After dinner when he’d suggested we watch Captain America instead of Love Actually, my desire for anything intimate had long passed, and all I’d wanted was to just go to bed and read because, nowadays, the pages in my books gave me more sexual gratification than the man who slept beside me.
It was sad but true.
When he’d mentioned looking for my ‘cat’, my ‘cat’ had figuratively hissed in warning. I hadn’t wanted robotic, shitty, hush-the-kids-are-asleep sex, even though I’d given in out of guilt in the end. It was disheartening, really, having sex with my husband because I felt guilty. Sex shouldn’t be like that when you love someone. It should be exciting, rewarding … enjoyable. It shouldn’t be an obligation or a score settler. But that was exactly what it had become where I was concerned. And I hated that.
I sighed. The mere thought of feeling that way pained me. I loved Dean wholeheartedly and I always would. He just didn’t push the buttons on my body that I wanted him to press. And I wasn’t sure at what point in our marriage that had changed, or why, nor was I sure whose fault it was. Because, although small, my porthole-sized libido still existed. I wanted sex. I just wanted something different. Something new. Something surprising.
I wanted something a little less predictable.
Unfortunately, Dean was as predictable as a clock. Rhythmic. Formulaic. He liked routine. Did that make him boring? Yeah, kinda. Yet I couldn’t deny that his consistency was comforting, because he was also dependable and reliable — a double-edged sword with a bittersweet slice.
Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, I wondered if ‘comfortable’ was what a marriage should be above all else, if ease and the absence of irregularity really were the keys to sustaining longevity within a partnership.
‘God, I hope not,’ I said quietly to myself. That notion didn’t sit well with me at all, but maybe it was the answer and my expectations of spontaneity were unreasonable. Maybe I was just greedy.
I scoffed and rolled to my side, creeping my head onto Dean’s pillow. It smelled of him: clean, manly … and Euphoria for Men by Calvin Klein. It was his signature scent. I’d bought it for him shortly after Thomas was born and it had been the only aftershave he’d worn since. Thank God I like it.
Breathing in, I let his scent wash over me as I closed my eyes and exhaled. Yes, my Dean was comfortable. He was also an extremely dedicated man, and not just towards his family but also towards the career he’d chosen many years ago, despite often complaining about the people he worked for.
But most of us complained about our boss … with the exception of my best friend, Alexis, and myself. She was engaged to boss-man Bryce and was his personal assistant.
An impish grin teased my face, my eyes still closed, my smile broad. Mr Clark. Mr Bryce Edward Clark. Now there was a man who was far from boring or predictable. An obscenely wealthy, undeniably sexy, exciting and horny-as-fuck alpha male, and my employer. He was also a really great guy.
Bryce was the best boss an employee could have. Honestly, I still pinched myself daily in disbelief that he gave me a job at his hotel complex, City Towers, as one of the event supervisors. Initially, the job had been a favour to Alexis — everything he did, he did for Alexis — but I’d since proven over the past one and a half years that I wasn’t a charity case and that I deserved my position. I was a committed worker. Hardcore. Shit got done when I was around. And not just done … It. Got. Done.
The events supervisor role was job-shared due to the entertainment complex being open 24/7. Allison was my events supervisor counterpart. Young. Career-driven. She worked the hours I couldn’t and, for the most part, we got along well. Ali was twenty-six, unmarried and childless. She was the chalk to my cheese, which wasn’t a bad thing where our job was concerned. Sometimes a differing opinion was needed … as long as mine won out in the end.
The sound of Chris de Burgh singing ‘Lady in Red’ jolted me from my dozing, so I reached to my bedside table and groggily snapped up my phone, answering Alexis’s call. I’d assigned that ringtone to her nearly two years ago when she and Bryce first met.
He’d bought her a red dress.
She’d worn it.
They’d slept together.
The rest was history.
Okay … not quite.
‘What time is it? I’m not late, am I?’ I asked, sitting up in bed and scratching my unruly mop of hair. Why didn’t the kids wake me?
Alexis laughed. ‘No, you’re not late.’
‘Oh, good.’ I let out a sigh of relief and fell back down onto my mattress.
