by Amy Lynn
I call my parents, and mom fusses over me while dad asks a million questions to reassure himself that Brad is taking proper care of me. Brad usually checks in with his parents once a week. They never ask to speak to me or even ask how I’m doing, so it’s nice that my parents care so much about my well-being.
I meet with Caroline on Tuesday, and after showing her the house, we have lunch at a little café in town.
“So,” she said wanting to get down to the business of our meeting. “I know its short notice, but I’m having a charity fundraiser on Saturday, and I would love for you to come.”
“I’d love to, but I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem. I will have Mitchell bring a few gowns over. Pick the one you like, and Mitchell will return the rejects.”
Mitchell was her private driver, and right now, as we have lunch, he’s sitting in the car waiting for her return.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” I say.
“You didn’t. I’m insisting.”
I give her a smile as I think about it.
“The event invitation extends to Brad as well. Plus, it will get you out of the house for a while, and it’s a wonderful opportunity for both of you to meet members of the community,” she added.
“Let me talk it over with Brad, and I’ll let you know something soon.”
Brad gave me permission to go later that night; however, he wasn’t sold on attending himself just yet. “It’s not really my thing,” he said and went on to explain Saturday was the day he set aside to set to catch up on his latest TV addiction.
While I wouldn’t force him to go, I hoped he would change his mind on his own. At least for me.
Mitchell came by the next day as promised, bringing several gowns for me to sample. I settled on one, refraining from looking at the price tag, and selected a pair of heels from the giant pile of boxes. I felt like royalty. It was new territory for me, but I sure as hell wasn’t rejecting Caroline’s generosity. A girl should feel pampered every once in a while, right?
On Friday night, Brad sunk into the sofa. “I’m beat.”
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay. Want to order a pizza tonight? Chill out in front of the TV?” Brad asked.
“Sure. I’ll order.”
After deciding what kind of pizza to order and then eating our fair share, I nestled into Brad’s side on the couch. I needed to ask him about the event tomorrow, but I was afraid of the answer.
“Hey, isn’t that event of Caroline’s tomorrow?” Brad asked, reading my mind.
“Yes. Have you decided if you’re going?”
“I thought about it. Truth is I’m just too tired to go.”
My heart sank, and I struggled not to cry from disappointment. “No problem.You don’t have to go. But will you be okay with me going?” Alone…..
“Absolutely. It will be good for you to get out of the house, have some fun, and meet new people. ”
I’d rather be having fun with you.
Laying my head on Brad’s chest, I closed my eyes as the tears threatened. I know Brad has been under a tremendous amount of stress with work lately. I understand his reason not to attend, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Part of me feels abandoned, and the other part feels angry. Couldn’t he give me one night? A few hours mingling around a room indulging on free champagne, then cut out early with a headache? I sighed heavily, and swallowed my thoughts. I could either sit here and be angry about something I couldn’t change, or I could enjoy the snuggle time with my husband.
I choose snuggles.
*******
On Saturday evening, I came down the stairs dressed and ready to go thirty minutes before Mitchell, was scheduled to pick me up.
Brad’s jaw dropped when he saw me, and he rose to meet me in the foyer. “Wow. You look fantastic. Almost good enough to make me consider changing my mind about going.”
Almost? I gave a small smile to cover my disappointment. It’s all I had.
An hour later, I stood nervously glancing around the grand
ballroom as soft music filled the air. Crisp white linens topped the round tables as stemware sparkled in the warm flickering candlelight. I took a deep calming breath and focused on the scent of fresh cut roses that sat at the center of each table perfuming the air. Wives were latched onto the arm of their tuxedoed husbands, both seeming to be there happily with one another. They were enjoying time most couples don’t have due to families or careers, while my husband chose to stay home to catch-up on missed episodes of Mad Men.
Aggravated with myself for not telling Brad my true feelings about attending the event and at my husband who was sitting at home instead of accompanying me, I did what any woman would do. I got a drink.
I’m neither a drinker nor a connoisseur of wines, so I simply ordered a gin and tonic like the lady ahead of me.
“Make that two,” the low, very male voice behind me rumbled.
I avoided looking over my shoulder, as I found his clean scent distracting, a welcoming break from the normal strong musky smell of man cologne that most guys thought women preferred.
The server quickly mixed two gin and tonics, which looked a lot like ice water garnished with a lime wedge. He handed one to me, the other slipping into the waiting hand beside me, the sleeve of his suit jacket brushing against the exposed skin of my arm and lower back.
