And Then There Were Three

Cover Art by EngimaGraphics
© 2014

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to all the unusual
adult couples who have based their relationships on love, not
society!

Other Books By Renee Lindemann

Gemini Book 1

Gemini Book 2

The Dark Closet Volume 1

The Dark Closet Volume 2

Deporting Dominic

Available on Amazon…

And Then There Were Three…

Segment 1
The Beginning

Segment 2
The Marriage

Segment 3
The Introduction

Segment 4
The Drama

Segment 5
The Proposal/ Wedding

Segment 6
About the Author

I
am writing this
to tell my, well I guess it is more like our side of the story. My
name is Eva Thompson and my husband’s name is Mark Thompson. We
have been married sixteen blissful years. There was that one-year
where we were both contemplating extramarital affairs. Thankfully
we both realized the devastating effects this would have on our
lives and the lives of our children. Neither of us went through
with the affairs, instead we refocused on the love and passion. It
has been smooth sailing every since, well at least up until last
year that is. I work as a romance novelist, under a pen name of
course. The books I write have found a very loyal audience. This
gives me the creative freedom to work from home and provide care to
my three children.

My three children are: Sabrina (15), Mark Jr.
(13), and Celeste (9). My husband, Mark is a partner in an
architecture firm. My husband is an amazing man. I need to clear
that misconception up right now. I have never been disappointed in
any way with my husband. He has always been very kind, an excellent
father, and a wonderful companion. I will always know that I struck
gold when I met him and platinum when I married him. I love him
more than I can convey in words. We have a very vibrant sex life,
contrary to what has been said or whispered. There was nothing
wrong with our marriage before last year. We learned that we had so
much love to give and we eventually found someone worthy of
receiving that love.

In this short novella I will give you the
background on how my family went from a family of five to a family
of six, without the birth of a child. I will break this short
novella into six segments. So many people have asked me how we
could have done this to our family. Others think that our marriage
was marred to begin with. A few others have suggested that we are
just perverts. I will explain and dispel the crazy myths. I
generally have a flair for detail in my books. I will keep that
trend going in these pages. My goal is to be as honest as humanly
possible.

The Beginning

I absolutely did not
want to attend a Que party on campus however my best friend Shantel
was adamant that we were both going. I didn’t mind the frat parties
on campus but so close to finals unnerved me.

“Shantel, I have finals on Monday,” I whined.
Shantel gave me a look that told me we where going to the party,
finals be damned. I sulked all the way to the party but I was still
dressed very cute in a blue dress. Inside the party I gave all the
guys a hard time, until I stumbled upon Mark. He definitely did not
attend our school. An obvious indicator was his ultra preppie
attire. He was in khaki shorts, short-sleeved button up shirt, a
tie, and loafers. I liked him immediately as he stuck out like a
sore thumb. I hope that you believe that meeting Mark for me was
love at first sight. He was so damn good looking that I could
barely keep my eyes off him the entire time. Eventually he got the
hint and came over to talk to me. We ended up leaving the party an
hour later. Another few hours later he and I were in my room
talking like old friends.

By morning we had engaged in sex about three
times. Our connection was that instantaneous and going to different
schools did little to quell our appetites for each other. We
scheduled our classes so that we would have the same down time. The
sex was unlike anything I had experienced to date. Mark was the
third man I had ever been intimate with and he was so patient with
my inexperience. As my confidence in the bedroom grew, he
introduced me to new heights of pleasure. I know that sounds rather
clichéd to say but it was true. I was such a prude when I met him,
it was a wonder he was even interested in me. Months after we had
become an official couple Mark and I enjoyed lovemaking as our
favorite pastime. I loved the feel of his hands, mouth, or
exceptional manhood on or in me. I wish I could describe the
existential plane with which we made love, had sex, or fucked.
Whatever you want to call it, I experienced it with Mark.

During my junior year we were engaged. Mark
and I were living in a small apartment while he worked as a junior
architect with a local firm. We were married the next year after my
graduation. It was a secret between the two of us that we were
pregnant before the actual wedding. Thankfully Sabrina was a late
baby, so everyone assumed she had been conceived on our honeymoon.
I took a job writing for a local magazine and juggled being a new
wife and new mother. It was fantastic getting to know this new
little person and Mark as a husband.

Within a few years we had Mark Jr. and I was
a published author. I took the time to write during my pregnancy.
My first novel
The Seven Sisters
, opened to moderate
success, considering it was a bit raunchy by most romance novel
standards. I wrote under the pen name Charlotte Abernathy. I
planned to continue writing a new book about the seven sisters
every few years until I decided to do something else. Mark agreed
that I should write full time from home. It gave me the perfect
opportunity to raise our two children. Mark was up for a
partnership in his architecture firm when book number two dropped.
Eventually we settled into married life in a nice starter home.

The Marriage

Anyone who has been truly married knows that
by year five you are fighting to keep all the love and passion from
the previous years from evaporating. Mark and I had two children,
very demanding careers, and lots of passion. It was finding the
time for this passion that proved to be our most difficult
challenge. Often we could be found having a “quickie” in our
laundry room or our Master bathroom. With small children it was
impossible to find an hour to engage in passionate lovemaking. When
the children were sleep we often picked up on whatever work we
missed. After that it was time to sleep so that we could repeat our
day. Top that with an active social life, which included a bevy of
friends and colleagues to entertain. We very rarely had time to
just enjoy the passion still coursing through our blood.

