The day flew by and noon is here before I know it. I gather my purse and cell phone and head to Dr. Turner's office just as he steps out of the door.
He looks over with narrowed eyes and a sly grin. "Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?" he asks.
Other than a few dirt bikes, I have never really been on one. I shake my head no and put my head down. His hand, ever so gently, touches my face and tilts my head up so my blue eyes are looking into his.
"Has anyone ever told you your eyes are hypnotic?"
Blushing, which is what I seem to always be doing when he is around, I say no. "With eyes like that, you could get any man to do whatever you want. And with that being said, please never look down. I always want to see your eyes."
With my face turning beet red, I smile back at him and murmur, "Okay. I'll see what I can do."
He puts his hands out like a model advertising a new product. "This is a Harley Davidson Fat Boy." He beams.
I smile at his excitement over a bike. I giggle and grab for the helmet, our hands touching for a brief moment. Rolling my eyes to break away from the heat I see in those eyes, I slip on my helmet. He places my things in a side bag on the bike.
"A joy ride. I've done nothing but think about you, especially you on my bike, since the moment I saw you," he admits.
I feel like I am doing something wrong as I climb on the back and wrap my arms loosely around his waist.
He grabs me with force and says, "Honey, you better get a tight grip on me because I'm taking you on the ride of your life."
His arm caresses mine and we are off. Oh my God! I am seriously all heated below and my face looks like I just had an orgasm right here on a motorcycle. Wait, what am I doing? Married, Laney. Married! I have to start treating this man like my boss. My husband is an asshole, sure, but I am the one who puts up with it. I shouldn't let another man touch me this way. Is this a way? Oh geez, I am really over-thinking things. I am too fat for anyone to want, especially someone so…well, so hot and powerful. As we drive, I notice he is taking the scenic route along Palm Coast parkway. Wow, it's going by quickly, but it's so beautiful. The water calms me as I watch the waves crash over and over again.
Chapter 3
We pull into the restaurant's small parking lot, although it's more of a shack than a restaurant. We place our orders and have a seat outside on the picnic tables. The beach is right across the street and I can feel the warmth of the sun. I would have never come here on my own because I am such a picky eater. I am hungry so I dig in to my quesadillas. He has ordered some UFO creation that looks to be full of lots of things spicy and heated. Pretty perfect choice for this man; I could devour him in a moment just by the way he looks at me. He starts talking about his upcoming plans for the Heart Center and suddenly he pauses, glances up at me, and grins.
"You are so darn cute. I can't keep my eyes off you. I know we are both married and this is wrong on more levels than humanly possible, but I just have to let it out before I explode. I feel an electrical static when I am with you. I have a feeling you feel it, too. Tell me if I'm wrong?"
I am in shock, but manage to mumble, "No, you are not wrong. I feel it, too."
He goes on to ask me about my life, marriage, and kids. I don't know what comes over me, but I just start talking. It's like I can't
stop. I tell him my husband is an ass who hates me because I look, well, like this and then talk about the most important thing in my life, my kids.
"Why do you stay?" He interrupts me.
"My kids; everything in my life has always been about them. I want them to have the best of everything, and as a child to divorced parents, I never would want to put my kids through that. Sometimes there are things bigger than you and to me. That is them," I say.
We sit in silence for a while and he hasn't taken his eyes off of me the entire time.
Suddenly, he opens up. "My wife, Catherine, and I don't ever get along. I'm probably just as unhappy as you but in different ways. She is always more into what I can do to make her more money and less concerned about our marriage being non-existent. I love being with you. Seeing you smile makes my whole day. I find myself wanting to do more things to see it. Maybe we can be adults and keep things friendly without getting out of control. Maybe each other's company will bring some happiness in our lives without breaking any rules."
I shrug my shoulders and smile. As I look down on the table, I can feel the charge between us and I glance up and into his eyes, and utter, "We can sure try it out. I don't believe in adultery. It's the one sin in my life that I haven't committed and I really wanted to stick to it."
He agrees; he has no clue to the secrets that are behind the eyes he can't stop looking at. I hold him tightly as we drive back to work, and once arriving, I realize I have helmet hair. Next time, I should surely put my hair in braids to keep it from looking like a mess. I grab the brush from my purse and get it looking somewhat normal before we walk back to the office. Chance is staring at me, which makes me nervous. I just don't know why he makes me feel the way I do. Is it knowing he thinks I am sexy that turns me on? Or is it the fact that I have not been looked at like that in so many years?
"You enchant me. You have no idea what you do to my soul," he murmurs. His words speak to my heart.
"Chance, you can't say things like that to me and expect this to be an easy friendship. I am committed to my marriage and you should be committed to yours," I utter.
"My marriage isn't what most marriages start out to be, Laney. We didn't marry for love," he confesses.
"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask, confused.
"Another time. Just know I have been faithful to my wife for 6 years and she is just as unhappy as I am. It is time for a change and you are my change. One day I will prove to you that this is right; we are meant to be wrapped up in each other for the rest of our lives. Until you open your eyes and heart and feel that faith has put us together to bring us undue happiness then I will wait by your side and show you every day that you are my future." His hand reaches out and grabs a hold of my chin. "One day I will kiss you, and when I do, love, it will be epic," he whispers.