I eyed the drink for a moment and thought ‘how bad could it be, right?’
Turns out, it was very bad. As in, I would have spit it back into my glass, if no one would notice.
“Aren‘t gin and tonic’s the best?” the gentleman asked.
Quickly regaining control of my twisted disapproving face, I turned to face him with a smile, hoping he hadn’t seen my previous facial verdict. “It’s my absolute favorite,” I replied instantly, not truly prepared for who or what I was about to encounter.
He was effortlessly gorgeous. The kind of guy you know wakes up looking perfect. The kind of guy that instantly makes you self-conscious even on your very best of days. The kind of guy who doesn’t take no for an answer. The kind of guy who’s never even heard the word no.
Involuntarily, my eyes dropped to his lips, the perfect shape of them, wet and glistening.
A sly smirk emerged, revealing small dimples in his cheek. They became hidden the bigger he smiled, covered with those sexy apostrophe-like creases at the corners of his mouth, as if he knew exactly what I had been thinking. He tilted his head and raised his glass. “Mine too. Cheers.”
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I clink my glass with his, and took a big gulp of the toxic waste as my punishment.
“Ava!” Caroline startling me, coming from behind. So much so that I jumped, nearly choking on the bitter liquid that lodged in my throat. “Come, I want to introduce you to someone.”
I nodded to the gentleman as Caroline led me away, while an all too eager leggy blonde wasted no time sliding into the vacant place I left next to him.
He acknowledged me with a simple tilt of his head before turning his attention to the batting eyes that were looking at him in awe.
After an hour of Caroline parading me around introducing me to her elite circle of friends, all I could think about was getting home and out of the dress that, while beautiful, had rhinestone straps that were scratching my skin. Adding to that were my insanely high killer heels that were gorgeously uncomfortable, but I wore them regardless thinking of Caroline’s motto of “no pain, no gain.”
I pressed the call button for the elevator and while waiting, retrieved my cell to text Brad I was on my way home.
“Gin and tonic,” the gentleman quipped, as the elevator doors slid open. “We meet again.”
I smiled; taking note of the blonde next to him, the same one that had taken my place when Caroline led me away. Turns out, she wasn’t all that thrilled at the thought of sharing elevator space. I must have missed the memo about the elevator having a
maximum of two passengers per car. Bitch.
I cast my gaze to the floor and stepped inside, pressing the lobby button and feeling inquiring eyes on my backside while I stood alone at the front near the doors. I fidgeted nervously with my wedding ring, spinning it in circles while the elevator descended down.
As soon as my body would fit through the opening of the doors, I stepped off the elevator, desperate to part with the uncomfortable friction within. I veered off to a sitting area, pretending to retrieve something from my clutch and allowing the “couple” to go ahead of me.
After a few minutes, I exited the lobby into the cool night air. I spotted him, the gentleman, as he opened the rear door of a taxi for his lady friend. If you could in fact call her a lady. Most probably wouldn’t.
With his hands caging either side of the door, he leaned in close. The thought that he may kiss her a very real possibility, I couldn’t look away. He spoke to her, touching her cheek softly with the tip of his finger, and swiftly pulled away, her protests evident even at this distance. She sank into the seat making one last attempt to reach for him, but came up empty when he backed up and closed the door. He hit the roof twice, and the car departed.
I quickly looked away, fearful of being caught in the act of my spying, and saw him approaching me from my peripheral.
Shit.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asked as he approached me.
“Thank you, but I already have arrangements.”
He nodded, and that uncomfortable feeling came creeping back in. I turned to face him, extending my hand between us. “I’m Ava.”
Yeah, I do dumb stuff when I’m uncomfortable.
He smiled showing those apostrophes again. “Abram Kent,” he said smoothly as he engulfed my hand with his.
The house was dark, the only light coming from the solar lights that lined the driveway. I thanked Mitchell for the escort home and waved to him from the window after I was safely inside.
Upstairs, I slipped out of the heels and removed the gown as quietly as possible, careful not to wake Brad. Courtesy of the gowns open back, the bra was built in, so I was naked with the exception of my lace panties. As I slipped between the cool sheets, I could feel the scratches on my back sting.
Brad rolled over and pulled me to him. “Glad you’re home,” he mumbled.
I hadn’t realized he was awake. “Brad?”
“Mmm.”
“Could you look and see if I’m bleeding?”
Brad sat straight up in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he scrambled for the bedside light.
I was sitting up now too with the sheet covering my breasts. “I’m okay; it’s just the rhinestone straps from my dress. I think they may have scratched my back.”
