Marital Affair
Jasmine Black
Marital Affair
Copyright © 2010 by Jasmine Black
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jasmine Black
Published by Jasmine Black at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition 1.0, January 2010
Visit Jasmine Black at her blog
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
DEDICATION: Thank you to all my wonderful friends at Heart who encourage me to keep going.
Chapter 1
“The test came back negative.” More bad news from Dr. Wendell.
Lucas Sinclair turned to his wife, Colleen, sitting in the plush leather chair next to him. The when-is-it-going-to-happen look was plastered all over her face; blank eyes, lips neither smiling nor frowning, and pale cheeks. He grabbed the tissues from the inside pocket of his suit coat and handed them to her. Her cold hands trembled.
“Why can’t I get pregnant?” Colleen turned her head away, wrapped her arms around her empty belly and rocked.
Lucas rubbed her back and she flinched, letting him know his touch was unwelcomed at this particular moment.
Dr. Wendell fumbled with the chart on his desk. “You’re a real estate agent, correct?”
When Colleen refused to answer, Lucas offered the information. “Yes, we both are.”
“How many hours do you work in a given week?” Dr. Wendell looked at him.
This was the part of the visit where Colleen clammed up and refused to participate.
“Fifty to sixty.”
“Uh hum.” He jotted a note down. “And the new house, are you settled in?”
“We still have some unpacking to do, but the worst part is over.”
Dr. Wendell turned to Colleen. “Mrs. Sinclair, are you eating healthy? Getting enough sleep?”
“Why does it matter? You’re acting like this is my fault, like I can just will myself to get pregnant. Well, I can’t. I’ve tried.” She stood and walked to the wall of windows overlooking the city. “Nothing I’ve done has worked.”
“Colleen, we’ve been through this, no one is blaming anyone. I’ve run the test on both of you. Twice. There is nothing physically wrong with either of you, so at this point we need to evaluate the stress of your lifestyle. That’s all.” Dr. Wendell pulled out a calendar. “You need to plan intercourse when you’re ovulating, eat healthy, exercise. Those sort of things for the both of you.”
“We’ve been doing that for two years. I don’t need another chart. They’re all over the house now.” Colleen grunted as she shredded the tissues in her hands.
Dr. Wendell set their file down and took off his glasses. “I know I’ve asked you before, but would you be willing to talk to my colleague? She’d be happy to help.”
Colleen spun around and glared at the doctor. “Colleague? You mean a sex therapist. Someone to tell me how to have sex. Please my man. What, I don’t eat right, sleep right, work right? Now I don’t fuck right?”
“Honey, please.” Lucas went to her and wrapped her in his arms. She stiffened at his touch, but he had to keep trying to get through to her. “No one is saying that. I’m not saying that.” He looked into her eyes. “Please, let’s just give it a try.”
“Fine,” she huffed as if she’d been worn down, but he could see the resignation in her eyes.
“Great. I’ll go get her.”
“Right now?” Colleen asked, but like speed lightning, the old doctor had already took flight and disappeared from the office.
Lucas led his wife back to the leather chair she’d abandoned. They’d been trying to have a baby for five years and it seemed like it would never happen. The months had dragged out to years and with each passing month, Colleen pushed him further and further away.
The door opened and a woman in her mid-forties with short red hair wearing too much jewelry came in. “Hello, I’m Dr. Downing.” She shook both of their hands, bracelets clanging. “Well now, Dr. Wendell tells me you’re a bit uneasy talking with me.” She rolled the tall leather chair from behind the desk closer to them.
“A little bit.” More like a whole lot, but if she could help them, he would willingly go through some embarrassment for the love of his life. Anything to make her smile and laugh again.
“There’s no need to be. Couples have trouble conceiving all the time. Sometimes the smallest things can change that.” She patted Colleen’s knee.
“I’ve changed my diet, sleep eight hours a night, plan sex . . . It’s just not working.”
The doctor shook her head and smiled. “I mean other things.”
Colleen sniffed. “Like what?”
Her fingers pressed into the leather armrest, but she turned to the doctor to listen.
Relief washed over him. Maybe this was a good idea after all.
“Like variety. How long have you been married?”
“Seven years,” he answered with pride, hoping Colleen would be impressed he knew.
“Okay, so you’re not newlyweds anymore and most likely you’ve fallen into a pattern. Today’s couple is overworked, tired, stressed out and always on the run. They drive home, grab supper on the way, and eat in front of some reality show. If they even have the energy for sex, God bless them for it. But most likely, they set the alarm before they do the deed in case they fall asleep during the act.”
He watched a smile form on Colleen’s beautiful face. Something he hadn’t seen enough of lately. It reminded him of happier times when they’d call in sick just to stay in bed all day. Even though they’d been married for years, he still saw her as if they’d just said their vows, making the rift between them that much harder to bear.
