by Maggie Ryan
“Don’t worry. I’ll spot you.”
It was embarrassing as I didn’t even make it halfway across, but she refused to accept my apologies.
“Hannah, I’ve been training for a month longer than you have.”
“I’m just afraid I won’t be anywhere near ready to sign up for the Mudder,” I said, flexing my fingers to get ready to try again.
“Well, if you had Gary for a coach, you’d make sure to scamper across like the monkey these are named for.”
Cocking my head, I gave her a long look. “That’s twice now you’ve mentioned him giving you some sort of motivation.” I wanted to know what he used to inspire her into working so hard, but just couldn’t bring myself to ask. Instead, I gripped the bars again. “He’s taught you. You can teach me. What’s my incentive, Coach?”
She laughed as she moved to stand beside me to break my fall if I let go—which I would, of course. “Let’s just say I’m not sure you’d appreciate Gary’s methods. But, if you make it further than the first time, I’ll pop for a Starbucks on the way home.”
“Sounds good.” I didn’t earn the prize until the third time and still didn’t make it to the end, but from the way we both shouted and did a happy dance, you’d have thought I’d won a marathon.
We did some pushups, ran along some beams that were low to the ground, and then jogged around the track. Cooling off on the swings, we laughed as we tried to outdo each other to see who could go highest. Climbing off, I staggered a bit, but I loved every quiver of my muscles. Driving through the Starbucks, the barista informed us that today was National Friend’s Day, and the drinks were buy one and get one free.
Stephanie laughed. “I swear I didn’t know when I made that offer. Hey, if you come out with us tonight, I’ll make it up to you and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Out where?” I asked as I pulled up to the window.
“Lieutenant Dawson, Kelly’s brother, has a band and they’ve got their first gig. A bunch of us are going to a club out on Brewster Street. It’s a bit far, but Kelly asked if we’d go help support them. Besides, he said that Fridays are ladies’ night and they’ve got this free buffet.” She paused while I passed her phone to the guy at the window so he could scan her app to pay for the coffees.
It was Friday. I’d totally forgotten what day it was. Brett had mentioned dinner, but had not said anything about what would happen after we’d eaten. Perhaps he’d decided one week was enough of his camp? Somehow, I rather doubted that.
I shook my head. “Sorry, it sounds like fun, but I can’t go,” I said as I handed her phone back.
She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re going to think I’m some sort of cheapskate. I mean your coffee didn’t cost me anything and the drinks at the bar are like half-price.”
“No, it’s not that,” I assured her, giving her coffee to her and accepting my own. “I’m all for cheap drinks. Any other night and I’d jump at the chance. But, well, Fridays are when Brett and I…” True, I felt that we were becoming close friends, but I was not ready to share such an intimate detail with her… with anyone really. “It’s sort of our date night.”
“Oh, that’s too bad, but I understand. Gary and I are the same way.”
“You are?” I asked, wondering if some instinct in me had drawn me to another wife who practiced this dynamic.
“Yeah, but on Sundays. We always go out to brunch somewhere after church.”
Church and brunch… not dinner and spanking. Thank God I’d not said more about my own ‘date night’. I just smiled and nodded, glad when Stephanie steered the conversation back to training after I reached up to rub my shoulder, which ached a bit.
“What you need is a good massage,” she said.
Her words made me think of the massages that Brett always gave me after our runs. I’d had a better week than I’d had in as long as I could remember. And why was that? As much as I hated to admit it, it was because we’d made those vows, Brett had enforced them, and we had started over. Smiling for real this time, I turned to her. “I’ll make you a deal. If I can actually be ready to do this Mudder, and live through it, I’ll treat you to a spa day when it’s over.”
“You’re on!” She raised her cup. “The only thing I love more than coffee is getting pampered. You can bet your ass you’ll make it!”
After dropping her off at her house, I went home and finished the project for the welcoming baskets for the newcomers to the base. They were now lined up in a neat row along the back wall and would be picked up by another committee member tomorrow. I spent some time watering and checking our garden, glad to see green shoots beginning to appear in the pots we’d started as seeds.
Realizing I actually had some free time, I tried to read but couldn’t concentrate. Instead, I made a few more flowers, enjoying the process instead of being freaked out that I’d never finish. As I worked, I thought about the week. I’d not broken any of our rules, and Brett and I hadn’t had a single harsh word… well, if you didn’t count those few grumblings I’d made when forced to get up so early. But I’d even stopped doing that.
When it was about time for Brett to get home, I went into the bedroom to change. Pulling a dress from my closet, I reconsidered. Even though I had done nothing wrong, had nothing to confess, and there was no reason for me to worry about getting a spanking, I’d worn a dress last Friday and look what had happened. He couldn’t expect me to remove my pants and panties in the middle of a restaurant. Putting the dress back, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. If he questioned me, I’d simply state that it wasn’t our anniversary and going to a pizza parlor didn’t require a dress and heels.
