"Darling, let me make you some breakfast," Michael offered across the kitchen the following morning.
"I'm fine, really. I need to go," I said with a weak smile as the dog, Balder, a huge, but seriously soppy Great Dane pushed his head into my hip. "Hey Baldy, I know, but I gotta go," I said apologetically knowing that the dog was desperate for a little love and attention. My guilt for my inability to provide that for the dog greater than my need to give my husband the same
"Let me drop you at work, I could even come and see what they've done to my building," Michael offered.
"No thank you, and no again," I replied, grabbing my bag and dashing to the door where the dog blocked my path. "Don't do this, Balder, not today, please. I will take you for a run at the weekend, a long, muddy one," I promised sincerely and was glad when Michael appeared with the dog's lead.
"Come on matey, Mommy has to go to work so you'll have to make do with me for a dash round the block."
"I am not his Mommy, I'm sure she was hairier than me," I told Michael with a smile.
"And taller," he replied.
"Below the belt," I laughed feeling a familiar and genuine warmth for the man before me. "Take it easy, don't push yourself on your dash around the block," I warned with a combination of concern and worry that turned into resentment that if he did I'd be nursing him through the whole weekend.
When did I become such a bitch I asked myself, remembering what I'd done last night to the man I'd promised to love, cherish, be faithful to, never to obey though, that was a step too far even for me at a naïve twenty three.
"Mmm, speaking of which, I'm sorry about last night, breaking the moment with my medication alarm..."
I cut him off with a wave of my hand, "Michael it's fine, there's more to life than sex, more to us, right?" I asked, desperate to believe the words leaving my mouth, but not quite succeeding.
"Of course, but you're young, you have needs that I might not be able to fulfil..."
"Michael," I snapped as the sound of the taxi beeping outside made me rethink my mood. "This is not the time, I don't have time for this right now, I have a ball breaker boss who is likely to sack me if his tea, just a dash of milk, no sugar isn't waiting for him, and besides that what is the solution to this, us? Viagra, a cabana boy, a time machine? I have to go!" I cried stepping over the dog to open the door just enough to squeeze through.
"Well done, absolutely fucking marvellous Eloise!" I shouted at myself as I slammed the taxi door startling the poor driver who confirmed my destination and then didn't speak again until he told me my fare, almost apologetic for disturbing my bitch of a mood.
I needed to sort out my head and my frame of mind before I landed in the office so I used the time in the lift to think.
When I'd returned home Michael was sitting in front of the TV watching some interactive 'extra' show about the bees which was almost enough for me to forgive myself for shagging a nameless man behind my husband's back, almost. After nearly falling over the dog I ran upstairs and showered, all evidence of any wrong doing washed away, physical evidence anyway. I threw on a pair of cotton shorts and vest before returning downstairs where my husband was lounging on the sofa with his legs stretched out reading the paper.
"You ok?" he asked looking at me over the top of his reading glasses as he placed his paper down on the coffee table.
"Mmm. I love you," I declared and almost made a full confession when he took my hand in his and pulled me down into his lap.
"I know that El, and I hope you know that I love you too."
"Are you happy?" I asked him as I turned so that I straddled his groin.
"Of course, and you, are you happy?" he asked making me think how stupid I must be not to have anticipated him throwing that right back at me.
"I am," I began causing something to flicker in my husband's eyes. "I miss how things were," I added and immediately he nodded, he got what I was saying.
"I wasn't fair to you when I married you, I was being selfish..."
"No," I attempted to stop him, to prevent him continuing, from saying something neither of us could go back from.
"Yes. You were, you are beautiful, funny, clever and sexy, but I didn't think it through, that when I was approaching sixty you wouldn't even be thirty, that our needs and capabilities would be poles apart, always were really. I want you to be happy darling, I want to make you happy, but I can't be the man I was five, ten or more years ago, or the man you probably ever needed."
I didn't know what to say or do, so said and did nothing. Relief washed over me as Michael reached up and pulled me to him and kissed me, not the usual peck on the cheek, but a kiss of passion and desire I thought and whilst it wasn't the battle I'd engaged in with Cy, that was what that blonde woman had called him, it was wonderfully different. I adjusted my position so that my sex was positioned over his burgeoning erection.
