CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY

by Patrice Wilton

  She slipped a little cotton t-shirt over her sports bra and ran a brush through her chin-length blonde hair. Ken was warming up on the court, doing squats and chest presses as he waited for her. She watched him a minute, enjoying the rear view. He was in great physical shape.

  He was also relentless. He ran her all over the court, and she scurried around like a little rabid hamster. In no time, she was sweating buckets. And damn, but didn’t he manage to look even better in a sweat? She hoped her wet t-shirt made up for the flushed face, her dripping mascara, and her now soaked, slicked back “do”.

  “Okay. You win. Again.” She threw herself against the wall and slid onto the floor, legs spread in front of her. Breathing deeply, she gasped, “Now what? I don’t think I can move, much less shower and change.”

  Ken grinned. “Shall I throw you over my shoulder and haul you into the shower? Just say the word. It’ll be my pleasure.”

  “You should be so lucky.”

  This afternoon was not going well. She had to think of something fast, some way to stop looking at him as if he was a candy stick and she had a thing for sweets. But he looked so sexy, so male, so virile, so beddable, and that, in a nutshell, was the problem. She wanted to get laid. Correction: she needed to get laid, but as a recruiter and president-elect for the MARS Club, it had to be on her terms.

  David had been gone for nearly a year, and a year was too long to go without sex. It wasn’t healthy, and she should do something about it before it grew over and she became a virgin again.

  It wouldn’t hurt if she used this perfect male specimen for pleasure. For her pleasure, not his.

  Oh, it might be all right if he enjoyed it too, but that wasn’t what this was all about. It was about her taking control. But how do you go about seducing somebody who wants to be seduced?

  “Ken, help me up, will you?”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, and she let herself stumble against him. “Oops.” She smiled into his face. “Sorry.” She pressed her boobs into his chest. She wondered if he was as aware of them as she was.

  “I’m not.”

  “What do you want to do now?” She blew her wet hair out of her eyes. “Grab a bite to eat somewhere, or a drink, or go back to your place?”

  “You’re giving me that choice?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Okay, where shall we eat?”

  He saw her face, and laughed. “Hey, I’m just kidding. Follow me back to my place. We can both shower there.”

  “Uh-no. I really need to shower now.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you fifteen minutes.”

  “Thirty?” She smiled and looked into his eyes. “I want to be clean from head to toe.”

  “I like that. If I finish first, I’ll wait at the bar.”

  “Ken?” She hooked a towel over his neck and drew his face towards hers, giving him a quick kiss.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you always this easy?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Maddi surveyed Ken’s small, Riverside apartment. The living room was sparingly furnished, but had all the toys. One wall was practically hidden by the flat sixty-inch big screen TV and a shelf of CDs and DVD movies. The center of the room held a comfortable sofa and a recliner, and he had a pool table where the dining table should be. A rack of cue sticks was attached to one wall, and on another he had a collection of golf balls and various pictures of golf courses.

  Besides the kitchen and bathroom he had one other room, the master bedroom, all dark wood and masculine colors.

  Ken had taken off his leather jacket, and the black T-shirt he was wearing allowed her a rather splendid view of his hard body. He was tall, probably six-two, with the body of an aging jock. He was also really cool. All he had to do was flick a switch and they had surround sound, with the flick of another switch the gas fireplace sparked to life. The perfect set-up, she mused, perfect for seduction.

  He headed for the fridge, and predictably came up with a bottle of champagne and two fluted glasses. “Maddi, relax. Make yourself comfortable. Here, let me take your jacket.” He folded it onto the back of a chair. Then he popped the cork. “Quick, grab a glass.”

  She stood there for a second, knowing she was moving into uncharted territory and had a choice to make. Two steps forward, or one step back?

  Then she heard a little voice in the back of her head. It sounded like Barbara’s. “Move, girl. What are you waiting for? Robin Hood to come slashing through the woods? To save you from what? Maidenhood? Take this man on a ride and suck him dry.”

