by Starla Kaye
He pulled onto the highway leading downtown and concentrated on slowing his breathing, on forcing away the vision of his shapely wife wearing nothing more than what she'd been born in. Yet another change in Valerie. First, she'd started playing out the little fantasies of his--now those had been very pleasant surprises! Then this naked business. And now she'd hung up on him.
His phone rang and he answered quickly, wondering if Valerie was calling him back. Oddly hoping she was.
But it wasn't Valerie. Abigail said briskly, "I've made those reservations you requested for tonight at Raymond's. Mr. Shelby and Mr. Wilson have both confirmed that they and their wives will be there too."
Jett nodded and realized she couldn't see his silent response. "Good. Thank you. Tell Aaron that I'll be there in about a half hour for that meeting."
As he ended the call, he thought back to his earlier conversations with Aaron and then Tom. He'd decided sometime during the middle of the night that it was time he went to dinner with Valerie. Only he'd been hesitant to do so alone. Chicken as that was. So he'd asked them to bring their wives and join them for dinner. His partners had not been overly excited, but they'd finally agreed. She didn't particularly like them, never had. He couldn't really blame her. He knew--and she knew--that they'd thought her something of a blond airhead when she had worked for them as a secretary for two years before he married her. He also knew they thought it odd that she hadn't joined their wives in serving on boards of one local social organization or another after she'd stopped working. She was nothing like their wives. Valerie was much more independent, much more spirited and adventurous. He'd spent his whole life around women more contained and socially active in the "right" organizations. Her rebellious ways against following what they all thought as the norm had led to many arguments. But no matter how much they'd disagreed, he'd loved her like crazy, more than he'd thought possible.
And then she'd left him. He hadn't thought he could ever forgive her for that, and maybe he couldn't. His mind tumbled over what had happened in his office three nights ago. He'd spanked her, as he had so many times in their short marriage.
His father had been a spanker, too, of his own wife, although they'd never talked about it. Jett had caught his mother rubbing her bottom and sniffling in the study one day when he'd come home early from high school. He'd seen his father driving away. It hadn't bothered him really; his mother could be a real bitch at times. He also knew they'd been deeply in love until the day they were killed in an airplane accident. Their domestic discipline lifestyle had not been a problem in their relationship. Jett, too, felt it was his duty as a good husband to love and tend to his wife however necessary, which included spanking her for certain behavioral problems. He and Valerie had actually talked about it once during their dating days. She'd not been disgusted, or as it turned out too resistant to the idea. He'd even spanked her two days before their wedding.
He turned into the parking lot of his office building. She hadn't really minded his spanking her. Sure, sometimes she'd been pretty unhappy while dealing with a well-spanked bottom, but they'd always gotten past it. Their sex life... absolutely no problem there. They'd argued--never hatefully--many times, and she'd usually stood her ground, even if sometimes she'd gotten spanked for doing it. So he just hadn't understood why she'd packed up and left him after what, to him, had just been another argument. His wounded pride had kept him from making a serious effort to bring her back. She'd left; she could return. And then he'd gotten the divorce papers.
Now she was back. Now she was playing out some of his fantasies. Okay, his fantasies had not come close to what she'd been doing. He was intrigued--aroused as hell most of the time too. He'd give it more time. See if maybe...
Valerie smoothed down the sides of the new dress she'd splurged on this afternoon. Would Jett like it? The halter neckline was lower than what she'd worn ever before with him, not low enough to be sinfully out of place in a restaurant. The tops of her breasts were pretty exposed, though. And there wasn't much of a back to speak of. Maybe she should change into...
Too late. Jett's car had just pulled up into the driveway. She'd just have to tough it out. She grabbed her coat and put it on before he could see what she was wearing. This was one of her little teasers for the night. The dress was another, but the main one she'd wait until the appropriate time to tell him. By the time he got out of the car she was out of the house and halfway to the driveway, nerves fluttering through her. She watched his gaze take in the trench coat--maybe not dressy enough for tonight, but chosen purposely--and saw his eyes widen. Good. He remembered. Of course she hadn't thought he'd forget the coat...or what she'd worn underneath it.