"You are so beautiful, so sweet and beautiful," Michael told me as he pulled back from our kiss and gently cupped my breast, the one that had been bitten earlier in the evening.
A low, loud groan echoed around us as the earlier, sweet pain was reignited by my husband's gentler caress. I wanted to ask him to be firmer, like earlier, but didn't know how to.
"Let's go to bed," Michael suggested but with thoughts of this and my earlier encounter mingling in my mind it meant I didn't want this moment breaking. I hadn't had sex with my husband for a year or more and I wanted this, needed it if only to prove that earlier was a mistake and this was real.
"Here, do it here," I pleaded as I undid the buttons on Michael's shirt revealing the scar that ran down his chest.
"We'll be more comfortable in bed love," he replied preparing to evict me from his lap.
How did I tell him that I didn't want comfortable and I didn't want to be beautiful, sweet or his love? I wanted to be a dirty girl, his baby and desperate.
"No!" I protested becoming a little bratty before hastily reaching beneath me for the belt on his trousers. "Michael, please, here, please, now," I begged.
He seemed to take pity on me and relaxed against the sofa, allowing me to free his semi-erect penis as his hand made its way into my shorts via the leg where he found me naked. I continued to stroke along his length, attempting to further arouse him and myself with limited success, but that was ok, we could do this. Unlike earlier I wasn't wet enough meaning that Michael withdrew his fingers and resorted to sucking them to add some moisture before returning them to my sex as horror filled my head at the idea that a complete stranger had turned me on in a way my husband wasn't able to do, had never been able to.
"That's better," he told me as his finger found my clit and his spit allowed it to move freely.
I stared at his hand moving beneath my clothes and closed my eyes, trying to conjure images in my head that would block out the actual one I was part of.
"Michael, wait, I want to feel you," I told him as I began to free myself from my husband's hold, lowering myself down the sofa until I was faced with Michael's groin, intent on making his penis a full erection, to let us move on from this awkwardness.
Slowly I licked along his length from his sac to the tip of his penis that I circled with my tongue and immediately he stiffened a little more allowing me to cover him with my mouth that I began to move up and down. His hands dropped to my head inspiring me to continue while his hands carefully and tenderly stroked my hair which was less comforting than it used to be I thought before the sound of a loud shrill startled me into an upright position.
"Sorry, love, time for my meds," Michael told me as he reached across to turn his phone alarm off.
"Now, where was I?" I asked preparing to return to my previous position.
"El, let me go and take my tablets and then we'll take this upstairs to bed," he told me, already moving me into a sitting position on the sofa, breaking the moment.
"Michael," I frowned but quickly found myself feeling ridiculous and selfish when he reminded me about the importance of his medication.
"Eloise, I am not taking multi-vitamins, these are my heart meds, the ones that help to keep me alive," he told me with a stern frown, admonishing me with his use of my full name and in that second something died, something other than my desire to have sex with my husband, even if my 'desire' was really to absolve the guilt of my infidelity.
"Sorry," I said getting to my feet. "Maybe that third beer was a bad idea," I added with a weak smile thinking that all of my beers may have been bad ideas considering where they'd led me.
"Beer?" Michael queried with a disapproving frown. "Beer is not a drink for a lady," he told me for the millionth time. "You know my feelings on beer."
With a sense of failure and resignation pouring over me I resisted the temptation to point out that I was not a lady so responded with, "You should take your tablets, I'm going to turn in, early start tomorrow."
The reception desk was unmanned, but why wouldn't it be, it was barely half past seven I realised stepping off the lift. I hung my jacket up revealing my fitted black and white striped, button through blouse that today was teamed with a black trouser suit, consisting of a contemporary black blazer with a single button fastening and high-waist cigar trousers. At least I hadn't had the debate on stockings and tights today with bare feet that were nestled in black leather, heeled shoes.
Once my computer was logged on I checked my emails whilst congratulating myself on the lack of stationery filling the floor. One email jumped out with its subject of 'Flowers'
Ms Ross,
I need flowers ordering for delivery, an arrangement, simple elegant, nothing fussy. Charge to my personal credit card and the delivery address is listed in my directory under Tia Mamodo.
The card should simply say:
Tia,
I'm an ass, sorry.