‘So, how’d it go last night? Did you get your sexytimes?’ Did I get my sexytimes? Did Kanye West ever say anything worth listening to?
‘No,’ I groaned, recalling the same old cock-in cock-out horizontal bullshit known as marital sex. ‘Well, I guess I did. Kinda.’
‘You guess you did? That’s not quite the answer I was expecting.’
‘Never mind,’ I dismissed, wanting to move right along. I was still annoyed at Dean, annoyed at myself … annoyed at life in general. ‘So what’s up? Why the early wake-up call?’
‘I’m taking Bryce’s self-defence class this morning. You know the one he teaches hotel guests?’
‘Yeeeeah,’ I drawled, wondering why she was taking the class. It wasn’t something she normally did, especially now that little Brayden was permanently attached to her hip.
‘I want you to come and keep me company.’
I could hear the hesitation in her voice.
‘Okaaay. Why?’
‘Because.’
‘Because isn’t an answer.’
‘Yes it is. It may not be a precise answer, but it’s still an answer.’
I squinted at the phone, suspicious. ‘Hmm … well, I have to get the kids to school first, but I think I can make it in time.’
‘I thought the kids were meant to be staying with Dean’s parents last night.’
‘They were.’
‘Oh.’ There was silence for a few seconds before the penny dropped. ‘OH! What happened?’
‘Long story. I’ll explain when I get there. And you can do the same. I can tell something is up. You can’t hide that shit from me.’
‘Nothing is up. I promise. I just want to do the class. I haven’t done it in a while.’
‘So why do you need me to do it with you? Why not do it on your own, huh?’
‘You need a partner at these things. You can’t self-defend yourself.’ There was more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice, and I had to admit she made a valid point. Still, I could tell she was holding something back.
‘Fair enough. I’ll try to get there by nine.’
‘Okay. See you soon.’ She blew a kiss through the phone then disconnected the call, which was the exact moment I heard what could only be described as two baby cubs chasing a mouse around my living room.
‘MUUUUUUM!’ Thomas yelled. ‘Will gave me a corky.’
‘MUUUUUUM! Tom is a sooky dibba dobba.’
I pulled the blanket over my face and groaned. Is it too early for wine?
* * *
The morning drive into the city was surprisingly pleasant, partly due to the beautiful warm summer weather but also due to Mark Ronson’s and Bruno Mars’ ‘Funk’ being ‘Uptown’. It was my new favourite song and I’d had it on repeat, enjoying ‘hot-damning’ myself all over the car when I pulled to a stop in the parking lot at work.
Dance-stepping my way into the casino, I nearly jumped a mile when our head of security, Dale, sidled up beside me.
‘Got ants in your pants today, Tashy?’
‘Sweet Jesus, Dale, you scared me half to death.’ My hand clutched my chest and I breathed deeply.
He chuckled.
I whacked him on the arm. ‘It’s not funny. I nearly gave birth to a litter of monkeys just then.’
One of his eyebrows arched, his forehead wrinkling. ‘A litter of monkeys?’
‘Yes. Small monkeys, of course. Like spider mon
keys.’ I tried not to ogle his sexy brow wrinkles. Dale had great brow wrinkles.
‘Spider monkeys? You do know they’re not small, right?’
‘Bullshit!’ I smiled and dismissively shook my head. ‘Spiders are small, therefore spider monkeys are small.’
He stopped walking. ‘Nope. I think the monkey you’re after is a pygmy marmoset.’
Spinning on my heel to face him, I continued to move backwards — I was late for the self-defence class and had to keep moving. ‘A pygmy marmawhat?’ I asked, laughing. ‘Who are you … the monkey whisperer?’
Dale belly-laughed then took a step towards me, all humour gone, his eyes now rimmed with mischief as he glanced down. ‘Maybe I am the whisperer of monkeys.’
I followed his line of sight, which was fixed on my black pinstripe A-line skirt. What the hell is he on abou— OH! Monkey is a vagina word.
MONKEY IS A VAGINA WORD!
My eyes snapped back to his, my mouth falling open and then closing.
‘Yeah,’ he murmured, leaning down from his height of an adolescent giraffe. ‘I know just what to say to have them doing exactly what I want.’