"You'd better not have on--" His chest rose in deep breaths as she approached.
"Of course not." She gave him a sassy smile and walked around to the passenger side.
"I'm just saying--"
She slid into the car, letting the coat slide open across her lap enough that he caught a glimpse of a red, shiny fabric. He seemed to sigh, whether in relief or disappointment, she wasn't certain. But he was still curious, which was good. Very good.
An hour later Jett sat at a corner table with his partners, their wives and Valerie in the most expensive, most exclusive restaurant in town. Posh didn't even come close to describing it. He barely noticed the decor, the staff, or the patrons tonight. His entire focus had been on Valerie ever since she'd removed her coat at the door. She had the almost constant attention, too, of far too many men throughout the restaurant. She had spectacular breasts, but they were supposed to be only for his viewing. And, damn, her bare back had been spectacular as well. He'd wanted to stroke her soft flesh--anywhere and everywhere--for every torturous minute since.
He tried to force his thoughts somewhere else, somewhere safer. Aaron, Tom and their wives were talking about some ball coming up, but that didn't interest him. With a quick glance at Valerie, he saw that the topic didn't appear to interest her either. He should say something to her. He wasn't completely incapable of conversation. At least he hadn't been until tonight, until she'd taken his breath away and seemed to have kept it.
Disgusted with himself, he watched her look curiously around the restaurant and play with the stem of her wine glass at the same time. She'd been stroking it for several minutes. He'd tried not to watch that simple, sensual movement. Each stroke had his mind playing with ideas that he had no right to be even thinking about here in such a public place. Would this night never end? Even if it was wrong because he still wasn't sure about their marriage, he desperately needed some alone time with Valerie.
Finally Aaron's wife took another stab at starting a conversation with Valerie, interrupting his wandering thoughts. "Have you been doing anymore painting? I seem to recall that you dabbled in oils."
It had been a conversation starter, but Jett could tell none of the others particularly cared about her answer. That annoyed him, and then he remembered that he'd never shown any real interest either when she'd talked about her art in the past. He'd thought it a passing hobby and nothing more. Had it been? Or had he just been too self-absorbed in his own life and work to really learn about what mattered to his wife? When she hadn't fit the mold he'd attempted to put her in, it had annoyed him. But hadn't her free-spirit and easy smiles been what had first attracted him to her? Rather than the more somber and always politically correct ways of his partners' wives? For the first time, he wondered if she'd left him because she'd believed he had lost interest in her...outside of the bedroom anyway. Sex had been beyond excellent right until he'd gone on that final business trip.
"Now and then," was all Valerie said, which appeared to be enough for his so-called friends. They went back to talking about the plans for the ball. She went back to looking around, as if longing to escape.
He realized he felt the same way.
"Something wrong with your steak?" Aaron asked, snagging Jett's attention again.
Jett looked down at his plate and saw that
he'd only taken a few bites. He shook his head. "No, I'm just not as hungry as I'd thought." Okay, he was starved, but not for steak.
Aaron gave him a look that only another man understood as "totally see the problem." His partner had been eyeing Valerie a little too closely off and on since they'd joined the group at the table. He'd looked at her with enough masculine interest that his wife had scowled at him more than once. Tom and his wife were reacting much the same. He'd be hearing about this for days...and probably so would his partners.
When he glanced across the table, he saw her again fingering the wine glass stem and studying him. There was something teasing, tempting, almost sinful in her expressive blue eyes. A hint of a knowing smile. Then, seeing that he was observing her, she drew in a deep breath, one that made her voluptuous breasts rise and fall in a way that had every man at the table watching in fascination. Both of the other women snorted in annoyance. Only then did Valerie seem to realize she was causing trouble at the table. Pink tinged her cheeks.