  Maddi grabbed the glass, and sat down next to him. They sipped on delicious champagne and listened to romantic music. She thought it was sweet that Ken was in no hurry, but a part of her wanted to fast-forward the foreplay and get on with it before she changed her mind.

  But Ken was clearly an expert, a maestro conductor of the seduction game.

  He touched her and kissed her for a long, long time. She put her head on his shoulder, and murmured, “This is so nice, so very special. Most married men think foreplay is hitting a bucket of balls before a round of golf.”

  He choked and sputtered some of his drink. “No wonder I’m not married.”

  “You probably think I’m kidding, right?” His hand was doing wonderful things to the back of her neck, sending delicious shivers up and down. “I’m not. And it’s not even all their fault. Married women have little interest in sex and just want to get it over with.”

  Ken stopped what he was doing, and pulled away in disbelief. “Oh, come on. That’s not true. I’ve known lots of married women.”

  “You probably have. But they were all cheating on their husbands, right?”

  “Well, yes.” His fingers teased the fine hairs along her hair-line, feathered touches that tickled and pleased.

  “That’s the point. The ones who don’t aren’t really all that interested in sex, period. I know. I used to be one of them.”

  “Maybe your husband didn’t know how to turn you on.” He started stroking her again, and he was good at it.

  “No, most of the ladies I know don’t want foreplay. They are too tired to be bothered with it.”

  “Bothered?” His hand stroked her ear and the underside of her chin. His hands were silky soft, and she turned her face into the palm of his hand. “Sex is supposed to make you feel good, not be a nuisance, performed as some kind of wifely duty.”

  “But it is. Most men don’t know it, of course.”

  He smiled. “You’re putting me on, right?”

  She smiled back. “Nope. You’re the first to know.”

  His hand moved down to cup her breast and play with her nipples. “So, how can you fake this? I feel your nipples getting hard.”

  Her smile grew wider. “My body might be giving off positive signs, but do I really want it? You’ll never know.” Her hand moved over his, keeping it there. “We women are so adept at pretending, it’s second nature to us all. Most women rarely achieve satisfaction, did you know that?”

  “I can satisfy you. Want me to prove it?”

  “You can try.”

  His smile grew more confident. He grabbed her hand and led her toward the bedroom. She lay next to him. “Do you like my hands here?” He moved them to her breasts and skimmed her nipples. “And here?” This time, between her thighs.

  Taking his time, he continued to stroke and touch her, intent now on fully arousing her. He knew what he was doing and had her entire body on fire. Little by little, he had her undressed.

  She was ready at last and opened herself to him. She felt him against her, hot, throbbing, and huge. Just as he was about to penetrate her, David’s face appeared out of nowhere and she burst into a storm of tears.

  Being a gentleman, Ken withdrew. He took her face into his hands, and kissed her softly. He held her, and let her cry. He whispered that it was all right, that he could wait, and touched her all the while. While his hands caressed her skin, his kisses gentled her. Aft
er a little bit his fingers slid inside her, deep and wonderful, and her tears stopped.

  They rolled over, and he lifted her body on top of his. She shifted and poised above him, when the phone rang. He didn’t pick it up but the answering service was on, and they could hear the message.

  “Ken? Pick up, man. Allison is looking for you. Her flight was cancelled and she’s home, wondering where the hell you are. I didn’t know what to tell her. I hope you’re getting this. She’s checking up on you.”

  Allison?

  Ken shot out of bed, and grabbed the phone. Maddi sat up in bed and watched his three inches shrink to two. “Yeah, I’m here. Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

  He tossed her clothes at her, on his way to the shower. “Sorry, baby. We’ll do this another time.”

  She heard the faucet being turned on, the sound of water pounding on a surface, and saw the steam rise from the shower. She was so frustrated, so highly stimulated and yet so angry, she wanted to break something. She thought about picking up the lamp and throwing it right at his head.