“Let me see.”
Keeping the sheet around me, I spun on my bottom. Brad’s fingertips lightly touched a few places, and he rose from the bed.
“Don’t move,” he said.
I felt the cool air of his return and the mattress dip as he positioned himself behind me. “This might be cold,” he said moments before his fingertips began massaging a cream where it was stinging.
I closed my eyes. I loved Brad’s hands on me. He was gentle. Careful. Sometimes a little too careful…
Images of us began to fire in my mind. In the shower… On the new dining room table… The kitchen island… Against the wall…all images of me writhing beneath him and ones I hoped he’d surprise me with someday.
“Ava?” Brad’s voice broke through my visions, and I opened my eyes. I had lost my grip on the sheet, the fabric pooling around my waist, leaving my breasts fully exposed.
“Don’t,” Brad whispered when I started to cover myself. His warm hands slipped around my bare waist pressing against my stomach urging me back against him.
Brad placed a tender kiss to my shoulder, another at the base of my neck, and whispered into my ear, “What were you thinking about just then?”
“You.”
“I missed you,” he said as he kissed the skin behind my ear.
My breath escaped in a rush. “I missed you too.”
His right hand skimmed the valley between my breasts, to my neck, and angled my face to him. He kissed me softly and slowly, while I turned to face him locking my arms around his neck. His hand slipped to the small of my back and I arched into him, my chest grazing his. He sucked in a sharp breath, and I ran my tongue along his lower lip, kissing him deeper than I had moments before.
His lips broke free from mine. “Come with me,” he said taking my hand in his.
My heart thumped louder in my chest, and I flushed from head to toe at the possibility that lie ahead.
Brad turned on the closet light and pulled one of his crisp button down shirts from a wooden hanger. “Put this on,” he said holding it open.
My stomach dropped. I slipped my arm through the sleeves; he brought the fabric over my shoulders, and spun me to face him. He fastened each button with the exception of the top three and led me back to bed.
We lay facing each another, our fingers entwined between us. “Sleep now, Ava,” Brad said as his eyes began to close.
Sleep? There was no way in hell I could sleep with this ache between my legs.
I squeezed his hand. “Night.”
I waited for Brad’s breaths to become deep and even before I slipped my hand from his. When he didn’t stir, I tiptoed to the door, down the stairs, and entered the downstairs bathroom. I didn’t bother turning on the light before easing the door quietly shut. I was not proud of what I was about to do, but there would be no sleep for me otherwise. I leaned against the door, the coolness instantly penetrating the fabric of my shirt. I imagined Brad had me against the door. I thought about the words he had spoke as my hand slipped beneath the shirt and into my panties. “I want you all the time. Every minute of every day. Just because I choose not act on it, doesn’t make it any less true.”I gasped through my release; it was so quick and hard. My fingers moved faster, and the sensation rippled like a wave through me. My body shook and convulsed around my fingers, pleasure, and ecstasy firing in my blood.
As I slowly regained my breathing, guilt laced my satisfaction, and I desperately wished Brad had been the cause.
He could have been.
Chapter 3
Ava
Monday evening, I sat alone at a table for two, sipping water while I waited for Brad’s arrival. Since deciding Mad Men took precedent over escorting me Saturday night, Brad was extending an olive branch and attempting to make amends for his poor judgment.
My phone buzzed on the table with a text from Brad explaining he was running a little late. I was in the middle of my reply when Abram Kent sat down in the empty chair across from me.
“May I join you?” he asked.
“Looks like you already have.”
He gave me that smug smile again; the one he knew drove ladies wild. Except it didn’t work on me. Well, maybe it did just a little.
Abram signaled the waiter and ordered two gin and tonics. Ugh, perfect.
“Meeting someone?” he asked the moment the waiter left.
“Yes, my husband.”
His eyes instantly dropped to my left hand ring finger, a look glazing over his eyes for a moment before he blinked it away.
“Is he always late?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine again.
“What makes you think he’s late?” I asked wondering how he actually knew.
“Because no husband with any sense would dare leave a wife like you alone in a restaurant that single guys like me frequent looking for
their next conquest. If he’s not late, he’s sent you into the lion’s den, princess. I’m here offering my protection.”
I clamped my lips shut after I caught them hanging open, just as the waiter returned with our dreadful drinks, allowing me a few minutes to gather my response.
When the waiter left, I leaned into the table as if what I was about to say was highly classified. Abram mirrored
my movements, as I knew he would. “Just so you know, I despise gin and tonic.”