List of Sins: A Steamy Romance: Seduced by Lust

by Holt, S. w.

  She looks to the rest of the group then back to me, “I was trying to remember which year you had that white elephant party where I won that ghastly stuffed armadillo? I said it was 2011, but Stan here insists it was 2012. But, I know that thing has been collecting dust in the den since 2011.” She snickers.

  All of us laughing I respond quickly, “Well Stan, you are correct. That armadillo was definitely a part of the festivities in 2012. I know that definitively because that's the year I won the silver flask that you begged me to trade you for that ugly piece of taxidermy.”

  “Hmm.” He scratches his chin, “You are probably right. I did want that flask, you know that offer is still open, any time you wish to trade me for that road kill, just say the word.” He lets out a loud guffaw.

  Melissa slaps his arm, “You have no business drinking anyway. Besides, I've become accustomed to that thing's beady eyes looking at me from on top of the bookshelf. It's like it's keeping a watch out.” She cackles.

  I cringe. “Sorry, but I wouldn’t want that in my house.”

  Melissa laughs and shakes her head, “Truth is I don't really either.” Looking around she asks, “Where's that hunk of hubby gone off to? Is he showing off that Porsche again?”

  Laughing, “How did you know? He took Amelia out to show her his new toy.”

  “I don’t know how you exercise such restraint, if Stan did that, I'd throttle him.” Her face is serious now, “No, really, I would be furious.”

  I laugh, “Well you know Marcus does what he wants when he wants, sometimes I think Charlie and I are just along for the ride.”

  “Wouldn’t work for me...just saying. You do realize that now Stan will want one too. He already has his toys, but you know how boys are...they always want others boy toys too.”

  “No kidding.” I say then lightly squeeze her arm.

  I excuse myself from the group that has now migrated to standing around the dessert table. I decide now would be a good time to collect the scavenger hunt sheets from Marcus's study.

  As I head down the corridor, I notice just how much these heels are really beginning to pinch my toes. With each step, I feel like little shards of glass are digging into my toes and to make matters worse, I think a blister is forming on my heel. Apparently it's time to trade these in for something more comfortable. I should know better than to wear a new pair of shoes when I'm to be the hostess extraordinaire for hours on end.

  Just outside the study, I decide I can't wear the shoes anymore so I continue down the hall to the elevator. It may be cheating, but my feet are killing. If I take the stairs, I'm sure to be detained by a party guest. I lean down, taking off my shoes I hear a noise coming from the garage so I go over and open the door. Peeking my head out, all is silent. I assume that what I was hearing were my poor feet howling in pain.

  I throw open the elevator door and as I do so, I let out an involuntary yelp! At first I'm freaked because even though I haven’t flipped the light on yet, I can clearly see the outline of two people in my elevator. As my eyes adjust and the occupants have disengaged, I realize these aren’t just any drunk party goers, its Amelia and....and my husband!

  My shoes drop from my hand and falls to the floor making a loud clank. I haven't any words just yet, the shock of seeing my husband and Amelia stealing a sensual moment is more than I can process.

  Marcus rushes forward, “Delaney, it's not what it looks like!”

  I stumble back a few steps. “What do you mean it's not what it looks like? Of course it is! You and Amelia are screwing in my elevator.”

  “I'm sorry Delaney, I don’t know what came over me, er...us.” He looks back at Amelia, who is busy putting on her dress.

  I look past him and say directly to Amelia, “You get the hell out of my home!” I hiss.

  I'm calling upon my inner strength to not cause a scene with just over a hundred of our friends and colleagues within earshot, this is not for others to hear.

  Marcus starts toward me again with a furrow of his brow, “Laney. Please forgive me, I know I've screwed up. I swear, it just happened.”

  As Amelia brushes past us, she mutters under her breath, “Yeah, just happened a few dozen times.”

  With a quick reflex, I reach out and grab her by the arm yanking her back, “What the hell did you just say?” I say through clenched teeth.

  Looking down at me with a smug face filled with defiance, “Ask your husband. This is between you now.”

  Then she looks at Marcus and says quietly, “You had better make the right decision.”

  Despite all of the noise from the party, all that I can hear is her heels clicking their way down the corridor toward the foyer. The cold tile under my feet feels good as the rest of my body is simmering hot from the anger I am stifling. I debate on what to do next. I want to unleash on Marcus so bad but because of our guests, I can only bite my tongue.

  Stepping into the dark elevator, I turn back to Marcus. “I'm going up to lie down. Tell people I have a migraine.”

  He grabs my hand, “I'm sorry. Honestly, I never meant...”

  Snatching my hand back, I growl, “Save it Marcus. You meant it.”

  Shutting the door in his face I head up to the guest suite instead of our room. I want to get away from the party noise and especially hide away from him.