“So, what kind of variety do you mean?” Colleen leaned in, hanging on the doctor’s words.
“I want the two of you to have an affair. Have an affair with each other. Bring back the magic you experienced in the beginning.”
An Affair! With each other? “How do you do that?” He leaned in closer to the doctor as well, his interest piqued.
Dr. Downing smiled. “Sneak around, leave each other notes. Send her flowers. Live out your fantasies. Be a different person, any name, age or even from any era you want to be. Have sex outside of your home. I bet your bedroom is full of books on how to have sex the right way to get pregnant and every time the two of you have sex, it’s all about making a baby. You need to change that, make it about the love you share, enjoy each other, have fun. I bet once you start having fun again, you’ll conceive in no time.”
“Well, I do have one fantasy.” Colleen giggled.
His ears perked up. What? She’d never told him about her fantasies, but he couldn’t wait to discover them.
* * *
The smell of fresh roasted coffee awoke Lucas from his slumber. He stumbled into the kitchen, with only his boxer shorts on, to find Colleen dressed and ready to do whatever it was she did all day long. It’d been a few weeks since they’d talked to Dr. Downing and she’d been sneaking around behind his back ever since. Maybe she was having an affair. With someone else.
"Morning." She gave him the habitual morning peck on his cheek. "I'm off to run some errands. I won't be back until later this evening. Please try to have some clothes on when I get back."
He grunted and rubbed his eyes.
With that, she grabbed her purse and rushed out the door, leaving him to his Saturday alone. Their problems hadn’t gotten any better. They still couldn't have a single conversation without her busting out in tears, except in passing or about mundane issues. Although, she had confessed her fantasy.
He drank his coffee and headed off to shower; knowing Colleen’s actions had been part of the game. She wasn’t having an affair with anyone else and he knew it. But in a few hours, they’d both be having one. With each other.
Chapter 2
He watched her from afar, perched on a sloping limb of an oak tree. Today, he was Sir Dagan, giver of grain and she was his fair maiden, Dileah, lover of the meadow.
Crouching behind the reddish-orange leaves hanging from the multitude of branches, he couldn't take his eyes off her. The sun beat down and gleamed off her darkened skin. Flaxen hair rustled in the cool breeze, mimicking the sway of the wheat stalks growing in the field.
She gathered her skirts and knelt down, picking white daisies that were wildly sprinkled over the earth. Bunnies dashed out from the wheat field and hopped off yonder into the woods. He looked back at Dileah in time to see her long flowing hair slip to one side, revealing the sensuous curve of her neck.
His breathing grew rapid at the sight and his throat became dry. He wanted to touch her neck, taste her skin, feel her frantic pulse beating under his lips. But he'd wait to make his move; watch her until he was sure she wanted to take a lover.
Rumors of the fair maiden who picked wild flowers and drank from the bubbling brook had circulated through his hunting lodge. Only a few chosen ones had been lucky enough to experience her seduction. He had to see her for himself, taking the chance that he might become one of her chosen.
Everything he'd heard about her, so far, was true.
She lived and breathed. Were the rest of the rumors true?
Her chest heaved as she inhaled the scent of a flower. Ample bosom threatened to spill over the top of her bodice, leaving his mind to roam the numerous possibilities. Were her nipples pale-pink against her dark skin or rosy-red in the center of white globes the sun had never kissed? Were they small pebbles or large buds? His blood warmed and traveled south, but still he waited for her to drink of the brook.
Yards and yards of blue cotton fabric composed her skirt, flowed down to the ground around her feet. Tiny toes poked out from under the veil of clothing and tested the water.
Not wanting to miss her sign, he inched to another tree limb to be closer and see better, yet staying hidden from her view.
Her delicate hand cupped and dipped into the brook. Pouting her lips, she sipped the fresh spring water. Sweat trickled down his temple as her succulent tongue licked drops of moisture from her sensuous lips. The sign had been given, the maiden lover desired to mate.
Slowly, he descended from his refuge so not to startle her. He clambered down, limb by limb, until his boots hit the ground, never taking his eyes off her. The air assaulted his senses with the smell of fresh perfume from the flowers mixed with the ripening grain.
His heart pounded at the base of his throat with each step towards her. The water rushed over pebbles and birds chirped out a soft melody. Above it all, his heartbeat roared in his ears. She slipped both hands in the spring then stood, ran them down her neck, over her bosom. Raised droplets of water on her skin made his mouth dry from his desire to lick them off.
Gathering her skirts once more, she giggled and twirled in circles. The innocent act of a child, but he knew her to be five years his senior and more experienced in the ways of love. Her high girlish voice sent shivers to his heart and desire arrowing to his cock.