The Affair: A Romance Novella

by J.C. Valentine

  THE AFFAIR

  USA Today Bestselling Author

  J.C. VALENTINE

  Copyright © 2016 by J.C. Valentine

  Cover design by Brandi Salazar Editorial Services

  Interior book design by J.C. Valentine

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Acknowledgements

  For my children: You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. You make every day brighter than the last. Everything I do is for you <3

  As always, thank you to my editor, Mitzi, for making my stories shine and for being a wonderful friend! For my PA, Mia, for having not run the other way yet lol. Everything you do for me is noticed and appreciated more than words can ever express. Everything.

  Finally, to you, dear readers, for reading. Whether you have been on board since the beginning with the Night Calls Series, or are new to my work, know that I cherish you. I couldn’t be where I am now without you. You give me the courage and drive to create these stories with your wonderful and kind words. I am always thrilled to hear your thoughts, and your feedback is important, so I hope you will consider leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, and/or your other preferred retailer sites. Xoxoxox

  ONE

  I’ve never done anything like this before. Me, a married woman with kids, sitting alone in a hotel bar drinking cheap, bubbly champagne from a fluted glass.

  The last time I had champagne was at my wedding twelve years ago. I was younger then, able to stay up past midnight without looking like something death ran over. I had a better body then, too. No stretch marks. Tight stomach. Twenty pounds lighter. My boobs were fantastic, too, defying the laws of gravity. Certainly no need for the uncomfortable underwire pushup from Victoria’s Secret to make them look good.

  But I digress.

  I’ve never deliberately sat in a bar waiting for someone to notice me. A nice someone. Someone with dark, kind eyes that hold an edge of danger. Someone that lights that fire in my belly from just a look, the barest touch.

  After popping out two kids and spending the last seven and a half years running endless errands and performing maid duties in exchange for a weekly romance novel stipend and the occasional functional haircut when time allows, I’ve missed that feeling. You know the one—excitement, flare, burning desire. I’m at the point in my life where I need to reclaim a part of myself. That part that needs to be reminded she’s still a woman. A woman with needs. With desires. With dreams and passions and a zest for life.

  That’s why I’m here tonight. While my children play gin rummy and eat far too many sweets with my in-laws, I’m on a mission to rediscover the vibrant, sexy, confident woman I used to be.

  Gone are the pajama pants and loose fitting tops. Gone are the haphazard buns and pasty, freckled skin. It’s all been replaced. My mask of carefully applied makeup, artfully designed hair done up in a modern Fifties-Era style, costume jewelry, and shaper wear under a body-hugging little black dress are all in place and ready to kill.

  My wedding ring—a plain gold band—catches the light as I lift the glass to my lips. Bradley is a good man, a great husband, and an even better father. But we’ve lost that spark, the one that first drew us together back when we were barely adults, fresh out of high school.

  He was in a band then. Super sexy with his long, shaggy hair and a deep, gravelly voice that turned my brain to mush and my insides into an inferno. We were electric together. Then life and responsibilities happened and...well...here I am.

  It took a lot of pep talks to get me here. A lot of planning, too. This kind of thing doesn’t just happen on a whim. Not when you have a family to care for. But it’s been a long time coming, and even though I’m feeling the single glass of champagne, and I know I’m going to pay for the lack of sleep for days to come, it’s worth it. Tonight is as much for me as it is for Bradley. This is going to be the catalyst our marriage needs to jump-start it back in the right direction, to be rejuvenated.

  Tonight, I’m free to be whoever the hell I want to be.

  TWO

  I don’t have to wait long before someone catches my eye. He’s just walked into the bar; his tall, wide frame takes up most of the entrance. He’s dressed sharp in a three-piece suit, the dark color difficult to discern in the dim lighting. I’d guess black, but my gut says navy. His jacket hangs open, his colorful purple patterned tie is askew, popping out against the white shirt beneath. His hair, a gorgeous salt and pepper, is mussed, as if he’s been running his hands through it.

  He looks stressed, as if he’s just come off a hard day’s work and is looking to blow off some steam.

  He and I both, I think wickedly. This could be the one, the guy I’ve been waiting to find all night. All week. Hell, all month. I’ve been planning this for a while, and even though my stomach is a mess of butterflies in flight, it’s not all nerves. There’s a healthy dose of anticipation mixed in there too.

  I bring my glass of Chardonnay to my lips and sip it as I peer over the rim, casually inspecting him. His graying hair suggests he’s got at least twenty years on my thirty-five, but the toned, sun-kissed skin coupled with the apex predator way in which he strides toward the bar—smooth, long, confident, and predatory—place him right in my ballpark.

  I try to play it cool and easy when he stops a few feet away and leans one elbow onto the bar. He orders a vodka neat, which surprises me for some reason. I had him pegged as a whiskey man. This close, he’s even more handsome than I’d realized. A hint of a beard covering a strong jaw, firm, full, kissable lips, and a strong neck that begs to be licked.