My cheeks and head all of a sudden grew hot, as if the sun had just woken and yawned in my face. The greyish-blue of Dale’s eyes disappeared behind his closed lids as he inhaled deeply, his black dilated pupils more prominent when he reopened them.
‘You smell good,’ he said, exhaling.
I leaned away, a little shocked. ‘Thaaaaanks. It’s Purr,’ I purred, ‘… by Katy Perry.’
He stared.
I stared back.
Then his white, slightly crooked teeth presented themselves as his cheeks lifted into a wide grin.
I tilted my head. ‘Okaaaaay then. Nice seeing you. Have a great day. Make sure you catch all the baddies,’ I spat out, retreating like a crab into its shell.
He chuckled and nodded his head. ‘Later, Tashy.’
Sneaking a look over my shoulder, I nearly walked smack-bang into the sliding glass entry door that wouldn’t open fast enough. Oh. My. Gobsmacked. Ovaries! What the fuck was that all about?
* * *
‘Yay! You made it,’ Alexis cheered as she spotted me snaking my way through a bunch of women murmuring excitedly to one another.
I inwardly smiled at the women who were all suffering from ‘Bryce Effect’. Once upon a time, I’d been a victim too, having experienced said goo-goo-gaa-gaa-stunned-vagina-Bryce-is-in-the-room symptoms when Alexis had first introduced me to him. Thankfully, I was more acclimatised now. I’d built somewhat of an immunity to the mouth-gaping, eye-bulging, schoolgirl-giggling disease he unknowingly inflicted. I’d had to. He was my best friend’s fiancé, my boss, and … and I was a happily married woman. I had my own eyeporn at home.
Speaking of eyeporn, my thoughts kept uncontrollably returning to Dale’s weird ‘I wanna whisper to your monkey’ performance from moments ago. I mean, what the hell? He’d never said or done anything so blatant. Sure, we playfully flirted in an innocent punny way every now and again, but in the past when he’d smiled, I’d smiled back. When he’d greeted me in the morning and said I looked nice, I’d reciprocated the compliment. When he’d opened doors and gestured for me to walk through before him, I’d done so and thanked him. When he’d been friendly, I’d been friendly too.
We’d both been friendly. FRIENDLY!
Huffing, I dropped my bag on the ground with a thud.
‘What’s wrong?’ Alexis asked, snapping me from my wayward thoughts.
I lied. ‘Nothing. I’m just trying to remember if I turned the oven off.’
She squatted in front of Brayden’s pram and lifted his water sippy cup to his lips. ‘The oven? What on earth were you baking first thing in the morning?’
Fuck! Um … ‘A cake, of course,’ I deadpanned.
She stood up and put her hands on her hips. ‘You don’t bake cakes.’
‘Do so.’
‘Do not.’
‘Do.’
‘What flavour was it?’
I glared at her. ‘Chocolate.’
She glared back. ‘Too obvious.’
‘Why am I here, Alexis?’ I asked, throwing the spotlight her way. Ha, take that!
The sneaky little blonde interrogator shifted on the spot. ‘So we can self-defend ourselves against creepers.’
‘That so?’
‘Yep.’
I leaned in and whispered, ‘You sit on a throne of lies.’
She whispered back, ‘I sit on a motherfucking iron throne.’
Eyes were narrowed.
Lips were pursed.
‘Ladies, thank you for coming today,’ Bryce announced, interrupting our game of thrones. ‘It’s nice to see some new faces and, of course, some familiar ones as well.’ His gaze swept the room before it settled on Alexis, his eyes blazing an inferno of lust. It nearly scorched my skin.
‘You’re up to something, Lexi,’ I murmured from the corner of my mouth. ‘Fess up.’
‘If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,’ she murmured back.
I had three words and three words only for her. ‘Throne. Of. Lies.’
Brayden whimpered, so Alexis squatted down and placed the sippy cup back in his hands. ‘There you go, baby boy.’
‘Ms Jones, Alexis, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company here today?’ Bryce said as he stepped up to the pram and placed his hand on top of it, his demeanour — as per usual — cool, calm and collected. The man had a better poker face than Lady Gaga.
I raised my eyebrows and was about to answer when Alexis butted in. ‘Just thought I’d bring our son to see his dad be all hero-like.’ Her smile and tone were sugary sweet.