  I lie down on the big four-poster bed shutting my eyes against the moonlight. My migraine isn’t a lie, after all, my head is simply pounding. I fight the pain but to no avail so I quickly head back to my room to get some pain killers. After I take the little pill, I wander over to the window and watch people milling around enjoying the party that I had worked so hard to put together.

  The pain isn’t going away, it's only getting stronger and I know it's not from the headache. I know it's from finding my husband having sex with my best friend at my damned Christmas party!

  I feel my knees buckling out from underneath me causing me to drop to the floor, at the same time, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. I curl myself into the fetal position hugging my legs to my chest, the heaves wracking my entire body.

  How did we get here? Why is my husband looking at another woman for intimacy? I give him all the attention that he demands. Why isn’t that enough? I wonder how long this has been going on. Was it just tonight it or has there been more? The bile at the back of my throat suggests that deep down, I know the answer to that. She so much as said that this has been going on for a while.

  The horrific reality hits me like a cement truck; Marcus is her new man.

  Rushing to the bathroom, I barely get to the toilet in time for my stomach's contents to come up. I have no idea how long I remain wrapped around the porcelain when the nausea finally subsides.

  The tears continue to flow as I manage to peel myself up off the floor and move to my bed. Lying down with my face buried in my pillow, I can't help but to replay the scene over and over again;

  I open the door to the elevator. It's dark in there because I hadn’t turned the light on yet, but I can see two forms against the wall of the elevator. At first it freaks me out because why would I ever suspect someone would be utilizing my elevator as a place to screw. On the other hand, it was brilliant. It would normally have been the last place someone would look, especially during a party. I flip onto my back with my arm over my eyes trying to keep the room from closing in on me; I breathe deeply.

  I can't get the scene out of my head. Amelia naked but for her bra and Marcus's pants around his ankles. I hadn't even noticed when he pulled them up or wiped the lipstick off his face.

  When I finally drift off to sleep, the dreams I have are disturbing. I wake up with a start and I end up listening to the party winding down. The distant barks of laughter fading as the time wears on, I wonder if these people are ever going to leave!

  After what seems like an eternity, the noise outside and downstairs has finally come to an end. The last of the car doors have shut, and all that is likely to be left is the caterer.


  Rolling out of bed, my whole body hurts, especially my head. I wander into the bathroom and prepare myself for bed. As I'm brushing my teeth, I run through my mind what I'm going to say to Marcus. I guess a lot of what I'm inclined to say is going to be based on what he has to say for himself. Though I doubt anything he can offer will make me change my mind.

  I hear the bedroom door open as I finish smearing night cream on my tear stained face. My eyes puffy and my chest tight and sore from crying so hard. I stiffen as he enters the bathroom.

  Marcus looks at me with a sympathetic eye. I look away rubbing the extra cream on my elbows.

  “Laney. We should talk.” He says quietly.

  “You think.” I spat. “I want to just go to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

  “I know you are angry and you have every right to be but we shouldn’t wait until the morning.” I start to protest, but he holds his hand up, “Do you really think you will get any sleep if we wait 'til the morning?”

  “As much as I know you might be right, I do want to wait until the morning. My head hurts so bad that I can't think clearly.”

  “Fine. I'll go down and see the last of the catering crew off.”

  He turns to head out, “Marcus! Sleep in the guest room tonight. I need to be alone.”

  “I already planned on it.” He says as he's almost out the door.

  That not only surprises me, but it sends up a whole new set of concerns. Why did he plan to sleep on his own, am I that predictable or is this situation just too cliché?

  Chapter Eight

  The prediction of no sleep was entirely correct. I ran the scene from his birthday night along with last night's scene over and over in my mind. Then Ryan's warnings run through my head like a never-ending recording looping then repeating. It pains me that in the end, he was right. And Marcus is completely in the wrong no matter what his explanation. I always told myself that if I were ever cheated on that I would not stay in the relationship, married or otherwise. So, is this the mark of the end of my marriage? Did I set this in motion by selecting the wrong birthday present? Or is that merely a catalyst as Amelia confessed without my realizing to whom she was referring. Wow, I feel like a complete blind idiot. How could I have been so obtuse?

  Lying in my bed alone with my questions and all of my pondering is making me feel anxious. I suppose it would be better to get up and face Marcus, and figure out my fate. When I sit up, my head feels like it’s still on the pillow. Dragging myself into the bathroom then going through the motions of preparing myself for the day. I make haste because I still have to get Charlie from my folks. But first, the conversation with Marcus has to take place.

  Looking in the mirror, I'm horrified by the person staring back at me. My eyes puffy coupled with dark circles, I look rough. I feel even worse.

  After applying a generous amount of eye cream to reduce the swelling and concealer. I finish by using far too much mascara and eyeliner attempting to create a sultry look to mask the tears. To my horror, I look like a Goth sister. Giving up, I throw my hair into a high ponytail and slip on a fitted black tracksuit.