  She flung the bed sheet aside and found her undergarments, then the rest of her clothes. She slid her panties on, and used her bra to whiplash the bed in fury. If she hadn’t thought about stupid David, she’d have had time for a climax or two. It was his fault. David had cheated her again.

  As for Ken. He was nothing more than a male slut.

  She heard him shout, “I’ll call you,” as she slammed the front door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  At the first meeting of the Mars Club, twenty-four women were in attendance. By the second, they’d more than doubled their numbers. It had been Maddi’s job to e-mail all the new members and encourage them to attend and bring their friends.

  Most of the women were either in the throes of a divorce, or involved in a troubled relationship, and didn’t know where to turn. They were angry, depressed, and overwhelmed by feelings of inadequacy. Some were afraid, fleeing an abusive environment. Others merely wanted to get back at the scoundrels who’d hurt them.

  As expected, the members loved the idea of plastering the faces of their exes all over the internet, and naming him scoundrel of the week. The membership was free, but most of the ladies would have gladly paid for such a privilege.

  Maddi and Barbara played host to the new arrivals, welcoming them with a smile and a cup of coffee. They’d sit at a large rectangular table, drinking coffee, eating finger sandwiches, and munching on cookies. In this friendly, wholesome environment, the women were encouraged to talk about their troubles, and to learn to laugh them away.

  A girl named Sophie spoke up. “My boyfriend likes sex so much he has to have it several times a day. He thinks I’m crazy because I’m not always in the mood. One day he came prancing into the bedroom buck-naked, a big hard-on as usual, and he had a box of crackers in his hand. I asked him if he was hungry. You know what he said?”

  “No,” was the response. “But we’re dying to hear.”

  “Everything tastes better on a Ritz”.”

  Rollicking laughter filled the room, and Maddi knew it was the best medicine in the world.

  Another woman confided, “My man decided we needed to add a little spice to our bedroom. He brought home a few sex toys. Then he wanted to introduce a third party.”

  A blue-haired lady put down her knitting. “My husband used to go to the garage a lot, and one day curiosity got the better of me. I found a box filled with disgusting pictures.” She took a sip of tea, and then gently placed the cup back on the saucer. “My husband of forty years enjoyed child-porn.”

  He was voted the number one scumbag of the week.

  ***

  Several days later, Maddi was at school, hurrying from one class to another, when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Maddi,” David called. “Wait up.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. What the hell was he doing here? “If this has anything to do with your alimony payments, I have no wish to talk about it. Talk to my lawyer.”

  He grabbed her arm as she tried to propel past. “Wait a minute.” Flashing his best smile, he pleaded, “Come on, Maddi. Hear me out.”

  She headed for a bench under a tree. “Okay. You have all of three minutes, and then I’m out of here. I have another class.”

  “Maddi,” he blurted quickly. “I left Tami.”

  “You what?” She gave him a disgusted look. “That’s terrible. How old is the baby?” she asked, although she knew to the exact day.

  “A month.” He looked down at his hands. “Look, I made a big mistake. I admit it. I don’t love Tami and I sure in hell don’t want to be saddled with a kid.”

  “David.” Her upper lip curled with distaste. “You never fail to surprise me. I thought I knew how contemptible you are, but I’m just now getting a clue.” She stood up, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. How could she ever have loved him? Had he changed that much, or had she? “It’s a little late, don’t you think? You might not want a twenty-five-year-old wife and a new born baby, but you already have them.”

  “Maddi, stop looking at me like I’m a monster. You know me; we spent thirteen years together. I love you, and I want to come home.” His eyes beseeched her. “Please give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  “You’ll what?” She faked a laugh. “Not in this lifetime, you won’t. What you did was unforgivable, and even if I could forgive, I don’t want you anymore. The man you’ve become is not the man I once loved.”

