I would have stayed with him all night, regardless of the consequences. “Just a few more minutes,” I begged.
He laughed softly and pulled me back into him. “Of course, baby. I want to give you everything you need.”
I tilted my head back inviting him into my lips, “I need you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, securing me in his gaze. “I need you.” His words took my breath away, literally. Somehow him wanting me, made it hard to breathe, made my chest ache in pain and pleasure at the same time.
We blew out the remaining candles then walked through the darkness back down the stairs. On the bottom step he grabbed my arm, spun me around, then indulged me in a long kiss goodnight. A feverish kiss. The kind of kiss you get from a man indulging in the moment.
“Text me when you’re in for the night, if you can, only if you can,” he said. “Don’t take any chances.”
“I will, and I won’t.”
“Remember to delete any texts you send, and any you receive—then delete the deleted texts. Right?”
“Believe me, Grant, I will.” And I did. But not until after I wrote each one of them down in a word document and saved them to my computer under the file name “favorite book quotes.”
“Goodnight, baby.” He kissed me one last time before he walked away.
As he disappeared into the blustery night I wallowed on the bottom step, overcome with emotion. Sadness, elation, hope, fear were mixed up into mess of feelings.
Then after what I deemed to be a reasonable amount of time for us not to be seen together I stood up, ready to leave, and found my lower body paralyzed from piercing pain.
Pain seared across my lower back and forced me to my knees, I gripped the handrail to keep from falling, and when I tried to move again, that’s when I heard it.
Pop!
It was a pop like when you smack your lips together. Except this pop was much deeper, more muffled and dense followed by crunching and grinding sounds when I moved. It was a crackling noise you might hear at bonfire, not something normal coming from a living body.
I hobbled through the bitter wind and plunked down into my frozen car. Barely able to lift my left leg to push in the clutch, I drove in third gear most of the way home, coasting to the stop lights, praying for green so I wouldn’t have to start over from first gear.
At the grocery store, I pushed a cart so I could lean on it, dug out my extra-large bottle of Ibuprofen and grabbed a water from the check-out stand. I twisted the seal and chugged, not caring that I hadn’t paid for it yet. I gathered up a few items to make my trip legitimate then headed for home. The pain slowly subsided but after that night, it never went away again.
Going home to Levi felt like cheating on Grant. Had it been the other way around and Grant was going home to his wife…it would have been intolerable for my fragile female ego. I would have drove myself nuts thinking about them. Would he have sex with her? Would he show her the same affection he showed me? When is he going to leave her? I would have made a horrible mistress.
As my garage door shut, I took a moment to re-read, commit to memory so I could write it down later, then delete any incriminating data from my phone. I hobbled into the foyer with my plastic grocery bags and the fear of Grant’s scent in my hair. The house was dark and silent, I put away my strawberries and Boca burgers, went into Dani’s room, kissed her pale smooth cheek then retreated to my bedroom exhausted, ready for sleep.
When I opened the door I saw the familiar flicker of candle flames.
***
Goodnite, baby. :) I wish
I were next to u right now.
We fit so fcking gr8 2gether!
Chapter 24
“A WOMAN OF WORTH IS A CROWN TO HER HUSBAND;
BUT SHE THAT MAKETH ASHAMED IS AS ROTTENNESS IN HIS BONES.”
—PROVERBS 12:4
Levi was sprawled out on top of the covers in nothing but his bare torso and boxers.
“Hi sweetheart,” he said, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The tone of his voice already trying to seduce me.
I let out an annoyed sigh then muttered, “hi,” in the most irritated, don’t-even-try-to-fucking-touch-me, way possible, then walked past him and into the closet. I pulled out an old T-shirt, a clean pair of panties, and the ugliest sleep shorts I could find, then went into the bathroom to undress and avoid an unwanted mauling.