I was halfway out of the bedroom when I paused. What was I doing? If I hadn’t wanted this deep down, I would never have agreed. Sure, it had been embarrassing to have to face my faults and lay over his lap with my bottom bared. It had hurt to have my ass smacked, but I’d not only survived, the pain hadn’t lasted long. And if I were honest, I’d felt… well, cherished. And yet I already had an excuse on the tip of my tongue to explain my clothing choice. I was surprised to discover I felt ashamed of myself. Turning around, I pulled off my clothes and was reaching for the dress when I heard my phone ringing. It was Brett’s ringtone.
Grabbing it off the bed where I’d tossed it, I answered. “Hi, I was just getting dressed.”
“Sorry, babe, but I’m going to be…”
I could barely hear him for the sound of voices in the background. “Brett? I can’t hear you, when are you going to be here?”
“Late… if I get home at all.”
Sinking down onto the bed, I asked, “Oh, God. Are you deploying?”
“What? No, hang on.”
I heard him say something about quieting down and was aware of other people talking, but I was not really paying attention. My heart had started pounding when he said he might not get home at all. I tried to present a brave front when he was off on some mission, but inside I was always terrified.
“I just have something important to deal with. I’ve ordered a pizza for you. It should be there soon.”
Before I could ask what had happened, I heard someone else talking before Brett said, “Look, I’ve got to run.”
And he was gone.
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. It hung down to my knees but it made me feel closer to him. The doorbell rang and I accepted the pizza. When I tried to tip the delivery guy, he shook his head.
“It’s covered. Major Griffith paid for everything when I delivered the other pies. Have a good night, ma’am.”
Other pies? What did that mean? Carrying the pizza into the kitchen, parts of the phone conversation bounced around in my head. Suddenly, I froze. I’d heard someone saying something about having found the cards and another voice calling out, “Griff, you coming? The guys are ready to kick some ass.”
Brett wasn’t coming home because he had something ‘important’ to do. Since when was playing poker something impor
tant? More important than our plans… more important than his supposed dedication to our commitment. A commitment that had me running my ass off, making a fool out of myself trying to make him proud, had me eating crow with women I’d been in charge of, and pulling out of projects I should be heading. Well, fuck that. I had more important things to do too!
I dialed Stephanie’s number, but she didn’t answer. Knowing how loud clubs could be, I’d wait a few minutes then try again. Leaving the pizza box on the counter, I was pulling off my clothes as I walked back to our room. Throwing his shirt on the floor, I rummaged through my closet and pulled on a dress, but not the one I’d originally chosen. Shrugging off my bra, I pulled on a red sheath with thin spaghetti straps. Pairing it with black heels, I applied more makeup, brushed my hair and then stood and looked at my reflection. The dress hugged my body and I smiled. I’d only been exercising for a week, but I would swear I’d lost weight. Would Brett be disappointed if I lost my curves?
No, he has more important things to do than hang onto those curves, remember? Picking up my phone, I dialed again. She still didn’t answer, but this time I left a voice message. “Hey, Stephanie, this is Hannah. Evidently I’m not important enough for Brett to keep our date. He’s ditched me for some fucking poker game. I’m not going to sit around like some damn dog begging for his attention. I’m dressed to kill and ready to party. Get ready to buy me that drink, or a dozen, Coach. I’ll see you soon.” I grabbed a smaller purse and transferred my wallet, brush, and lipstick to it before going out the door. Climbing into my car, I remembered she’d never mentioned the name of the club. Shrugging, I pulled out of the drive. How many clubs could there be on one street? Leaving the base, I turned the radio up loud and sang along, determined not to think about Brett as he sure as shit wasn’t thinking about me.
* * *
An hour later, I was beginning to rethink my plan. I’d thought I’d remembered where Brewster Street was, but it took me several times backtracking to finally connect with the street. Driving slowly, I shook my head as I pulled into another lot. Why would there be so many bars in one place? You’d think having so many choices would cut down on customers.
At the last light, I’d dug through my purse for my phone only to discover I didn’t have it. Evidently, I’d forgotten to transfer it to my new bag. I’d already gone into one club only to find it wasn’t a club… well, it was, but it was a strip joint. I’d stared at a gorgeous woman shimmying around a pole and then bending over, planting her palms flat on the stage and shaking her ass. It had been mesmerizing and honestly, I was a bit jealous at how toned she was. The only curves she had were her enormous breasts that didn’t seem to shake at all despite her energetic twerking.
“I can take your name for a lap dance.”
“What?” I asked, spinning around to find a topless woman grinning at me.
“She’s really good, and it’s only a hundred bucks,” the waitress said.
A hundred dollars! “Um… no, thanks. I-I was actually looking for some friends. We’re supposed to listen to a band?”
“Honey, the only thing to listen to here are the shouts of horny men, well, and some ladies. And you can’t just watch. There’s a two-drink minimum.”
“Oh… I’m not staying.”
“You sure? Angie is really good. Guaranteed to make you cream your panties or your money back.”
I could only blush as red as my dress and shake my head. “I’m sure, thanks anyway.” I could hear her laughing as I ran for the door.
