by Lily Harlem
“Gabe?” He flattened his hands, palms down, on the table and tipped forward. His tie swung into the gap between us. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“So spit it out.” He pressed his lips together and a flash of determination crossed over his eyes. “Whatever the hell it is.”
I swallowed. “She’s accusing you of having an affair with an old university friend.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not in touch with anyone from my university days.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fuck, yes.” He hesitated. “I went to a reunion, a year before I proposed to Nadia. It was up in Durham, that’s where I studied business. Loads of the old crowd went, mostly all doing well for themselves…”
His face softened and he stared past me, no doubt looking at the London skyline out of my window. I got the feeling he wasn’t really seeing and his mind had wandered elsewhere.
“And?” I asked gently.
“There was one person I was pleased to see but…” He straightened and shoved his hand through his hair. It sprang back into place all bar one strand, shaped like a tiny comma, which stayed sticking up just over his right ear.
I itched to flatten it. Comfort him. The information I was going to have to dig for next would not be easy. “But what?” I asked.
“But we didn’t stay in touch, not after…”
I stood. Walked around the desk, leaned my buttocks against it. I gripped the rim and looked at him. We were close now, very close and I could feel his body heat. “I understand this kind of thing can be hard. Having worked in this area of law for many years, I’ve seen countless marriages being torn apart and a million accusation flung about, but the thing is…” I tightened my hold on the table. The urge to press my hand on his shoulder or take his hand in mine was almost overwhelming. “We have to be honest with each other if I’m going to help you.”
“I’ve always been honest with you.” He folded his arms.
“Good, so you’ll tell me if this person you connected with was someone you met up with after you married Nadia.”
“I just told you, no, not at all, we haven’t had any communication since I married Nadia, there couldn’t be.”
I nodded. “Okay, that’s great. So there won’t be any phone calls or pictures or social media evidence that you continued to have a relationship.”
“No, absolutely not.”
There was a hardness to his voice, a conviction, and I really did believe him. However, he did need to know the full details of what he was being accused of because it was bound to come up in court when I made sure things didn’t go Nadia’s way.
“There’s more,” I said.
“I can handle it.” He gave a stiff shrug.
I wasn’t convinced he could but I went on anyway, “She’s implying that person you met up with was a man.” I paused. “She’s accusing you of having an affair with a man for the last eight years.”
Chapter One
Hayley
“Dry white wine, large, and a bottle of Becks, please.” I handed the barman a twenty and glanced around for a seat I could claim while I waited for Gabe.
The Golden Goose was filling up fast; it was that time of evening, but I could see a free table and three straight-backed chairs at the rear.
“Here you go.” The barman set the drinks before me then dropped the change into my palm. He flashed me a wide smile and let his fingers linger over my hand.
He was new, I hadn’t seen him before; young, attractive, his blond hair super-short which highlighted his angled features. He had a small black cross in his left ear lobe and a tight, black-beaded necklace.
“Thanks.” I returned the smile and collected the drinks.
I saw his gaze dip to my wedding ring then he nodded politely and moved to the next customer.
I smiled to myself. I adored being married to Gabe. It was the singular best thing that had ever happened in my life. Not only was he kind and caring, sexy and handsome, he was also my best friend. A person I could spend hours with talking about the intricacies of law without fear of boring him, and the man I started and ended each day with, and intended to for the rest of my life.
My last few steps to the free seats had to be hurried. It was like sharks after chump in here—chairs being the chump—and a couple of suits had set their eyes on what I wanted. I sashayed with an extra roll of my hips, my heels clacking loudly on the floor, and placed the drinks down a millisecond before the men reached the table.
I turned and gave them my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you just about to…?”
“It’s okay,” the dark-haired one with square-rimmed glasses said. “Ladies first.”
“Only if you’re sure.” I faked a concerned expression and tugged on my bottom lip.
“Absolutely.” He dropped his attention down my body.
His perusal didn’t bother me. I used my hourglass figure and my femininity to my advantage. Why fight it? Why insist I wasn’t perceived as female and only as a lawyer? I was both and I could work the two roles together, and most of the time the sum equaled more than the parts. “Oh, thanks, my feet are killing me in these heels.” I quickly sat and angled my crossed legs into the space between us, staking my claim on the seat.
His attention lingered on the high black stilettoes I wore. They worked well with my pale gray skirt suit. I’d added a shimmering black silk shirt and pearl earrings to complete the outfit. I’d enjoyed the sexy feel of the silk all day, skimming over my breasts and touching my neck.
I tapped the air with the toe of my shoe and took a sip of wine.
“Perhaps you’d like some company,” he said, supping on his beer then taking a step closer. His friend did the same, putting his hand on the back of one of the free chairs.
“Well, that would have been lovely, but—”
“Do you work around here?” his friend interrupted.
“Yes.”
“So do we, for The Mail. Always chasing hot stories.”