Knowing he was expecting…it, I lolly-gagged in the shower, dilly-dallied brushing, flossing and whitening my teeth, tweezed my eyebrows and clipped my toenails. Then I sat on the ledge of the tub, turned off the audible click of text messaging and smiled at the thought of him.
I’m so glad I got 2 see u
2nite! U make me melt.
I’ll txt u 2morrow. I’m
going 2 bed. Don’t text
back. :) Goodnite.
Then I deleted the message, then deleted the deleted message.
After what must have been forty five minutes I stuffed in my headphones, slipped my phone between my hip and the elastic of my shorts, then executed my plan: act tired, complain about being exhausted, listen to music, ignore him.
I walked around to my side of the bed, fluffed my pillow, then discretely slid it in-between us creating my nightly barrier. I laid on my side with my back to him and pulled the comforter up to my chin.
“Goodnight,” I whispered into the candlelight and yawned, “what a long day, I’m so tired.”
The flickering shadow growing larger on the wall told me I wasn’t going to get off that easy. I felt Levi mosey closer to me, then drape himself over the pillow barrier.
“I thought maybe we could be romantic.” He said in the most gentle, tip-toeing way, making me feel terrible for rejecting him for the trillionth time when he was trying to be sweet.
“I don’t think so; I don’t feel up to it.”
Please, please, please, let that work.
“You don’t have to do anything,” He said as he slid his hand onto my flank. “You always like it once we get into it.” His voice was optimistic, not yet laced with the tone of bitter rejection—but that would come.
“You’re right I do. But I really can’t tonight, I have to get up early tomorrow.” I silently begged him to stop and resisted the urge to ask him to please take your hand off me. I pulled the barrier pillow snug against my back and wrapped myself tighter into the comforter. I sensed the looming freak-out.
“God! You never want to have sex, I’m your husband! What do you expect me to do?”
Jerk off?
“My own wife doesn’t even want to touch me, do you know how that makes me feel?” He said as he pressed his face close to mine. He knew how to push my buttons, how to rile me. But on that night I just cowered into my pillow, wanting to go to sleep, trying not to get angry.
“I know, I’m really sorry, I just can’t make myself do it when I don’t want to,” I pleaded.
He got out of bed, threw his hands up and yelled, “well why don’t you want to? Do you think I’m disgusting or something? Why won’t you even kiss me?”
“Levi calm down, it’s too late to argue like this. Besides, you don’t want to sleep with me when I’m not into it anyway, what fun is that?”
“You’re my wife. You should want to!”
I sighed, annoyed by his comment, but I knew he was right. I should want to, but I didn’t.
“You really are a cold hearted bitch, you know that?”
“Yes, I know that. But thank you for reminding me.” I stuffed my head further into my pillow and started to cry, most of it fake, hoping it would make him go away.
“Oh great, now your crying when I should be the one upset—figures.”
Levi rustled with his pillows then ripped the comforter from my listless body, leaving me cold and exposed. He mumbled something as he was leaving then slammed the bedroom door. I flung myself up, grabbed a blanket from under the bed, blew out the candle then patted the empty space beside me as I called for B
odi.
“Come here boy, come on. Come snuggle.”
Bodi lept from his cool spot on the floor, wiggled his miniature rust colored tail, then curled himself into a circle next to me. He tucked his snout into the warmth of his hind legs and closed his eyes, unaffected by our outburst.
I pressed play on my iPod and tried to do the same. “Moonlight Sonata,” again.
***
In order to avoid a catastrophe, Grant and I established rules for communication:
(1) He can’t call me, only I can call him.
(2) He can’t text me unless I text him first. I will let him know if he can or can’t text back.
(3) If a text seems “off,” it might be a trap and he’ll respond with I think I have the wrong number? Who is this? If it is me, then I will respond with, “It’s me, you Dingo.”
(4) All text messages sent, received and deleted must be deleted after reading, as well as the call logs.
(5) If he needed to get a hold of me, he could send me an e-mail, which also must be deleted after reading, along with the delete folder and recycle bin, just in case.