As his partners leaned closer to their respective wives and attempted to smooth over ruffled feathers, Jett continued looking pointedly at Valerie. He hoped his expression made it clear to her that they'd have a talk when they got home. She'd purposely worn something to tease him into a state of craziness, which if they'd been alone might have been all right. But they weren't. She'd succeeded in teasing his partners, and angering their wives. And now she appeared to understand that her plan had caused a strain in other relationships. He tried to project how unhappy he was at the moment.
"I'm getting a terrible headache, Jett," Valerie said, offering a meager excuse for them to leave. She rubbed her forehead. "Would you mind if we left?"
Both Tom and Aaron gave almost relieved nods of approval. Aaron's slight smile told Jett he thought he and Valerie would be going home to deal with something far more pleasant than a headache. Eventually Jett hoped that would happen. First, he needed to have another discussion with Valerie. She needed to understand that teasing in private was one thing, teasing him in public was inappropriate. He'd probably also go into what was considered proper dress, particularly around his partners and their wives.
"I'm ready when you are."
She stood and calmly said, "I apologize for leaving early, but this headache is becoming almost blinding. I've been staying up too late, I guess. Working on details about...Well, that's not important. Have a good evening."
Jett made a quick good-bye as well and hurried to catch up with his wife already weaving her way toward the coat room. She had an amazing sway to her hips and her legs looked so damn sexy in those spiked heels. But he wasn't the only man in the restaurant noticing both facts. Next time they went out, she'd be wearing a floor-length sack, with a high neckline.
She stood outside the coat room quietly waiting for both him and the attendant. There was something playful in her eyes in spite of her knowing she was in trouble with him, something that made him nervous. When he stopped next to her, she sidled even closer and smiled as he found himself unabashedly looking down her cleavage.
Then she did something that shocked him and nearly gave him a heart attack: she bent over--straight over--as if to pick up something she'd dropped just in front of her shoe. In that instant before she straightened again, he learned that she wore nothing beneath that sexy red dress. He'd already known she wore no bra. But now he knew she also had passed on wearing panties. He just about swallowed his tongue.
"Naughty, huh?" she whispered. "Am I in trouble with my husband? In need of his special attention? Again?"
He took the coat from the young man who was ogling Valerie and all but jammed her into it. Then he steered her quickly from the building. His blood pressure was soaring. He wanted her so badly it was a wonder he didn't shove her up against the first car they came to and ram himself into her. Instead he concentrated on the necessity of dealing with a wife that had pushed her husband too far.
As he opened the car door for her, he said in a far huskier tone than he'd have liked, "I'm going to have you as soon as we get in the house. Just like you've been tempting me to do all night." He leaned down, kissed her deeply, and then added, "You'll be sleeping on your stomach tonight, dear heart. I can promise you that."
Traffic thinned out considerably as they left the downtown area and headed toward their home on the outskirts of Oklahoma City. Jett hadn't said a word after they'd left the parking lot. But he'd glanced over at her in the dark several times, each time with a heat in his expression that she had difficulty deciphering. Was he just so angry at her that he couldn't speak? Or was he--please, God--so aroused that he couldn't speak? Even though he might be sexually aroused enough that he could follow through with making love to her as soon as they got home--again, yes, please God--she also knew that he intended to punish her. It would be for one of his reasons that had to do with him as her husband being responsible for guiding her behavior. She didn't always agree with that responsibility, but it was part of who he was. So she accepted it. Spankings only hurt for so long anyway.
Still, this awful quiet was getting to her. She sucked in a breath and said, "I didn't really think this dress would--"
He cut her off with a sharp look. "Would make every man who saw you want you so damn bad he could hardly see straight? Me especially."
She didn't really care about any man's response but his. She smiled into the darkness.
Out of the corner of her eye she watched him run a hand through his thick, dark hair. Then he focused straight ahead and said huskily, "I've got to touch you."