X
Denton Miller
CEO Miller Industries (Europe)
"Major arsehole maybe!" I told his email through gritted teeth, but complied with his order before ten to eight. "Right, 'Mein Fuhrer' will require his tea," I said taking my mood out on my absent new boss before taking myself off into the small but well equipped room that housed the drinks making facilities up here.
I was gone only minutes but once back I knew with certainty that my boss was in, in his office, the door to which was shut. With a deep breath I braced myself and knocked his door with one hand while the other held firmly onto the cup of tea I'd prepared.
"Come in," called a softer, friendlier voice than the one I remembered from the previous day.
Another deep breath and I virtually threw the door open to find the smiling friendly face of Denton Miller, the one I recalled from our webcam chats looking up at me with a warm friendliness I hadn't expected.
"Lovely to finally meet you properly El, sorry about yesterday, it all went a little pear shaped," he explained with another smile.
'Pear shaped' was not how I would have expected anyone to describe being caught with their head between their mistress' legs, but there it was. I really wished I hadn't thought of that, I couldn't remember the last time I had been on the receiving end of a head between my thighs, er, never, not properly anyway.
In an instant I thought of Cy, his touch, how intensely I had felt it, how intensely I'd come, both times and foolishly allowed myself to wonder what his tongue would feel like, running along my whole length, although I understood that not everyone was into that. Michael had told me on more than one occasion that it was something some men did out of obligation, but most disliked it, I supposed it really was a matter of taste. Why had I even gone out last night? My boss' fucking and my own were now fucking with my whole life, so much so that I didn't even giggle at my own unintentional little 'taste' joke.
"Your tea," I managed to say when my mind returned to the room my body occupied.
"Tea?" Mr Miller asked with first a frown and then a smile that threw me, causing me to stumble in the middle of the room. "Sorry, I think there's been some confusion, I don't drink tea, my wife is the tea drinker, she's English you know," he told me, positively beaming as he mentioned her and made it even more impossible to reconcile this image, this man with the wayward, cheating, cunnilingus giving man of yesterday. "I'm a coffee guy, through and through," he laughed.
Maybe I'd got it wrong, but he had said tea yesterday, up until ten o'clock unless I was going completely, clinically insane and was imagining details.
"Oh, sorry, I'll get you some coffee," I offered, already turning to exit the room, only to find myself crashing into a solid wall of muscle, muscle whose pristine white shirt was now covered in tea, yes my world was turning into a tragic farce, if such a thing could co-exist. Apologetically I looked up to actually apologise only to find two big, familiar pools of melted chocolate staring down at me, Cy, my nameless, adulterous encounter. This had to be a nightmare that I was about to wake up from, but seemingly not.
"Jeez, what the fuc..."
"Denton Miller Junior, do not finish off that sentence to a lady," my boss behind the desk bellowed causing me to spill the final drops of tea onto the chest before me.
"Lady," he cursed beneath his breath before I realised that my boss was Denton Miller Senior and he had just called my dance partner from last night Denton Miller Junior, I was beyond fucked here; the father knew my husband and my husband's old friend's son had shagged his wife! Definitely more farce than tragedy right now.
"El, are you ok?" Senior asked as he appeared at my side. "Go and gather your thoughts and maybe bring back some coffee for us all," he suggested with another warm smile.
"And some cleaning cloths!" snapped Junior. "And tea, I have tea, I emailed you," he added as something resembling a stone settled in the pit of my stomach.
"I think you've had your tea," Senior laughed as I actually ran from the room and doubted that I could ever return.
This couldn't be happening, how could it be, and what the hell was fate playing at now I asked myself as I attempted to stop myself hyperventilating. I sat in the corner of the tea room, on the floor and pressed my head between my knees, taking deep breaths before deciding that I needed to put my big girl pants on and put up or sod off home!
With a tray of coffee and tea for one, dash of milk, no sugar I re-entered the office of my earlier mortification to find Senior sitting behind the desk and Junior emerging from the en-suite bathroom naked from the chest up. This was not going to be as simple as pulling on big girl pants, especially not when all I could think about was him removing them for me.
"Ooh, I, erm," I stammered allowing myself an ogle of the firm chest, torso and muscular shoulders and upper arms that were adorned with tattoos.
"You should maybe turn around if the sight of me is likely to result in a whole tray of drinks falling," he sneered at me, but still I stared with my drying mouth hanging open.