How can words turn my body to mush? If I breathe the wrong way, my body will send me into orgasmic convulsions. Holy fuck, everything about this man turns me on.
Chance's POV
Leaving this woman to go sit in this office all by myself is torture. I need more time with her, other than the time spent at work. I pick up my phone and buzz her desk. "Yes?" Her voice comes over my speaker and sends tingling sensations all over my body. I ask her to come out to lunch, a business lunch. It's the perfect excuse to spend more time with her outside of these four walls. Of course she said yes, how was she going to tell her boss no? I clear my schedule for the next couple hours because we are not going to have lunch here in this stuffy cafeteria. I am going to take her for a drive by the beach, and what would you know? I brought my bike today so I will get to see what that nice ass looks like on it.
The day flies by and my heart is racing. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning waiting to get downstairs. I don't know why she makes me feel this way, but I love being so excited to see someone, to hear someone's voice. I have never felt this way in my life and I have to tell her what is going on so she doesn't think I am a weirdo anymore. Poor girl never got to see that I can actually be quite charming and maybe even a little funny. I'm not just the man with a white coat on, staring at her beautiful face. Who am I kidding? I don't think I'll ever get enough of her beauty and pink cheeks.
It's finally time to go so I take off my white coat and hang it on the rack next to the door. Upon opening my office door, I see her looking into a hand-held mirror, applying lip gloss. Those lips are moist as she rubs them together and drops the mirror back into her purse. Her head turns and a smile stretches across her face when she catches me watching her. My heart stops for a beat, and possibly even two, when our eyes meet. We reach my bike, which is a big surprise to her as her eyes widen in fear and maybe a hint of excitement. I narrow my eyes and give my best sly grin. "Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?" She shakes her head no and puts her head down, as if she is embarrassed.
My hand gently touches her face to tilt it up so I can look her in the eye. "Has anyone ever told you your eyes are hypnotic?"
Blushing, she utters the word, "No."
"With eyes like that, you could get any man to do whatever you want. And with that being said, please never look down. I always want to see your eyes."
I put my arms out like a model on a game show, showing her my Harley Davidson Fat Boy. She smiles because I am acting like a fucking idiot about my bike, but it's my baby. She laughs the sweetest little giggle and takes the helmet. Her hand touches mine and I can feel that the excitement I am feeling is no longer for the bike, but for her. I grab her things from her delicate hands so I can try to conceal the fact that my dick is hard. I slip them into the side bag on my bike and take a seat, running my fingers though the mop on top of my head. I put my helmet on and pat the seat behind me.
Letting out the thoughts in my head, I say, "A joy ride. I've done nothing but think of you and you on my bike, since the moment I saw you." She plants her ass on the back and I feel her thighs on either side of me. Her arms wrap lightly around me and I grab them to pull her closer. "Honey, you better get a grip because I am taking you on the ride of your life." I wish I could see her face when I take off out of the hospital parking lot, but the warmth of her skin on mine is all I can focus on. One day I hope to lay her ass over my bike in every position imaginable. Fuck, I am a married man! I just need to know where she stands and what she thinks of me, if anything at all.
I don't know why she tries to hide her body around me. I know I am staring more than a normal person, but surely she is used to men finding her attractive. I take the scenic route on Palm Coast Parkway so she can get the true feeling of the ocean air and sun of her face. Something about riding a motorcycle gives you a sense of freedom, calmness; and truthfully, it's just badass. We pull into the Taco Shop, which is a small shack building with colorful picnic tables out front. It doesn't seem like much, but the food here is the best if you are looking for Mexican. I remember her saying she likes Mexican in one of the many talks I include in the morning meetings. We park and I take her helmet, place it on the back of the bike, and grab for her hand to lead her inside.
She doesn't flinch; she just grabs it and follows behind me. I order the UFO and she gets the basic cheese and chicken quesadillas. Simple. I like that. We take a seat at the picnic table under a tiki umbrella and I begin talking about our upcoming plans for the Heart Center so she doesn't think I lied about it being a business lunch. Sometimes when I am around her, I can't control what comes out of my mouth.
Pausing, I glance up at her and grin. "You are so darn cute. I can't keep my eyes off you. I know we are both married and this is wrong on more levels than humanly possible, but I just have to let it out before I explode. I feel an electrical static when I am with you. I have a feeling you feel it, too. Tell me if I'm wrong?"
She is shocked by what comes out and I know it is wrong, but I would never have her if I didn't let my feelings be known.
"No, you are not wrong. I feel it, too," she admits.
I know my mouth drops open for a brief mo
ment. I quickly close my mouth to finish expressing my feelings before she is able to stop me. I ask her about her marriage, kids, her life, and if she is happy. She's just starts opening up to me. She begins telling me her husband is an asshole who hates her because of how she looks. What the hell does that mean? I am looking at her trying to see what I was missing. She is gorgeous in every way I can see, from the way her lips make this cute little curve when she is thinking, to the freckle on her cheek, still visible through the makeup.
I feel sad for her and it makes me want to wrap my body around hers to protect her from the horrible man who she goes home to every night. I want to protect her, to cherish her, and to love her deeply and completely.