  Much to my surprise, the house is perfectly clean. It's as if a cleaning crew came through overnight. Aside from a few catering items in the foyer that the caterer presumably will come back to pick up, everything is back to normal. I wish the rest of my life were that easy to clean up!

  The smell of coffee is wafting in the air. I follow my nose to the source in the kitchen where a freshly showered Marcus is standing at the stove just about to cook eggs. He looks up at me doing a double take. His brow instantly furrowing, “What's with the makeup?”

  “Never mind my makeup. I had difficulty this morning. We need to get on with it, I have to get Charlie soon.”

  Shaking his head, “I contacted your folks and asked them to bring him by in a few hours.”

  I shake my head in response then utter, “Of course you did.”

  “I thought it was best under the circumstances that he not come home until later after we've had a chance to discuss things.”

  “Oh, I agree.” After making myself a cup of coffee, I sit down on the sofa watching Marcus casually making breakfast as if nothing were wrong, and that it was a morning like any other.

  Feeling impatient and absurdly out of sorts, I holler across the room, “Is that going to take much longer, I want to get this over with.”

  “Hang tight, I'm just making us something to eat.”

  “Oh, I'm not hungry. If anything I feel sick to my stomach.” I snip.

  He shoots me a look but doesn’t say anything. I'm certain he got my meaning.

  With his plate in hand, he sits down at the breakfast table and begins devouring his eggs and toast. I look away because the tears have come back. I try to veil my face from him. I don't want to show just how vulnerable I truly am. Though I imagine it's not hard to figure out. He has been cheating me so the situation dictates for me to be the one who has been wounded.

  He's only upset because he's been caught.

  “Laney! Did you hear me?”

  “Huh? No, I didn’t. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you needed anything before I sit down with you?”

  Shaking my head and quickly wiping away the renegade tears trickling down my face. “No, I'm fine.”

  He sits on the other side of the sectional thus facing me, which is going to make it hard to hide my tears.

  “I just want to tell you again, I didn’t mean to do something like this. I know it's wrong and that I have jeopardized our family. I just haven’t been myself lately. Turning thirty-five has seriously got me on the edge and I can't really explain why. I turned to the wrong place for comfort, I should have come to you or ignored my urges.”

  “How long has this been going on Marcus? When did you start having an affair with Amelia?” He looks like he has slipped into Marcus the attorney so I quickly blurt, “The truth counselor.”

  He looks at me with a raise of his brow then shakes his head, “You deserve that, I know. We started sleeping together right after my birthday.”

  I exhale sharply as if I had been holding my breath waiting just for that singular answer.

  “Why?” I pause, “Why did you feel the need start an affair? Do you love her? Do you still love me? What's your excuse and for the love, don't keep claiming mid-life crisis!” I demand.

  He looks away then putting his face in his hands his answer is muffled, “Yes.”

  I sit up straight in my seat, “Yes what? Yes, you love me or yes you love her?” My pulse is racing.

  Shaking his head, “I don’t know, I mean yes. Or, no. I don't have a way to answer that Laney. I do still love you, but I think I might love Amelia too. I tried to tell you that I had feelings that I couldn't control. You didn’t want to listen, remember?”

  The pit in my stomach is turning into a canyon. The tears start flowing and the lump in my throat renders me unable to speak with much more than a whisper, “What are you saying Marcus?”

  He doesn’t answer me right away but when he does, he clears his throat then looks me straight in the eye, sending my heart plummeting when I hear his words leave his lips. “I love you Laney but I'm not sure that's enough anymore. Something weird happened the night of my birthday, it's like a part of me was unleashed.” He takes a sip of his water, “I never wanted to go behind your back. That was why I approached you with the idea of doing that again. When you told me no, I respected your wishes and dropped it.”

  “Then what changed?” I breathe.

  He looks away, “I ran into Amelia at the Fairmont the same afternoon that I was meeting some clients. Seeing her instantly brought back those desires in me. At that moment, I decided I was not going to smolder my wishes and those urges.”

  I let out an obnoxious hiccup as I fight the sobs that threaten to escape my chest.

  “Listen, it's killing me to tell you this. Are you certain you want to know? Isn’t it enough that I've hurt you this way...
do you really need all the gory details?” He pleads.

  Swallowing hard to suppress the pain, “Oh no, I want to know what was so incredible that you were willing to destroy us.”

  “Laney! God when you put it that way, you would think I committed a crime.”

  “Well didn't you? I'm pretty sure most people view adultery as a cardinal sin at the very least.”

  “Okay, then what do you call setting up a foursome and actively participating in it?”

  “A huge mistake.”

  He lets out a loud sigh, “Fair enough.”

  I regain my composure then I encourage him, “Continue Marcus...let's see...you left off where you ran into Amelia and couldn’t control yourself. So did you get a room and fuck her brains out? Is that why you didn’t make it home that night? Oh, and is that why she canceled going to Cabo with us? Let me guess, she stayed here and you two only came up for a breather when I came home?”