"Cy, cover up and stop being an ass!" Senior told Junior reminding me of his presence. "El, please, come and sit down so we can cover the changes that occurred yesterday."
Finally, I was able to turn away and followed my boss' orders, taking one of the seats across from his. Junior took the other seat, next to me making me question whether this was judgement, or punishment for my sins the night before, forcing us together, in front of his dad, my boss, my husband's old associate, and friend, especially when he kept drinking in the shape of my legs, his eyes roving up and down.
"Buckle up Ms Ross, I think we're in for a bumpy ride," Junior told me without expression but his pronunciation of Ms seemed loaded.
"So, let me introduce you formally, Miss Ross, Eloise, my son, Denton Miller Junior, Cy to his friends."
I turned to smile only to find a tight and curt expression staring back at me, "You should call me Mr Miller," he added with acidity making it clear that I was not a friend.
"As of yesterday El things changed with our company. There were some personal reasons in me taking over here, at the UK end of things, but those things have changed meaning that I will be returning to The States in a couple of weeks to run things from there leaving Cy to take over here at the European end."
"I see," I muttered wondering where that left me. "Will you be bringing your own PA on board?" I asked unsure how long I could help out with charities and the golf club I despised if I lost my job so soon.
"My last PA is currently in the Eastern European office, so no. My father insists that your credentials are second to none, so we'll see," Junior sneered earning another reproachful glare from his father.
"El, your job here is safe," Senior assured me with a smile. "Your role hasn't changed, ours have and as I say only because of changes to a personal situation..."
"Dad I am sure Ms Ross has no need or desire to know our personal situation!"
"Cy!" his father chastened again, "El, I apologise for my son's rudeness, I have no idea what has gotten into him today, although he is never the easiest person to work for," he mumbled without expansion. "He certainly wasn't raised this way."
I nodded for no reason other than I didn't know what else to do and was relieved when Senior ran through my role again, which as he'd said hadn't changed and then we somehow got onto the subject of travel and The States which is when he genuinely said, "You know when you get time you should come out and visit, we'd love to have you over."
Whilst the offer was generous I had in no way been expecting it, an invite to visit Senior and his wife, but I knew the offer was to me and Michael together, unlike Junior who for the second time that day ended up wearing tea down his shirt, this time as a result of him choking on a mouthful that now covered his chest.
"For fuck's sake!" he shouted making me jump next to him.
"Cy," his dad began but found himself cut off.
"No, Dad, no, what is going on here? She is my PA, you do not invite staff home to visit, not unless you are having a mid-life crisis and plan on getting me a new mommy, and I don't think Ms Ross would suit your needs, not to mention the fact that Mom would kick your ass! Especially after that friend of yours did it, the one you bought this place off, Stanton," Junior laughed completely missing his father's horrified expression, mine not so much so, I knew what people had most likely thought about me when I had got together with Michael. "You know that although Mom says live and let live she has no time for young, pretty girls on the make, taking advantage of, and I quote, 'old, stupid, rich guys', so Ms Ross don't start packing or sorting a visa anytime soon."
"Hey, are you lot slacking already?" came the call behind us.
"Definitely a farce, I hate farce," I whispered to myself earning a puzzled frown from Junior while Senior was leaping to his feet a little too enthusiastically to greet our visitor, my husband.
"Hey, look at you!" Senior shouted, again overenthusiastically making Junior frown quizzically in his direction, whereas I just wanted to wake up, or fall into a coma, or die, whatever would get me away from here quickest.
"I should go," I muttered getting up on shaky legs that struggled to move me.
"What's the hurry?" Junior asked reaching for my elbow to slow my retreat.
"Don't rush off on my account love," Michael said when I eventually reached him. "Sorry, you're cross with me aren't you, for turning up here?"
Yes I was, furious, but if I hadn't shagged my new, new boss the night before would I have been quite so cross at my husband's presence?
"Sorry," he offered with a childish pout that normally melted my resolve, but today it just made me want to punch him, as did his arm scooting around my waist. "Forgive me, I couldn't resist sneaking a peak at the old place," was his next excuse before seeing Junior on my other side, but no longer cupping my elbow.
He had released me and was staring between his father and Michael, but more so between Michael and me.
"Michael Stanton, and you are, Cy? Bloody hell, it must be fifteen, twenty years since I last saw you," my husband said offering his free hand in greeting.