  “Everybody makes mistakes. I admit I screwed up badly, but if you’ll just give me half a chance--”

  “David. Tell it to somebody who cares.” She picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and marched off to the library. She began to shake. By the time she reached the library, tears blinded her. She walked aimlessly through the rows of books, unable to find the section she had come for. Sinking onto a chair, she buried her head in her arms and let the healing tears run free.

  ***

  Maddi had gotten over her disappointment with the airline pilot, and she was back in full swing, meeting and socializing with a wide variety of men. She hadn’t yet met that special someone, but her heart was definitely on the mend. The light flirtation and laughter lifted her spirits, and it sure beat the hell out of sitting home every night with Barbara.

  As much as she loved her friend, she wished she’d go home to her family, and give Maddi back her home. But Bill had stopped calling, and Barbara was a stubborn woman who wanted to be wooed. Since Barb wouldn’t leave her living room, Maddi knew she had to escape, or suffocate. Their friendship would suffer if this kept up much longer.

  She was meeting someone new tonight, and they’d arranged to meet at a New York deli. The moment she walked in and spotted him, her pulse picked up a notch.

  He had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Dark, dreamy eyes, with impossibly long, thick lashes. Carl was a gourmet chef who owned his own restaurant in Little Italy, and within an hour of that first meeting, he said she was everything he was looking for.

  His restaurant was closed to the public on Mondays, he promised to cook for her alone.

  She dressed for the evening in a knit dress that hugged her curves, and stepped into high-heeled shoes. She’d passed the lively Greek taverna on several trips to Little Italy, but had never been inside. Tonight there was no loud music, no Zorba dancing, no plate throwing taking place, just a quiet dinner for two.

  Carl greeted her warmly when she stepped inside. With a flourish he presented a frozen bottle of ouzo, the ice heavily caked on the sides. “We must start with a tiny shot.” He poured the thick, liquorice-tasting substance into two demi-shot glasses, and they saluted each other before taking a sip.

  He took her by the arm, and steered her to a candlelit table adorned with a starched white tablecloth, fresh flowers, and two place settings. He pulled the chair out for her, and she took the offered seat with a smile of appreciation. “Something smells
wonderful. What have you been cooking up?”

  “You’ll see.” With a flourish he whipped open her linen napkin and placed it on her lap. “One moment for the appetizers.” He returned seconds later with a platter of delicious looking treats.

  “These fried meatballs are called keftedes tiganites and the spinach pie, spanakopita. Try some, my dear.”

  She helped herself to a small serving, and groaned with appreciation. “Heavenly. Oh, my gosh. This is to die for.”

  He laughed. “Wait until you taste my tzatziki and the marinated smelts.”

  She bit into the lemony fish and her taste buds came alive. Orgasmic! she thought, and fed on another.

  “How is everything?” He sat across from her, watching her face beam with pleasure.

  “Delicious doesn’t begin to describe it. I think I just fell in love.”

  “Good. Wonderful. But please, save just a little room for the entrée.”

  Obligingly, she put her fork down. He filled her wine glass, and she took a sip without thinking. She was starting to feel a little tipsy, but pleasantly so. He was giving her soulful glances from his smoldering, bedroom eyes, and when at last he spoke, his voice was smooth as golden honey. “You are a lovely looking woman. And I bet you make very pretty babies.”

  Wine splashed from her glass, and she put it down firmly. “I don’t know. I wasn’t lucky enough to have any.”

  “But I thought you had two daughters.”

  “They are from David’s first marriage. I helped raise them from the time they were eight and ten, so I love them as my own.”

  His smile faded. “You’ve never had a child?”

  “No. I told you--”

  “Ah!” His eyes glowed. “But you are still young enough to have many.”

  “I’m not sure. It would be nice, if I’m so lucky.”

  He nodded. “Oh, yes. You will.” He pinched a piece of the fish, tasted it, and ended by kissing the tips of his fingers. “Delicious,” he proclaimed. Then in the next breath, “I’m pleased that you enjoy food. Too many women diet all the time and won’t taste a thing. Such a waste.”