The second club was more of a bar with still no signs of Stephanie or any band. I didn’t bother to go into the next club as there were only a couple of cars in the lot, which was very poorly lit. My stomach rumbled and I thought about the pizza that I’d not even bothered to open. Sighing, I was about to give up my quest to go home and heat up a slice when I saw Rocky’s. Red lights scrolled across a sign that said ‘Live Music and Ladies’ Night’. The parking lot was overflowing. This had to be the place. Forget pizza, Stephanie had said they offered free food too. Not seeing a single open space, I watched a truck pull off and park in the grass between the club and a dark building. Following them, I winced as my tires bounced over a curb, scraping the bottom of my car. I hadn’t realized there was a cement lip around the lot. It was too late now. I braced for the bump as my rear tires had to climb over the barrier. Seeing the couple from the truck already walking back toward the club, I shoved open my door and hurried to follow.
Chapter Ten
Brett
The past week had seen a remarkable change—not only in Hannah, but in our lives. We’d spent more time talking and just being together in a week than we had in the past month. True, she still wasn’t jumping out of bed with enthusiasm, but she had greatly curtailed the moaning and groaning during our warm-up and our runs. Pulling into the driveway, I couldn’t help but think the most moaning I’d heard had been accompanied by gasps, mewls, and pleas begging for permission to come. We’d made love almost every day and it had been fantastic. My wife was losing a bit of her inhibitions and seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was.
Waiting for the garage door to open, I felt my cock stiffening in my trousers. She’d been so great all week that tonight’s maintenance session was not only going to be light, it was going to be followed by our first anal sex. I’d begun prepping her a week ago, had my fingers buried in her back passage this morning as she’d exploded, and I couldn’t wait to sink my cock into her tight little ass.
It took me a moment to realize that her car was not in the garage. Where could she have gone? It was almost eleven and even if she’d gone to some committee meeting, one I had no idea had been scheduled, she should have been home hours ago.
“Hannah?” I called as I entered the house—the dark house. Flipping on the light by the door, I saw the pizza box on the table, but heard no response to my call. Picking up the box to put it in the refrigerator, I was surprised at how heavy it felt. Opening the lid, I discovered that not a single slice was missing.
Had she gone to bed without eating? But if she had, where was her car? I put the pizza away and walked through the house. I didn’t start to really worry until I entered the bedroom, not speaking so as not to wake her if she was asleep. I went into the bathroom and flipped on the light, which spilled enough illumination into the bedroom that I could see the bed. The bed that was still made.
Another switch flooded the room with light. Clothes were on the floor by the bed and the open closet door. Was she in another bedroom for some reason? It only took a few minutes to ascertain that she wasn’t in the house. Pulling out my phone, I dialed her number only to hear the ringtone from our bedroom. Squatting down, I found her phone buried beneath one of my t-shirts. My heart started to pound. My wife was missing and hadn’t taken her phone.
Ending the call to stop the ringing, I opened the record of her recent calls, seeing my number a few times as well as another that was repeated several times. A small circle showed the face of a pretty young woman, but I had no idea who she was. It was late, but I didn’t care. Tapping the number, I listened to it ring.
“Hello? Hannah?”
“No, this is her husband, Brett,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize your number.”
“Oh, this is Stephanie Carter,” she said, putting a name to the face.
“Stephanie, I hate to bother you, but do you have any idea where Hannah is?”
“No. I thought this was your date night. I mean, that’s what she told me.”
Running my hand over my scalp, I sighed. “It is, but I was running late, and I guess she decided to go out.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I haven’t talked to her since this morning.”
“Thank you anyway,” I said, “I’m sorry to have called so late. But if you do hear from her, could you call me back?”
“Sure, I hope nothing’s wrong.”
“So do I. You don’t happen to know if there was some sort o
f meeting tonight? She’s involved in a lot of projects.”
“I’m not aware of any and we aren’t on all the same ones. I can call around or give you some numbers… oh, wait. I just saw that she did call me earlier, but I missed it. She left me a voice mail.”
She instantly had my full attention. “What did she say?”
I had to wait while she listened to the message. “Oh, I didn’t know she was going to join us, or I would have called to tell her the party was cancelled.”
“What party?”
“Do you know Keith Dawson?”
“Not well, but yes.”
“Well, his sister, Kelly, is a friend of ours. A bunch of us were going out to a club to celebrate Keith’s band getting their first gig. Then, well, something happened that kept Keith from being able to play so they pulled out. There was no reason to go as the club isn’t in the best part of town and we didn’t want to go if the guys weren’t going to be there. The men had to report back to work and the girls went to dinner and a movie instead. Hannah wasn’t planning on coming so didn’t know it was cancelled. Maybe she went to meet us but we weren’t there?”
I heard what she said but was only focused on one thing. A club in a bad part of town. A club that several women didn’t feel comfortable going to without their men. A club my wife went to alone. “What’s the name of the club?”
“Rocky’s, but I don’t remember giving her the name, just the street.”
“And that is?”
“Oh, Brewster. Rocky’s is down near the end. Right before the warehouses start.”
I could feel my blood racing. Forget ‘bad part of town’, the warehouse district was best described as ‘seedy’. “Thank you, Stephanie. I’m going to let you go.”
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known you’d ditched her…”
She paused and I could practically picture her wanting to snatch her words back. “Perhaps you’d better let me listen to the actual message, Stephanie.”