I remember a particularly sensual moment
ending in an embarrassing disaster. One Saturday afternoon we spent
at one of those children’s eateries with the games. After which we
took in a movie before heading home. The kids were out, much to our
delight when we arrived home. We put them to bed and immediately
took this time to engage in some adult activities. Mark ran a bath
in our Jacuzzi bathtub in our private bathroom. We slipped
underneath the mountains of bubbles in a fit of youthful giggles
and sweet kisses. Eventually I took the opportunity to ride my
husband beneath the sudsy water. The noises emanating from our
bathroom could I’m sure be heard by our neighbors. We were so
enjoying the feel of our bodies connected that we lost all sense of
location.

“Turn around,” Mark commanded. I immediately
did as I was told getting on all fours as he took me from behind. I
mewed and cried out as my husband reminded me how much I enjoyed
sex with him. We simultaneously hit our orgasms as both our
children stood in the doorway to our bathroom watching the entire
scene unfold. Even after we realized they were there we could not
stop the sounds. My body continued to grip and release as my
husband tried to stifle his moans of pleasure. We were both frozen,
neither wanting to get out of the tub to talk to the children. I
can still see the shocked expression on Sabrina’s face as Mark Jr.
clutched her shirt, a frightened expression spread over his toddler
face. That night we explained the birds and the bees to a four year
old and our two year old, we assumed, he would just be traumatized.
His level of comprehension was still too underdeveloped to
comprehend our words.

As the children got older, asserting their
independence we found that scheduling time for intimacy was
necessary. It was something that we never wanted to include in our
marriage. Mark and I wanted to keep our love life spontaneous and
fun but alas we found schedule sex to be just as exciting. I loved
going about my day knowing that in however many hours I would be in
my husband’s arms. We found that texting or emailing our intended
actions only intensified our desire. So you see we didn’t have an
issue with sex in our marriage.

After Celeste was born I found myself dealing
with postpartum depression. It was so overwhelming that I could
barely care for my new baby and my other children. For a short time
Mark and I hired a part-time nanny to assist with my day-to-day
chores. During this time Mark spent considerable amounts of time at
the office, unsure of how to deal with my depression. I for the
life of me couldn’t understand what I had to be depressed over. I
had a husband who loved me, three beautiful children, a great
writing career, and a lovely new home built just for me. I pulled
away from social activities preferring the comforts of my home
office and computer.

Andre was an attorney for a major financial
firm that I started to chat with on a regular basis. He had dealt
with postpartum depression with his now ex-wife. It was as if he
had a manual of all the right things to say. I begin to crave my
time chatting with him. I slowly started to pull away from my
husband or did he start to pull away from me first? I cannot really
recall who started it but it happened. He was consumed with being
at the office and I was consumed with being in front of my
computer. Andre and I would chat via webcam when Mark was away.
Andre just knew all the right things to say in regards to my
depression. It began to lift and I attributed that directly to him.
He kept pushing me for a face-to-face and I brushed him off as
gently as I possibly could.

Cleaning out my husband’s Tahoe truck changed
my mind on that face to face. Celeste was in desperate need of her
favorite toy, which had last been seen in the vicinity of the
monster-sized truck. I was pouring through the truck looking for
this teething ring when I came across a gym bag. There were no
basketball shorts, tennis shoes, or even a towel to indicate the
bag was being used for its intended purpose. Inside was a change of
clothes: jeans, casual shirt, and Kenneth Cole loafers. This was
Mark’s standard dress down outfit, generally reserved for going
out. My boiling blood fueled my change of heart in regards to
meeting Andre. I figured if he was out mingling then I should be
out mingling.

Andre was everything he purported to be
online. I cannot and will not demonize him, except to say that he
knew I was a married woman. By all accounts he was a successful,
handsome bachelor looking for real love. I, unfortunate for Andre,
had already found the love of my life and was unable to give him
what he really wanted, me. While sitting for drinks I nervously
droned on hoping he would get bored and leave me sitting at the
bar. I needed an out! I could not cheat on my husband no matter
what he was doing or whom he was doing it with. I had already
crossed many of the cheat lines by getting to know Andre.

“I am sorry Andre. I can’t do this. I really
like you and your understanding of what I was going through was
invaluable. The truth is I really do love my husband and this would
be a huge mistake,” I whispered softly.

“I can see how nervous you are with me, which
surprises me a great deal. I have looked forward to this moment for
months. I really wish the circumstances were different Eva,” he
replied. The defeated look in his eyes made me feel like a
world-class ass for leading him on. I apologized before trying to
make a hasty retreat. Andre grabbed my arm as I headed out the door
pulling me into an embrace. He smelled so damn good! I held firm to
my resolve despite my temporary weakness. When he kissed me it
sealed the deal. This man I had come to have a huge crush on, he
had understood my turmoil, and been my shoulder to cry on. Now with
his lips against mines I felt nothing. Unfortunately for him, he
felt a lot and it was evident on my leg. I pulled away mumbling
more apologies before getting into my car. It took me months to log
on again to that account. The little balloon popped up with a
message:
“You will forever be the one who got away.
Literally!”