  He must feel me staring. Shifting his attention my way, our gazes clash and I’m pretty sure my heart flatlines for the span of a few seconds.

  Eyes that remind me of the green sand of Papakōlea Beach where Bradley and I honeymooned stare back at me. I’ve never seen such a vivid color on a person before, and the effect against his fair hair and darker complexion creates a stunning effect.

  If I weren’t already a married woman, it’d be love at first sight.

  The skin around the corners of his eyes crinkles as he smiles and sidles closer, and I realize I must look like a deer in the headlights—I’m staring so hard.

  I feel the flush of heat rise into my cheeks as he extends his hand. “Hi. I’m Will.”

  My hand slides against his rough, calloused one. Goose bumps erupt across every inch of my skin at the contact. It’s electrifying. I’ve always loved the way a man looks in a suit, but I find one that works with his hands and doesn’t mind getting dirty in the process is what really gets me going.

  Something in this man’s twinkling eyes tells me that, outside the office, he’s exactly the kind of man I’m looking for—free, easy, and ready for action.

  “Hi, I’m…” My thoughts freeze up. Shit! I forgot to settle on an alias! I’ve considered so many, but on the spot as I am now, I can’t think of a single one. Meanwhile, he’s waiting for an answer to what should be the easiest question in the world. The longer I wait, the more suspicious I become. Under pressure, I almost conside
r giving him my real name—what are the chances we’ll ever run into each other again?—when I remember an old porn star name game my friends and I used to play in college.

  Pairing the name of the street I grew up on with the name of my first pet, I tell him, “Jasmine…” At the last minute I decide to hold back on the fake last name. He didn’t give me his, so we’re on a first name basis until he tells me otherwise. No sense in handing out too much information. The less I know about him and he knows about me the better.

  His lips twitch. “Jasmine. I like it. Although it would have been more convincing without the awkward pause. And the wedding band.”

  Instantly, my gaze shoots down and I see my ring shining back at me. Guilt reaches up and slaps me in the face, but not for the reason one might think. I don’t feel guilty for being here, with this man. This whole experiment is, after all, going to return the spark to my marriage. No, the guilt comes from trying and failing to deceive this man.

  I should have taken the ring off. Now, my job is that much harder. There’s a good chance that this man, my first prospect, will consider me too much of a challenge and I’ll be back to square one. Then again, he is a man, and what’s more exciting than free sex with an element of danger?

  Just thinking about it revs my engine, and I have to drink more wine in order to cool off. If anything, though, it has the opposite effect. The more I drink, the hotter I get, and the hotter I get, the more I want to take my clothes off.

  I wonder how long it will take for me to talk this guy upstairs to the room I’ve rented out for the evening. I refuse to entertain the idea that he won’t. I only have a few hours to pull off what has taken me months to set up. I’ve been smart, saving up cash so there’s no paper trail, nothing to explain. As long as I get home before Bradley, that is; then, all anyone will ever know is that I went out for some fun with the girls.

  “Are you drinking alone tonight?”

  I look up into Will’s mesmerizing eyes and, tracing the tip of my finger around the rim of my wine glass, I say, “Unfortunately.”

  The way he smiles and his eyes linger let me know that he’s already hooked. “Mind if I keep you company?”

  My smile is wide and eager. “Not at all.”

  He slips into the seat beside me with fluid grace. It’s impressive that a man his size can do that when I haven’t even mastered walking upstairs without tripping over my own feet.

  He sips his drink and I do the same, exchanging casual glances combined with coy smiles until our glasses come up empty. Will orders another round for both of us, and we dissolve into idle chitchat, asking where each other is from, what we do for a living. Covering the basics is just a tease, a game of cat and mouse, because we both know where this is heading.

  By the time we’ve drained the last of the third round of drinks, Will stands from his stool and, wearing a crooked half-smile that’s full of expectation, asks, “Care to join me upstairs for a nightcap?”

  I hold back the wide smile that aches to be revealed and instead push my glass away as I stand to join him. “I have a better idea. How about you join me?”

  He looks surprised. “You have a room here?”

  I step in front of him, enjoying the heat of his large hand pressing against the small of my back as I lead the way. “I believe in coming prepared.”

  He makes a grunt of what I assume to be agreement…or appreciation. I’m sure a man of his caliber is used to making all the decisions, but I’m taking the lead tonight. Raising kids, it’s rare when I can claim moments of true control. Not to mention, being in the situation I’ve placed myself in demands it. I can’t allow variables in this equation or I’ll risk everything unravelling.

  We take the elevator in silence. His presence takes up the scant space between us, filling it with warmth and anticipation. My heart beats a mile a minute and my blood roars in my veins. I’ve been waiting a long time for this, and now that it’s finally here, my need is a physical ache. My body demands satiation.

  I swipe the keycard, waiting until the light turns green before opening the door to my room. Will follows me in, keeping close. I half expect him to tackle me the second the door closes, but he’s a gentleman, which is sorely disappointing.

