Authors: C. J. Fallowfield
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Humorous, #Mystery, #Romantic Erotica
By C. J.
Copyright © 2014 C. J.
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
Any unauthorized reprint or use
of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system
without express written permission from the author
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations and places
or events, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or
locales is entirely coincidental.
Image Copyright © 2014
Edited by Ella Marie
Proofreading by Karen J
Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at
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Thank you so much for buying
31 Days of
This is book one of the
31 Days Series
a duology combining romance, erotica and humour. The series is designed to be
read in the following sequence:
31 Days of Winter
31 Days of Summer
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As I stood in the doorway
of my bedroom and tried to work out who and what I was seeing from the tangled
limbs and the bodies adorning my bed, I realised that this Friday was going to
end like no other ever had.
When I woke up that morning, Friday the sixth of
December, it had started out just like every Friday morning for the last year. I
was in a routine, a seriously boring routine. Zac, my fiancé of four years
would come into the bedroom in his three piece suit, his black briefcase in one
hand and his stainless steel travel mug emitting delicious coffee scented steam
in the other, to kiss me goodbye before heading into the City to broker share
deals for his clients. I’d get up, shower, dress in a smart power suit and grab
a bagel from the local deli, which I’d eat on my tube ride to my job as a Senior
Editor to the most ill-tempered CEO of a publishing house ever born. Most
people were happy in their jobs on a Friday, because the working week was
nearly over, not him. If anything his mood darkened as the day progressed, you
could practically witness the storm clouds rolling in ready for the lightning
strike, due to his fury at everyone racing for the exit door at five p.m. I
always dreaded those Friday afternoons at work, they left me so stressed. I was
always one of the first in that mad dash for the door, for that sudden bid for
freedom, we were like herds of stampeding wildebeest and it was our weekly
migration. I’d head home, cook and eat, usually alone, as Zac often worked late
then went for a drink with his colleagues. I’d have a relaxing bath with a
glass or two of wine to ease the tension, then an early night to prepare me for
a relaxing weekend. And that was my Friday routine for as long as I could
remember, until today.
I’d been with Zac for five years, we’d met
straight after I finished University and had moved in together a year later. He
was a charmer, he could sell condoms to a eunuch and
, did he know
how to woo a girl. He was handsome, well-toned and funny, and had me in
hysterics more often than not. I really enjoyed spending time with him and had
happily accepted when he proposed, but lately I wasn’t entirely convinced that
it was love, if it had ever been. He was an easy package to fall for, but I was
wondering if that was all it was, easy. I felt no great passion or lust for him
and didn’t pine when we were apart for any reason. I was a romantic, I’d always
believed that great loves would die without each other, like Romeo and Juliet.
I wanted that, without the whole misunderstanding and tragic death part, of
course. I wanted to
someone, badly, and be that desired in return.
I cared for Zac deeply, but I’d never wanted him,
or needed him. It was just
. Except for the sex. Our sex life, if
you could call it that, had diminished to the point that we only did it if he
was drunk enough to initiate it, or if it was a special occasion, even then it
had been nearly a year since we had. New Year’s Eve, eleven whole months of no
sex. I’d been re-virginised and was spending a serious amount of money on
batteries and vibrator cleansing wipes. With Zac working as a Stockbroker in
London’s financial district, known as the City, and given the state of play of
the markets for the last few years, I assumed that his lack of interest in me
was due to the stress he was under. I could have initiated sex myself, but
after a few rejections, which had really hurt my ego, quite frankly I preferred
my vibrator. That pretty much spoke volumes about the state of our relationship.
As for his obvious lack of desire for me, well
that I just couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t like I was unattractive, far from it. I
was five foot ten, a size twelve with a firm pert pair of tits and an arse that
men loved to grab, even when it was uninvited. I had below the shoulder straight
blonde hair, which offset my pale skin making my emerald green eyes seem even
brighter. I always drew attention on a night out and when we’d first started
dating and living together he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off me. Yet,
leading up to our permanent drought, sex had seemed to have become a function that
we felt we had to perform, until it finally fizzled out altogether. Even his
humour was starting to wane, he was tense and irritable and spent more and more
hours in the office.
It wasn’t as if I were totally blameless, I knew
that. As well as my preference for my vibrator, I felt totally unfulfilled in
my job. As if working alongside my boss John, fondly known as Captain Cranky
amongst the staff, wasn’t bad enough, I was convinced I could do a better job
at writing than half of the books that I was being paid to edit. Recently I’d
dreamed of packing it in and just trying my hand at a novel. Financially we
could afford for me to do it, Zac owned a penthouse apartment on Canary Wharf,
mortgage free, and we had considerable joint savings which had a balance
standing at a little over £60,000 when I last checked. He paid all the bills, I
covered the food and did the cooking and cleaning. Most of my wages, that
weren’t spent on shoes, clothes and bags, an admitted indulgence of mine, went
into savings. We were building up a nest egg to move out of London and into the
country, ready for when we got married and started a family.
We also kept individual savings and I’d managed to
accrue just over £20,000 in mine. I
afford to pack in work, try
writing for a few months and if it didn’t work out look for another editing job
with a new firm. I was respected in the industry and had been headhunted a
number of times, but despite my current predicament with Captain Cranky, I
really didn’t like change, better the devil and all that. I’d suffered some
loss in my life and found routine and stability suited me.