"Touch me?" she asked, looking anxiously around but they were already outside of the city and what few cars there were, were a distance away.
"Raise your dress, and spread your legs a little," he ordered, still staring ahead.
Heart racing, she pulled both her coat and the dress up until she held the fabric against her quivering stomach. She eased her legs apart, waiting. He was going to touch her, finger her...right here in the car...as they were driving. This was crazy. Such a turn-on.
His right arm reached over the small console between their seats. And then his long fingers found her, immediately playing with her clit. It grew hard. She grew wet, anxious, aching. She couldn't sit still as he toyed with her and drove her nearly mindless.
Finally she arched off the seat, desperate as his fingers both rubbed her blossomed bud and drove into her. At last they approached their street. At last he brought her to completion. She cried out in pure pleasure as she came all over his still wiggling fingers. "Ohhhhhh, Jett! Ohhhhhhhhh."
She had collapsed in a temporary state of satisfaction while he removed those wonderful fingers and drove into the garage. Her breathing was still somewhat rough when he walked around and helped her out of the car.
"Oh, Jett," was all she could manage, having trouble even standing.
Male pride in what he'd done shone in his eyes. As did his intense need for her.
Behind them the garage door closed, leaving them standing there in the dim light of the garage overhead light.
"Here. Now," she stated boldly, in challenge. She waited, wondering if he'd dare. Jett was a fairly conservative man...except for his fantasies. She couldn't remember him taking her in the garage being one of them, but maybe it needed to be one...needed to be played out.
It took him only a second to take up the challenge. He shut the car door, took her hand and led her to the front of his Lexus. Then he unbuttoned her trench coat and placed it on the side of the hood. She was quivering inside, all over again, watching him. Waiting. Wanting.
He picked her up by the waist and set her on the coat. It was warm beneath her, but not nearly was warm as the heat they would soon produce.
She watched him unbuckle his belt--which made her shiver in anticipation of what would come later, although probably not the belt. He stared right at her as he unzipped his slacks and freed his already long, hard cock. He slid his hand up and down its length and she lay back against the hood.
"I need you," she begged, scooting until her hips were closer to the edge.
He shoved her legs apart, held her firmly by the waist, and thrust deep inside her. She felt blessedly full, happy. Where they made love didn't matter, or when. But, even as he drove rapidly in and out of her, she knew she wanted so much more than just sex from him. She needed Jett's heart. She hoped she was getting closer to earning his trust, his complete love again. But until she had it... well... this was damn good!
Walking behind her husband into the house, Valerie still floated on the warm sensations of having been thoroughly satisfied. And she dreamed of experiencing that wonderful feeling again, soon. Maybe not again tonight. She could see by the stiffness to his shoulders that Jett was now focused on something else. Something far less pleasant, but something that he needed to do.
"Wait," she said, gently touching his arm and making him look at her. She called on her pride and stepped around him. "Where do you want to do this?" He'd always seemed to prefer her to lead the way to wherever he planned to do the punishing. She wanted things back to the way they had been between them, even in this.
"The bedroom you're using for now."
She walked ahead of him. Using for now. Was he implying that maybe soon he wanted her sharing his room, sharing his bed again? Oh please, yes. Please.
He stopped somewhere behind her as she moved to the middle of the room all decorated in antiques and French Provincial furniture. "I'm unsure..." He looked confused. He needed to perform what he saw as his duty, and yet he wasn't sure what to do. Both knew her "crimes" hadn't been big this time, more along the lines of her embarrassing him with a dress that had ended up being too revealing, too provocative.
This would be taking a chance at suffering needlessly, but Valerie noted how he'd yet to rebuckle his belt. She nodded at him and his gaze followed her eye movement. He seemed startled, uncertain, so she prodded him further. "What I did was wrong, not hurtfully so. But I chose this specific dress with the intention of seducing you."