I was reading and sending so many text messages and e-mails each day, I didn’t have time to work. My clients got fat, I was late for appointments, and my brain was a jumbled up maze of racing thoughts, all of which looped back to him.
Going to the grocery store was my usual alibi so I could sneak away and call him. He answered right away, he always answered right away.
“Hello, this is Grant,” he said in a serious tone, like it was a business call, as if he didn’t know it was me.
“Hello,” I said, in a faked voice. “Is this the Grant that likes to hook up with his best friend’s sister?”
“Yes, it is true, and I need to be punished.” We shared a giddy chuckle. “When can I see you again, baby?”
“Soon I hope. I miss you,” I said.
“I miss you too. When can you get free?”
“How about Wednesday night?”
“Perfect. What will you tell Levi?”
“I’ll tell him I have in-home sessions, he has no idea where my clients live or who they are, and he doesn’t suspect anything anyway, so it’ll be fine.” Grant snickered at my deviousness, he wasn’t thrilled to be sneaking around but he was happy I was thinking ahead and wiping our prints clean. “You pick the place this time.”
“Hmmm, yes, I’ll pick. Somewhere without glass walls. Come to my office, no one is there at night.”
“I would love to come to your office.”
“Great, I can’t wait to see you and your tight little tush again,” he said. “Do you think you’ll have another chance to call today?”
“I’ll make an opportunity.”
“I’ll keep my phone on me but I might not have a signal where I’m hiking, so leave a message if it’s okay to call back.”
“Aww, I want to go for a hike,” I whined. “Where are you?”
“The Superior Trail near Duluth.”
“Ugh…fun, I wish I was there,” I pushed out my bottom lip, “will you bring me sometime?”
“Yes. Baby, you know we will go hiking many, many times.”
“Promise?” I said, like an insecure teen asking her first boyfriend to never break up with her.
“Of course I promise.” He spoke with a confidence I didn’t yet have. “You should send me some pics today,” he suggested in the most scandalous tone.
“I’ll send one if you send one,” I said.
“Um…I’ll think about it.”
“Come on, it’s only fair that way.”
“Okay, if you send me some really good ones, then I’ll seriously consider it. Gotta go babe, Mwah!” He said as he smacked his lips.
After we hung up, I sat in my car with the windows sealed tight, cut-off from the outside world I basked in his attention, smiling and giggling to myself like I’d just been asked out by the cutest boy in school. I soaked up the feelings of being wanted by the most wanted man I’d ever known.
Later that day I sent the first sext. A pic of my nude legs from the top of my inner thighs to my toes, submerged in a steamy bath. It got an immediate response.
Oh God, babe. I almost
choked! Sexy! More, more!
I wish I were in that bath. ;)
I wish u were 2. :0
Then he sent one of himself. Not too daring, but admirable. His whitey tighties peaked out of his jeans and clung to his subtly toned torso. His arms and chest were firm, defined but not huge, just delicious. His phone covered his handsome profile, concealing his identity.
Now it was my turn again. I pulled open the top drawer of my dresser to find something to put on, only to be mortified that I didn’t own lingerie in any other color than some shade of old-lady-beige. I immediately went to Victoria’s Secret, bought a dozen colors of cotton thongs and a few lacy push up bras.
So that Levi didn’t find my new, barely-there trove, I stashed all but a couple of the panties in my gym locker. Then stuffed a few of the not-so-obvious pieces in my underwear drawer behind the sea of don’t-touch-me taupe.
Black lace bra, deep purple panties, face concealed, click, send…
So fucking hot, baby!
More, more, more!
Black lace bra, deep purple panties, tugged down, face concealed, click, send…Every picture received an immediate reaction.
Ur in so much trouble,
u hot sexy babe! Quit it.
Ur torturing me! Okay.