  Using the wall for support, I slip out of my shoes. “Would you like a drink?” I ask, remembering his offer of a nightcap.

  When I’m met with only silence, I look up to find him standing in the shadow of the doorway, his light eyes dancing with something dark and robust. His tie is lying bunched up at his feet. Instantly, shivers race through me.

  Reaching up, he begins plucking the buttons on his shirt free, revealing burnished skin inch by sexy inch. “The only thing I’m thirsty for is you,” comes his husky reply.

  My mouth forms an “O” as I stand up straight and turn to face him head-on. He approaches slowly, his eyes locked on mine as his fingers reach the last button and he tugs the shirt free from his waistband.

  A light dusting of dark hair covers a lean, taut torso that’s just fit enough to hint at abs without being overly dramatic. I watch as he slips his shirt off then gets to work on releasing his belt.

  My gaze lowers, and I can clearly make out the defined swell of his cock straining against the zipper. Even in the low light, it promises to be massive, and I secretly pray that the hand stitching holding the material together is capable of holding up under what must be immense pressure.

  When the belt comes loose, Will drags it slowly off, one belt loop at a time. He’s a tease, I realize, tantalizing my senses, amping up my anticipation until my knees grow weak. That is, until I bring my gaze back up to meet his and realize that he’s just as worked up as I am.

  “I don’t usually do this kind of thing,” he claims.

  One eyebrow arches and a small laugh escapes me. “I’d almost believe that if you hadn’t been so quick to invite me up to your room.”

  My breaths falter as he closes the distance between us until he’s bearing down on me. He’s so tall. I feel small, at his mercy. The sensation works for me, and I feel a flood of arousal leak out between my thighs, wetting my black silk panties. He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m more than ready for him.

  I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, wetting it before adding, “For the record, I don’t usually do this kind of thing either.”

  “I’d almost believe you if you hadn’t been so quick to invite me to your room,” he husks, feeding my words back to me. Folding the belt in half, Will clenches it in his fist. I follow the strap of leather as he lifts it to my arm and traces my bare shoulder, lightly scraping my skin as he drags it down to my wrists. Goose bumps follow in its wake, and I shiver once again.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks softly as he drags the belt up the front of my thigh and lightly teases my mound. I assume by the way he crowds my personal space and teases my pussy that this is just a formality. He’s giving me one chance—and one chance only—to change my mind, but we both know that’s not going to happen.

  Lifting my chin, I look up into his cool water gaze and tell him, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

  His smirk is devilish and his eyes cloud over with the same impatient desire that’s filling my stomach with butterflies and causing my heart to pound like a drum. In the span of a heartbeat, Will snatches me by the waist and hauls me against his chest. His lips come crashing down on mine in a fevered kiss. Instantly, my fingers delve into his lush hair, and I crush myself against every hard line of his body, eagerly kissing him back.

  He swallows my desperate moans. His hands skim down my backside, pausing briefly to give my cheeks a rough squeeze before continuing their path to my thighs. With impatience, his fingers dig in and he lifts my feet off the floor.

  Automatically, I wrap my legs around his hips, pressing the molten heat pouring from my needy core against his stomach, as he carries me to the bed.

  Dumping me onto the mattress, I bounce twice, my laughter tinklin
g in the otherwise quiet room. I feel the wide smile stretch across my face as I stare up at this man who I suspect—and hope—is about to do dirty and depraved things to me. His answering smile is stunning, stealing my breath for a moment too long. My lungs constrict and my stomach plunges for the barest instant, and for just a moment, I wonder if I’ve made the right choice being here.

  And then Will’s calloused hands reach out and part my thighs, and he crawls up between them, resting his substantial weight on top of me…and all doubts flee my mind.

  I am exactly where I want to be.

  THREE

  We waste no time divesting ourselves of our clothing. The rush to get naked is almost feral; the need to be wrapped up in each other animalistic. Our mouths clash and our teeth knock together and we tear at the fabric. It’s a race that both of us are eager to finish, yet I have a feeling we’ll be feasting on each other long into the night.

  Once he has me bared to him fully, Will’s thick, calloused fingers cleave my slick folds and find my hungry entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he growls, and the ferocious gleam in his tropical gaze sends another flood of arousal pounding through my veins.

  I’m full to bursting with anticipation, and my hips rock of their own volition in an attempt to get him right where I need him. A knowing smirk twists the corner of his lush mouth, and one finger traces my entrance before pushing inside.

  My head presses back into the mattress, a gasp of pleasure and satisfaction spilling from my lips. Studying my face, he measures my reactions as he twists and curls his finger inside me, pulling all kinds of erotic sounds from me.

  The delicious sensations he elicits from me should embarrass me, but already an orgasm is bearing down on me, and I focus wholeheartedly on that instead.

  I’ve come here tonight for an express purpose, and I’m not leaving until I wring every drop of pleasure from it. The benefits are more than worth the months of planning and deception it took to get here. I plan to make the most of this night, even if it kills me.