As I stood on the tube, tucking into my cream
cheese bagel, I pondered my plans for Zac’s birthday tomorrow. I decided I
needed to think of doing something special to cheer him up, as I was fed up
being surrounded by irritable men lately. Given that I was also sex starved, I
figured if we couldn’t try and reignite our libidos on his birthday, then when
could we? So that’s how my day began. Full of routine and completely lacking in
excitement. I got to work and was virtually slammed back into the lift by the
wave of tension emanating from the few employees who were already in and decided
I didn’t need this today, not if I wanted to be in the right frame of mind for
an attempted romantic fun birthday weekend. I went and knocked on the Captain’s
‘What?’ he roared in my direction, my hair
billowing behind me as I wiped my mouth from the imaginary flobber that had
flown across the room from his snarling jaws.
‘I need to take the day off, John.’
‘Why?’ His titanium grey eyes snapped up to meet
mine, bathing me in disapproval.
‘I need you here,’ he muttered stubbornly.
‘I’ve already completed all of my deadlines for
the week, I have no clients to see today and if anything comes in this
afternoon I’ll get Natasha to email it over and work on it this weekend.’ I
held his gaze, no way was I backing down, I hadn’t had a day off in four months
and I’d learned with John never to ask, you told him what you wanted and he
respected you all the more for it.
‘You’d better work all bloody weekend if something
comes in,’ he snapped.
‘I’ve never let you down before,’ I reminded him.
‘Fine,’ he relented. ‘Where the hell’s Natasha? I
need my coffee.’
‘It’s eight-twenty, she doesn’t start until nine.’
‘What use is that to me? I want her here by eight-thirty
‘You pay her nine to five, John,’ I replied,
fighting the urge to roll my eyes. ‘You’d need to discuss that with HR and see
if Natasha’s prepared to do more hours.’
‘Jesus Christ, what happened to working the hours
needed to get the job done? Fine, get me a coffee and you can go,’ he sighed as
he looked back down at the papers on his desk. I gave in and rolled my eyes,
failing to point out that I was only paid from nine as well, and given that he’d
just agreed for me to take the day off, I was actually free to leave. Instead I
thought of how much more irritable he’d be without his caffeine fix and decided
to spare Natasha the receptionist even more aggro when she walked through the
I stepped out to the crisp December morning and
stood on the pavement outside our office building, looking left and right as I
tried to formulate a plan of action.
I spent the morning being preened and polished
with a haircut, a mani-pedi and facial, a leg, underarm and bikini wax, then
went to Harrods and treated myself to a glass of champagne and some oysters for
lunch. I’d need as much help as I could bump starting my libido for Zac again.
I purchased a new pair of sexy gold strapped high heeled sandals and a halter-neck
cream and gold sleeveless maxi dress, with a revealing side slit and cleavage enhancing
‘Afternoon Miss Baxter, you’re home early,’ called
Harry the security guard, from his position behind the desk in the lobby of our
‘I fancied a day off, to prepare a surprise for
Zac,’ I smiled. He pulled a knowing face as he nodded and I saw the hint of a
frown. ‘Is everything ok, Harry?’
‘I can’t complain, Miss Baxter,’ he smiled as he
rose and strode to the lift doors and pressed the button for me, obviously
sensing that given all of the bags in my hands I’d find it difficult.
‘You’re so kind, thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He reached into the lift and
pressed the button to the Penthouse for me.
‘See you soon, Harry.’ I smiled at him as the
doors closed and the lift trembled its way up to the top floor. I had quite a
feat to hold my bags in one hand as I used the other to turn the key in the
lock and was surprised to see Zac’s briefcase in the hall. I dumped my bags and
headed into the open plan living room and kitchen, where there was no sign of
life, except for a bottle of nearly empty champagne sitting on the island.
I thought. It wasn’t like Zac to be home at this time, unless he was
ill. But if he was unwell what was he doing drinking a bottle of champagne? I
walked over to our bedroom and opened the door, and took in a sharp, shocked,
inhalation of air as I looked at the scene in front of me.
Zac was naked, pounding the hell out of some
brunette from behind, while she had her face buried between a blonde’s legs,
who in turn was eating her out. Zac must’ve heard my gasp and looked around and
his face went pale as he saw me standing there, not quite able to believe what
I was seeing. It was car crash TV, I knew I shouldn’t be looking, but my stupid
eyes wouldn’t look away. At least he had the good grace to stop fucking her
immediately, that was something I supposed.
Ellie! You were supposed to be
at work,’ he groaned and the girls stopped their munching and one of them
‘O I’m sorry Zac, how rude of me to come back to
my own house during the day and interrupt your threesome! I should’ve checked
that you’d pencilled into your diary “
Cheat on Ellie in our bed”
have known to stay out of the way and give you some privacy. My apologies for
the inconvenience, please carry on, enjoy your orgasms.’ I turned and slammed
the door, marched to the kitchen and drank some of the dregs of champagne from
the bottle. I idly ran my finger over the worktop which had white flour all
over it, odd given Zac didn’t even know how to cook. My hands were visibly
shaking, but what was more shocking was the fact that I was more upset that he
was fucking other women in our
, my favourite, comfiest place in the entire
apartment, rather than him actually fucking other women. I put the bottle back
to my lips as the bedroom door swung open and he appeared bare chested
buttoning up his jeans.
‘Fuck El, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over
‘Two whores by the looks of it, I can smell them
all over you from here. Get them out right now, or so help me God I’ll drag
them out by the hair,’ I warned.
‘They’re going. Please don’t be mad with me,
‘Don’t you dare “
” me, and don’t be
mad with you?! You haven’t touched me in
Zac, then you bring home
two women to fuck in
bed behind my back? I knew we were having a
rough time, but Jesus …’ I shook my head and pinched the top of my nose as I
leaned back against the kitchen worktop.
‘El, I love you, but you don’t understand how
tough it’s been for me lately at work. I’ve lost a fortune and my clients are
out for my blood. I needed to blow off some steam.’
‘You couldn’t have talked to me or blown it off
with me? What did those two woman have that I didn’t? We’re