Send more. :D
I was eager to please, so I kept the naughty pictures uploading, each a little more risky than that last. I tried to send them during his most inopportune times, during work meetings, conference calls, while he was training in an employee, or solving some complicated mathematical equation. I tried hard to match up his every work obligation with a near nudie.
Ur gunna get it!
I sent him the most scantily clad picture when I knew he was having dinner with his family. No bra, no panties, cheeky shorts barely on one cheek, click, send…
U fucking hottie, wearing
my fave shorts. Maybe we
could slide them over and
slide me in. :0
I’m not sending another
Until u send 1 to me. And
it’d better be good!
I patiently waited for the chime, and when it came in, my mouth fell open. His handsome face was shrouded by his phone, and his package was concealed behind an army green duffel bag that sat on top of a bathroom counter. He was blissfully indecent and completely out did me with the full nudie. I immediately responded.
Holy shit, u r so hot!
Nice duffel bag. :) Im
so lucky!
No, I am the lucky 1. :)
Really? Did he really feel lucky to be with me? I read it twice, once out loud, but I still couldn’t believe it.
I wasn’t daring enough to send a full nudie so I had to figure out another way to one-up him. This weekend, when he was on stage, when I knew he couldn’t answer his phone—I’d leave him a red-hot naughty voice mail. After I indulged in a few full glasses of Cabernet.
***
It was finally Wednesday.
As planned, I told Levi, “I have to work late tonight, I have in-home clients. I should be home around ten or sometime after.”
“You sure have to work late a lot,” he huffed.
“I have a client that wants to get in. Its good money, what do you care anyway?”
He spoke with disdain. “I don’t care. I was just saying.”
I kissed Dani goodbye, flung my bag onto my shoulder and walked out. I did actually see a client or two, but canceled my last session, spewing some lame lie from my unfaithful lips so I could free up an additional hour to be with Grant.
I made the forbidden call. “I’m free,” I said. Wishing I was saying those words and referring to an entirely different context.
“Great, I’ve been waiting for you. Can’t wait to see you. Pu
ll around to the south side of the building, then park next to the big van so it conceals your car from the road.”
I did what he said. I hid my little car behind the big van with Spy2 on the license plate, next to a long rectangular warehouse. He was waiting for me at the side door and pulled me in by my sleeve.
A white box with glowing green buttons was mounted on the wall just inside the door. I watched as he punched in a few numbers arming the system, then turned back to the door and looked in all directions to make sure I wasn’t followed. When he was satisfied that I was alone, he gave me a playful rough kiss then pulled me swiftly behind him. I found myself in a dark sprawling warehouse with boxes stacked on shelves to the ceiling.
“You look so good, baby—my sexy vixen,” he said. Then tugged me into him, lifted the cheeky black mini skirt that clung to my yoga pants and inspected me, “I like this.”
Then he slid his fingertips down the length of my arm then into my palm, brushing past my wedding ring as he interlacing our hands. Our palms pressed together tightly, and I was acutely aware of the cold metal wedged between us.
Taking off my wedding ring would be so final and I wasn’t quite ready. Everything had happened so fast, I didn’t have time to think through what my plan was. I knew I had to make some hard decisions, plan my getaway. It all felt so paralyzing, I didn’t know how or where to begin. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t keep having an affair. I hated the way lies felt on my tongue and how guilt sat heavy on my shoulders.
“Is there anyone here?” I asked as I draped myself over him.
“No, baby, just us.”
***
Honey, u are so fucking
hot! Loved our time 2
gether. :D Now, let’s do
it again. Yes, please.
Thank you. :)
Chapter 25
BE·LO·EVD: A PERSON WHO IS GREATLY LOVED —DICTIONARY.COM
I remember that night at his office with a crisp clarity. It was the night that he told me he loved me.
I clutched his shoulders as he hoisted me onto a wooden work bench then nudged my knees apart. He stood between them without hesitation and gave me exactly what I needed:
Affairytale : A Memoir Page 15