“And hot women,” the bloke with the glasses said with a smirk. “I’m Neil by the way.”
“Sam,” his mate said, holding out a hand in my direction.
I ignored it, inwardly groaned and took another sip of my drink. I’d actually planned on sending a couple of texts to friends while I waited for Gabe. I’d been neglectful of communication lately, so caught up in work and my husband that chatting to friends sometimes got left by the wayside.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
I turned at the sound of Gabe’s voice.
He stood just to my right, all wide shoulders and determined, set jaw. He had on my very favorite black suit today, the one he’d only half discarded when he’d fucked me last week. A little tremor snagged at my clit as I remembered the earth-moving orgasm he’d treated me to. It had been worth the expense of that new underwear even if it hadn’t stayed on long.
“Hey,” I said. “You’re here.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he considered the two men looming over me. His blue-gray eyes held a steely glint and a muscle flickered in his cheek.
“I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were waiting for someone,” the guy with the glasses said as he stepped backward.
His friend let go of the chair and eyed Gabe warily.
“Yes, my husband,” I said, enjoying the bloom of pride that filled my chest whenever I referred to Gabe that way. Mine, he was mine, the man in my life, my protector, my lover, my knight in shining armor.
“Well, we’ll, er, leave you to it,” the bespectacled man said, moving away.
He was closely followed by his mate.
“Hassling you?” Gabe asked, bending to kiss my cheek.
“They’d only just started. I’d have soon got rid of them.”
He smiled and stroked the back of his index finger down my face. “I have no doubts about that.”
Sitting, he reached for his beer and took a long drink. I studied hi
s light-brown hair, parted to the right. It was short and neat, as neat as when he’d left the house that morning. He had a dusting of stubble appearing on his chin and cheeks, a little over his top lip, but none on the small silvery scar just in front of his left ear. That stayed smooth and pale—the wire fence that had cut him as a kid had left a small zigzag shape.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Busy as always.”
He rested his arm around the back of my seat so that he was kind of hugging me but not. It was a possessive gesture, but I didn’t mind. I liked being his.
“Got a tricky financial divorce to get through, big money, high stakes.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s a successful business man, property mainly. Brent Dawson. His wife’s been having an affair and is now trying to take him for everything.”
I shook my head. “That’s not fun.”
Gabe frowned. “No, I feel sorry for him and I can’t understand why it’s happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s the sort of bloke other men want to be like, you know? He had everything to offer her yet she looked elsewhere.”
I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t imagine Gabe—gorgeous, confident, super-successful Gabe—ever wanting to be like anyone other than himself. “Why, what’s he like?”
Gabe shrugged. “Well, I suppose he’s just got loads going for him.”
“Like what?”
He took a sip of his beer, then, “Wealth, success, good looks, great body—”
“Great body?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Well…He’s an athlete, or into sports, tennis he said, and cycling. Not an ounce of fat on him. He’s got long, strong arms and legs.”
I’d never heard Gabe comment on another man’s physique before and it sparked my curiosity. “How do you know about his body?”
Gabe poked at the label on his beer and cast his eyes downwards. “Just a guess.”
I laughed. “Well, I don’t have to guess to know you’ve got a great body. Come on, it’s too busy in here. Let’s go home.”
“Yeah, it’s hot too.” He fingered the rim of his collar.
I stood and pulled the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Be hotter at home.”
He grinned and pressed a kiss to my lips. “You better believe it, baby.”
* * *
Stepping into our Chelsea townhouse, I kicked my high-heeled shoes into the corner of the hallway and dropped my handbag on a tall-backed chair.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” I said to Gabe as I deadlocked the door.
“Yes, you do that. I’ll make us a bedroom picnic.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It will be.”
I laughed and headed for the bedroom. After shutting the curtains then stripping my clothes off, I set my earrings on a stylish mirrored dressing table and headed for the ensuite.
It was newly refurbished as a wet room and was all dark slate, moody downlighters and minimalist chrome fittings. I loved it. It was trendy and practical, the perfect combination.
I turned on the shower to the rainforest setting and stood under the fall of hot water.
After a quick shampoo, I lathered up with my favorite Jo Malone showergel, washed, rinsed then stepped out. There was no point putting clothes on, Gabe would only take them off again, so I bundled up in a fluffy red robe, rubbed at my long curls to get the worst of the water off then wandered into the bedroom.
Gabe was at the bedside table, lighting a candle.
“That was quick,” he said, smiling my way.
The muted shadows of the room sliced across his handsome face and a tug in my groin reminded me how much I wanted him. But we had all night. We were married, in our own home—sometimes it was nice not to rush. He was a sure thing.
“Yes, I’m hungry,” I said with a smile then licking my lips.
“I’ve done cheese and biscuits, grapes and some of that foie gras from yesterday.”
“Perfect.” I walked over to the tray he’d set on the end of the bed and popped a green grape into my mouth.
