Arms Wide Open

by Donna Jay

  Arms Wide Open

  By Donna Jay

  Copyright © 2019 Donna Jay

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except for the use of brief quotations in any review or critical article, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is forbidden without prior written permission from the author, Donna Jay.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorised editions.

  Dedication

  For T.

  Acknowledgements

  Heartfelt thanks go to Kim, my esteemed beta-reader. Although you live on the other side of the world, you’re never more than one-click away. Thank you for keeping me on track when I feel like I’m losing the plot. This is a better story because of you.

  Sophie, thank you so much for agreeing to beta-read for me again. After what I put you through with Katie’s story, I wasn’t sure you would. Like Kim, your input is invaluable, even when I’m grumbling about rewrites.

  Thanks, as always, go to my trusty proof-reader, Robert.

  Any errors that remain are my own, or, quite possibly, kiwisms.

  Chapter 1

  Just as Yvonne was about to go on her break, rain pelted the windows. Sighing, she kissed her lunchtime walk goodbye.

  The thundering of the downpour made it hard to think, let alone hear. Startled, she jumped when Fiona walked up behind her.

  “Shit, I didn’t hear you.”

  “I’m not surprised over that noise.” Fiona folded her arms across her chest, nodding at the rain streaked windows. “You’re not going walking in this, are you?”

  With her fifty first birthday fast approaching, Yvonne did what she could to keep in shape. She liked looking nice for her wife. Hell, everything she did, she did with Julie in mind. She was her world. The sun that shined even on the darkest of days.

  She didn’t mind walking in the rain, but with the wind coming in sideways she wouldn’t make it as far as the footpath before her umbrella was inside out, and she didn’t fancy being a drowned rat.

  “Nope, I’m going to surprise my wife and go home for lunch.”

  “Oh, lucky you.” Fiona waggled her eyebrows.

  Heat shot up Yvonne’s neck and it wasn’t from a hot flash. She never discussed her sex life at work. She didn’t discuss it period.

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I wouldn’t tell anyone if you did.” Fiona’s cheeky smile was infectious.

  Yvonne shook her head, grinning despite herself. “Hold the fort.”

  “Aye-aye, captain.”

  Like a divine intervention, the rain eased up just as Yvonne dashed from the building to her car.

  She briefly considered texting Julie, but then what kind of surprise would that be? As she drove, she envisioned her wife’s warm brown eyes lighting up when she stepped inside, black hair tucked behind her ear. Jeans hugging long, toned legs.

  If she’d ever worn a skirt, it was long before Yvonne met her.

  They’d had their ups and downs over the years, but Julie always greeted her with a kiss and a smile.

  By the time she got home, it was bucketing down again. Rather than park in the detached garage, she pulled to a stop in the driveway and sprinted for the house.

  “Phew.” Yvonne shook water off her hands and brushed droplets off her clothes.

  Other than the pounding of the rain on the roof, the house was eerily quiet. Ginger was nowhere to be seen, and the stereo and television that normally played as background noise were off.

  Hearing a soft moan from up the hallway, Yvonne crept toward their bedroom with her heart in her throat.

  The sight before her made her gasp. She didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  Julie was in the middle of the bed, legs spread, dildo beside her, iPad in one hand, squeezing her breasts with the other.

  When Julie spoke to whoever was on the screen, Yvonne froze.

  “You like that, Mistress?”

  Who was she talking to?

  Eyes glued to the screen, Julie twisted a nipple. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been such a naughty girl.”

  Stunned, Yvonne couldn’t wrap her head around what she was seeing, let alone confront her wife.

  She backed out of the room and down the hallway. She cursed when the back of her head connected with the lip of the hall door. That’d teach her for leaving it ajar instead of wide open when she’d decided to do some amateur sleuthing.

  Rubbing her head, she made for the kitchen, pulled open the pantry door, and grabbed her prescription meds.

  And that’s where Julie found her.

  “Hi. What’re you doing home?” Her voice was soft and warm. Nothing like the husky timber from moments before. And that broke Yvonne’s heart all over again.

  Barely able to look her wife in the eyes, now dressed in baggy tracksuit pants and an old T-shirt, Yvonne glanced at the pill bottle. “I forgot to take my omeprazole this morning. My stomach’s churning like molten-lava.” Not entirely a lie.

  Ginger chose that moment to make an appearance, but not even her beloved cat could calm her racing heart.

  “You poor thing. You work too hard.” Julie wrapped her arms around Yvonne’s neck. Yvonne recoiled when she caught a whiff of arousal on her fingers.

  “How about a cup of peppermint tea, it might help to settle your tummy?”

  That was doubtful. Right then, all Yvonne wanted to do was put some distance between them, so she could process.

  “Can’t, sorry. Fiona’s expecting me.”

  “Fiona?” Questions swam in Julie’s eyes.

  Nothing like a guilty conscience to rouse suspicion.

  “I work with her.”

  “Oh, right.” Julie chuckled. “I remember now.”

  “I told her I’d only be a jiffy. See you tonight.” Yvonne gave Julie a quick peck on the cheek and made a run for it.