"Mr Stanton," Junior replied, still staring at Michael's arm around my middle with a look I couldn't fathom, but it wasn't positive.
"You seem to have already made my wife's acquaintance."
I now decided that death was the only way out of this unscathed upon hearing my husband's choice of words, 'made my wife's acquaintance'! Who the fuck speaks that way outside of a Jane Austen novel? Michael Edgar Stanton, that's who.
"And then some!" I heard Junior say as he somehow managed to lean in towards me without appearing suspicious.
"Michael, I need to get on," I said, finally finding my voice, shaking my husband off.
"Yes you do. Thank you, Ms Ross, Mrs Stanton!" Junior said with a snarl for my married name. "We will catch up in a while," he added.
Yes, I officially wanted to die I decided in that moment until I realised that Junior, Cy, Denton Miller Junior was watching me leave, raking across my body from my hair that was up in a messy bun right down to the soles of my shoes, maybe I didn't want to die, not yet.
I ensured that I closed the door behind me, I needed a barrier between me and, all of them really. Once settled behind my desk I made preparations for the next few day's work and sent some emails before going back to the kitchen to wash-up, including both tea cups whose contents had decorated my boss' shirt, again. I giggled at the memory of him doused in his own tea, twice I remembered and laughed, to myself, but still out loud.
"I had no idea you were his wife when I made the comment about him."
Turning on my heels I found myself face to face with Junior again, although once I'd looked up at him I decided that Junior was not an appropriate name for my boss.
"I know, your face said as much when he introduced himself," I replied hoping we'd be able find some neutral ground to work on.
"Why were you trying to hide it?" he asked with a more accusatory tone suddenly, so maybe he didn't do neutral, he shags you or gives you a hard time.
Another laugh escaped from me as I thought that my summing up was a hard time either way.
"You think this is funny? That one of your extra marital hook-ups is now in my fucking office, that I was the hook-up and your stupidly grateful husband is an old friend of my father's? You are un-fucking-believable Mrs Stanton," he barked full of fury that I reciprocated with a sharp slap across his cheek.
"How dare you!" I snarled back. "I don't do extra marital anything, didn't and I had no clue who you were last night, or this morning and do I look amused, do I?" I asked him shaking with anger, "And lose the judgemental Mrs Stanton or you might find yesterday morning's hors d'oeuvre getting another bunch of flowers telling her that you might be an arsehole, but you're actually a cheating arsehole!"
"What? You're threatening to tell Tia about last night? And it's asshole!" he said incredulously with a slightly smarmy smirk that only annoyed me more. "Is this where you tell me that your husband doesn't understand you?"
"I'm not telling you anything about my husband and you heard exactly what I said," I replied as my breathing echoed around the small room we were sharing. "And it's arse-hole," I corrected emphasising each part of the word.
"Yes I heard what you said but you should be aware Ms Ross that you are pissing me off, you have been pissing me off since you revealed your marital status, post coitus and I am not known for my tolerance so consider yourself warned."
"Darling," Michael's voice acted as an interruption, again. "I know you're angry..."
"Michael, please go home, I'm at work, I have things to do and you're not helping by being here, quite the opposite is true, so please, go home, walk the dog," I begged almost crying with frustration.
"Ok, ok. I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable," Michael replied, guilt covering his face making me soften in response to his sincerity and my own guilt.
Cy remained with us, having moved behind my husband, watching us, but when Michael pulled me in for a gentle hug Cy's expression became conflicted making him impossible to read, if he was ever anything else. As quickly as he pulled me to him Michael released me with a smile.
"Nice to see you again Cy and as you're new in town make a date for dinner with El," Michael told him causing us both to stare wildly. "At our house, El's a dab hand in the kitchen, nobody cooks up a storm like she does"
"I can imagine," is how Cy replied with an arched brow making me want to slap him again, harder. "I'll see if I'm available and let Mrs Stanton know."
Yeah a much, much harder slap I decided as Michael added, "It's her birthday soon, well, in a few months. Maybe we could have a pre-birthday and new job dinner?"
That's the end of the sample. If you'd like to read the rest of the book you can find it on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01NBV3UQU/ref=wl_it_dp_o_pd_nS_ttl?_encoding=UTF8&colid=2BZ2MKCGU3ZO9&coliid=I2PDI8LAE1XA17