“Can you wait while I have a shower?” he asked.
“Of course.”
He’d already removed his jacket so I kneeled on the bed to watch him take his clothes off. He had no idea how much it turned me on to see him undress. It was like my very own personal striptease show and I did my utmost to watch him if I had the chance.
Slowly, so slowly, he unknotted his tie and pulled it free from his collar. All kinds of delicious thoughts came to me whenever I saw that particular navy tie. It was the one he’d wrapped around my wrists then wrapped around the bedpost last time we’d been away. Surrendering to him, letting him pleasure me in the most deliciously torturous ways with his fingers, tongue and cock had left me wrung out and more satisfied that I could ever remember.
He laid the tie on the chair by my dressing table then undid his small shirt buttons. Each one revealed a little more of his hair-coated chest until finally his navel was also on show.
I cut myself a sliver of cheese then nibbled it. I loved his stomach. It wasn’t bricked and defined like a supermodel’s, because he wasn’t a supermodel, but it was flat and had a tantalizing strip of thickening hair leading to his waistband.
He paused and glanced at his iPhone, seemingly oblivious to me watching him, then he placed that and his keys and wallet on the dresser.
Pushing my hand through my hair, I continued to study him closely.
He tugged the shirt from his suit trousers and let it hang open while he unbuckled his belt and slid it through the loops.
I swallowed and stared at the thin strip of leather hanging in his hands. That would be fairly efficient at tying me up, too.
He glanced upwards at me. His lips parted but he didn’t speak. He looked from me to the belt that had harnessed my attention and back at me.
I raised my gaze to his and tilted my head.
He shut his mouth and his lips twitched into a half-smile.
“Really?” he asked.
I shrugged, playing it cool. “Really what?”
“You really want this belt?” He stepped closer, his bare feet silent on the deep-pile carpet.
“I want you but if you can think of something fun to do with that belt…” I paused and pressed my wrists together, “then perhaps you should just do it.”
He held the both ends of the belt and snapped it straight. The dark, excited look in his eyes was thrilling and beyond sexy.
A tightening in my belly sent shivers of arousal to my pussy and my nipples.
“Well, I never thought I’d use my belt on my gorgeous wife, but if you insist.” He spoke in a dark, husky way that assured me that the only thing on his mind now was sex. Sex and fucking.
He leaned forward, hung above me, and spoke onto my lips. “The picnic will wait until after I’ve had my wicked way with you.”
“I think that would work.” I straightened my legs and rested back onto the bed.
He pushed into me and set a kiss over my lips.
“Mmm…” he said, shifting. “Like this.”
His weight was heavy on me, his legs either side of my hips as he sat straight, straddling my body. His ass on my lower abdomen.
I stared up at him. His skin was dark in comparison to the open white shirt he still wore and his shoulders so wide blocking out the rest of the room from my vision.
He was all I saw.
He was all I wanted.
“Put your hands over your head, Mrs. Stone.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone. Anything you say, Mr. Stone.” I did as he’d asked and curled my fingers around the wooden slats in our bedframe.
“Very good.” He reached upward and threaded the belt through my wrists.
I studied the underside of his chin as he worked. Peppered with stubble and with a slight indent as he stretched forward. I could see his pulse beating beneath the surface of his skin, pounding away as fast a
s mine was.
This moment of surrender, of giving myself to him was thrilling, and as the belt tightened on my flesh and his fingers secured the buckle, the worries and stresses of the day rose from me.
I was his now. Nothing else mattered.
“Is that okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
He smiled. The candlelight flashed in his eyes. “Good.”
I opened my mouth for his kiss. Our tongues tangled then he lifted off me and sat at my side, his legs folded beneath him.
“Oh, what a sight,” he said, easing apart my robe which had slipped open and exposed my right breast. “You really are so beautiful. It’s a sin for you to wear clothes at all.”
“So take them off.” I wriggled and the robe fell apart some more.
He poked out his tongue and licked his lips. “Oh, I will, don’t you worry about that.”
He ducked and suckled my right nipple into his mouth.
The hot, wet sensation went straight to my pussy. A warm heat between my legs told me I was getting damp for him. I yanked my arms and arched my back. The loss of ability to move added to my excitement.
He lapped, licked then nipped my delicate flesh. With his other hand he exposed my left breast and tweaked that nipple.
“Gabe…” I gasped and looked down at the top of his head. His neat thick, hair shimmered in the dim light; the chestnut colors in the short strands seeming to glow golden.
“Mmm…” he murmured, kissing across my sternum and leaving a warm damp trail with his tongue and lips.
I shut my eyes and groaned.
He massaged and squeezed my breasts. The need for more grew within me.
“So hot for it,” he whispered. “Fuck, so damn hot.”
His breaths heated my skin. He swept his hand down my stomach and I parted my legs.
“Are you wet as well as hot?” he asked, stretching out on his belly.