  ***

  Back at work, she took a moment to compose herself. She ducked into the ladies and studied herself in the mirror. Glassy green eyes stared back at her. Blinking hard, she swiped away a tear.

  She couldn’t let go. Not now. Not at work. There were claims to be processed and building projects to keep on schedule.

  If she didn’t think about it too hard, Yvonne could almost convince herself she hadn’t walked in on her wife doing…doing what?

  It was the not knowing that was killing her. She was well aware Julie had a higher sex drive than she did, and guessed she took care of her own needs from time-to-time, but knowing and seeing were two different things. Especially when she had interrupted something she’d otherwise be clueless about. And who had she been talking to?

  Try as she might, Yvonne couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal burning a hole in her stomach. The bigger question was how she was going to deal with it.

  She had no clue if Julie knew she’d seen her, or if she’d leapt off the bed when she heard Yvonne bang into the door, chucked on some clothes and assumed she was off scot-free.

  If she knew, it made no sense she didn’t say anything. Then again, Yvonne hadn’t said anything either. And what was Julie supposed to say? ‘Oh, hey, I was just letting a bit of steam off so you wouldn’t feel bad about not wanting sex tonight.’ Because God knew it was a rare night when Yvonne wanted sex during the week.

  The second she stepped back into the office, Fiona gave her a cheeky smile. “That was quick.” She guffawed. �
��Get it? A quickie.”

  In no mood for sexual innuendos, Yvonne gave her at tight-lipped smile. “Think what you like.”

  Unperturbed, Fiona glanced out the window. “Hey, look, it’s stopped raining. I’m going to run next door and grab a pie. Want anything?”

  To rewind the last hour of my life?

  “No, I’m fine.” Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  ***

  When Yvonne arrived home that night, she played things cool. As in cold and distant.

  On one hand she wanted to ask Julie outright what she’d been doing, but if she’d been doing nothing more than masturbating she didn’t want to come across as an insecure lover.

  The physical she could deal with, but not knowing who she’d been talking to was tearing her up inside.

  “Can I get you a wine, Vonn?” Julie asked like any other Friday night.

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Stressful day?” Julie gave her a small smile. “I feel bad sometimes that my job’s so cruisy.”

  Yeah, must suck having so much free time to masturbate.

  “No point feeling bad, it is what it is.” She shrugged and turned her attention to the television.

  Ginger jumped into her lap, turned in a circle, and plonked his furry backside down.

  “Wow, someone’s feeling pissy.” Julie banged her glass of wine on the chairside table, slopping some over the sides.

  “Thanks.” Yvonne took a sip and screwed up her face. The wine tasted as sour as her mood.

  “Wanna talk about it? Your boss being a dick again?”

  “No and no.” Yvonne folded her arms across her chest. “Why don’t you tell me about your day? Anything interesting happen?”

  There, she’d put the ball in her court.

  A slow smile crept across Julie’s face. She sat on the sofa and tucked her legs under her. The sparkle in her eyes reminded Yvonne of when they’d first met, and the thought that look was for someone else, even someone on an iPad, made her throat tight.

  “This morning I had to drive all the way to Ohakune to read one meter.” She put her beer down. “Can you believe it, a four hour roundtrip to read one electricity meter?”

  “Wow, tough job, paid to drive around the countryside.”

  Either not picking up on her sarcasm or choosing to ignore it, Julie continued, “I was making my way around to the back of the house when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted movement in the living room.”

  Feigning interest, Yvonne swallowed a yawn. She was beyond tired and far from in the mood to hear one of Julie’s work tales.

  “A man was on his knees, hands tied in front of him. A woman was whipping his back.”

  That had her attention. “Oh my God, that’s awful. Did you call the cops?”

  The sharp tone of her voice made Ginger raise his head. She scratched under his chin.

  A snort bubbled out of Julie. “They were having fun.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She was dressed in leather, and he had a hard…”

  “Don’t say it.” Yvonne screwed her eyes shut. “There must be something wrong with him. I don’t see how being spanked or beaten or whatever you want to call it can be seen as fun.”

  Smile gone, Julie shook her head. “Considering you’ve refused to try it, that’s pretty judgmental.”

  The few minutes of relaxed conversation vanished in a flash of anger. “Because it’s wrong. I don’t want to tie you up and spank your arse any more than I want to be tied up and spanked.”

  “You don’t want sex at all lately.”

  “It’s Friday night, I’m fuckin’ knackered. Some of us work for a living.”

  Silence hung between them like a dark curtain.

  Frustration crept into Julie’s voice, but her expression remained neutral. “Would you like me to get a regular nine-to-five job, that way we can both rush in the door at five, argue over whose turn it is to cook, laundry and all other chores can fill our weekends instead of movie dates and walks in the park. Is that what you want?”

  The fight went out of Yvonne. “No.”

  Other than every second Friday when Julie finished at noon, she was often gone before Yvonne was out of bed and home again by three. But her day didn’t end when she walked in the door. Chores were done, dinner was cooked, or at the very least prepared.