Bryce lifted his hand and fingered a lock of her hair, his disposition remaining impassive. ‘That so, honey?’
She nodded.
A hint of a smile crept in at the corners of Bryce’s mouth. ‘Well, that’s a shame, because he can’t see much of my heroics if he’s asleep now, can he?’
We all looked down at Brayden, who had zonked, the sippy-cup teat dangling from his bottom lip.
‘Shit! Crap! Balls!’ Alexis hissed. ‘Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to join in on the class anyway, now that I’m here, of course.’
Weird. It was all very weird. But it was also quite amusing, so much so that I was inclined to take a seat and settle in for more of the Bryce and Lexi show. I just needed popcorn. A big box of buttery popcorn.
Bending down, Bryce gently pried the cup from his son’s fingers before staring at him for a moment. ‘So you wish to join the class?’ he asked, looking up at Alexis.
She shuffled on the spot and I wondered if she needed to pee.
‘Yeah, makes sense. Plus, Tash is here. I wanna keep her company.’
Say what? I shot my best friend a subtle what-the-hell-have-you-dragged-me-into look, to which she responded with a please-please-please-just-go-with-it glance.
So I did. I was the ultimate best friend, after all. ‘Yes siree, Mr boss-man. I want to learn how to defend myself against creeps, and I need girlpower for support. Alexis is my girlpower.’
Bryce smirked and I shuffled on the spot. And, funnily enough, I didn’t need to pee either. His smirks were simply shuffle-inducing. They left you speechless and turned on in a matter of seconds.
Aware of his smirking powers, I looked away and focussed on the doorway only to find Dale standing in the foyer of the hotel fitness centre with his back to the room, appearing to communicate through his ear and mouth piece. Heat flushed my body for the second time that morning, but I wasn’t sure if it was the type generated by inhibition or anger. All I knew was that my fingers and toes were tingling, my heart rate had picked up, and my cheeks were burning.
‘Let’s punch shit,’ I blurted out, turning to face Bryce and Alexis, who were both staring each other down. ‘I’m here to learn how to punch and kick people, so let’s do that.’
‘Technically, you don’t just punch and—’
‘Uh-uh-uh,’ I interrupted, waving my finger at my boss. ‘Now! Punch. Come on, I have work to do.’
Alexis shrugged and subdued a smile. ‘She’s got a point, Bryce. We all have work to do.’
The smirk on his face deepened. ‘Oh, we’re not done here, Ms Summers,’ he said, pulling Alexis flush against his chest and pressing his lips to hers.
She didn’t fight it. She just melded. Accepted his promise. I couldn’t blame her, and neither could the other women in the room, most of them sighing, oooohing or sounding a wolf whistle or two.
Yep, the Bryce Effect.
Holding up my hands, I addressed the frisky females surrounding us. ‘Okay, okay. Settle down, ladies. This right here is a regular occurrence. It shall pass in seconds.’
‘Minutes,’ Alexis mumbled.
‘Hours,’ Bryce corrected.
I punched them both.
I was very punchy.
‘Oh break it up. Boss-man, you have a class to teach. Alexis, you have some explaining to do. And me? Well, I have to punch shit. Chop chop.’
‘You better do as she says, Mr Clark,’ Alexis murmured against his lips as she pulled away. ‘You don’t want to get on her bad side.’
‘I pay her bad side. I pay all her bloody sides.’
Alexis giggled. ‘It’s what you do.’
Gah! I wanted to simultaneously spew in my mouth and gently caress my heart. They were just so … so in love. And not just in love, in lust-love. I missed lust-love. I wanted lust-love too.
After Bryce and Lexi finished sucking face, I found out that the reason she’d wanted to go to self-defence class was because Bryce had told her she needed to cut back her exercise, as she was losing too much weight. Lexi had post-preggers body image issues, and he was obviously concerned about her welfare, so he had said that if he caught her exercising without him, he’d kiss her without kissing her. I didn’t know what that meant other than it sounded intriguing enough for me to want a non-kiss kiss of my own. I’d never experienced one before. Plus, they didn’t sound like much of a punishment.
Commitment Page 2