  Although Yvonne’s job could be stressful, she had the better end of the deal when it came to marriage. At least until the topic of sex came up.

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and this shitty weather doesn’t help.”

  The fireplace crackled serving as a reminder it didn’t light itself. “Thanks for lighting the fire.”

  “You’re welcome,” Julie’s reply was clipped, and Yvonne couldn’t blame her.

  Or could she? It was Julie’s midday actions that had put her in a crappy mood. But Julie wasn’t a mind reader, so Yvonne had two choices; to come clean or go and wallow in her own misery. She chose the latter.

  “I’m going to go and soak in the bath.” She roused Ginger. “Come on, big boy, off you get.”

  He dutifully did as he was told and promptly curled up in front of the fire.

  “Want me to wash your back?” Julie gave her a saucy wink.

  “Jesus, I just told you I’m fuckin’ knackered.”

  Ignoring her wife’s open mouthed stare, she stormed out of the room and burst into tears. Sitting on the toilet, she glanced at the red stain on her knickers. “Fucking great, just what I need.”

  Chapter 2

  After internalising everything for most of the weekend, Monday couldn’t come soon enough. As soon as Yvonne arrived at work, she made a call to her best friend. Sarah would know what to do, and even if she didn’t, she’d be the perfect sounding board.

  Yvonne had gone over what she’d seen so many times, it was all a jumbled mess in her head.

  Sarah picked up after the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me. Can you do lunch?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’ll miss your walk.”

  There was no point denying it, Sarah knew her too well. “I need to talk.”

  “You okay?” Her voice was full of concern.

  “I can’t say over the phone. See you soon.”

  At noon, Yvonne set aside the building contracts and grabbed her purse. She headed past reception as casually as possible, but not much got past Fiona.

  “No walk today?”

  “Not you too?”

  “We could set the clock by you.” Fiona ticked off items on her fingers. “Morning tea at ten, walk at noon, sandwich at your desk at twelve-thirty, cuppa tea at three, out the door by five.”

  Tamping down the urge to tell her to mind her own business, Yvonne plastered on a smile. “I’ll be back at one. Hold my calls, please.”

  Grinning, Fiona shuffled some papers. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Yvonne shook her head. It was impossible to stay angry with Fiona for long. She was the perfect person to have on reception. Dealing with subcontractors could be trying to say the least. Yet, no matter how arrogant some of them were, Fiona’s smile never faltered.

  Or perhaps she simply didn’t let things get under her skin like Yvonne had a tendency to do.

  When she arrived at the café, Sarah was already seated at a table, jacket hanging off the back of her chair. She stood when Yvonne approached.

  She was a petite woman with mousy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a perpetual smile.

  “Good to see you.” Sarah stood and they exchanged a brief hug.

  “Have you ordered?” Yvonne asked as she sat.

  “Drinks only. I thought I’d wait and see what you felt like.”

  “Not much to be honest.” Every time she thought about the conversation they were about to have, her stomach felt like it was trying to eat itself.

  A barista bustled over, pla
cing two steaming mugs on their table. Yvonne inhaled the aroma of Thai tea—fruity and earthy—before taking a fortifying sip. She exhaled an appreciative sigh. “Damn, that’s good.”

  “Thank you.” The barista smiled. “Would you like to order?”

  “A blueberry muffin will do for me,” Yvonne said.

  “How about you, Ma’am?”

  “I’ll have a bacon-and-egg panini, thanks.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Once the barista stepped away, Sarah cut to the chase. “What’s up?”

  Diving right in, Yvonne blurted out, “Have you ever caught Neil masturbating?”

  Coffee snorted out of Sarah’s nose. “Where the hell did that come from?”

  “Just humour me.”

  “No.”

  “What would you do if you did?”

  A cheeky smile tugged at the corner of Sarah’s mouth. “I’d like to say offer to finish him off…”

  “Ew.” Yvonne crinkled her nose.

  “Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.”

  Not happening. She was as gay as Sarah was straight.

  They both fell silent as the barista placed their orders in front of them. Yvonne smothered her muffin in butter and took a small bite. The tart flavour of blueberries exploded on her tongue and she murmured her appreciation.

  “Back to what I was saying.” Sarah picked up her knife and fork. “I’d probably discreetly leave and pretend I didn’t see a thing to save both of us from any embarrassment.”

  And here came the cruncher. Yvonne glanced around to see if anyone was paying them any attention. She lowered her voice. “What if he was talking to a woman?”

  “Like in a porn magazine?”

  “No!” Frustration crept into Yvonne’s voice. “As in up close and personal on his iPad.”

  Sarah sat back, looking thoughtful. “Given we’re talking hypothetically, I’m not sure, but wouldn’t that be kind of like emotional cheating?”

  Having her feelings validated hurt more than Yvonne expected, because it confirmed her suspicions. “I think Julie’s cheating.”

  Sarah scoffed. “With a woman…in an iPad.”

  Finding nothing funny about her situation, Yvonne glared at Sarah. She needed support not mockery.