Carnal Indulgence (Desiring the Forbidden Book 3) (3 page)

Who does that?

Avoiding it was just too damn logical. Personally, she liked the slate and thought the silver was just a tad too bright. She tried explaining this to him, but he cut her off and said, “You asked me for my opinion. I choose white. The other two look the same, and I don’t want to deal with the confusion.”

Libby had snatched the invitations away from him, stomping out the room, muttering “Idiot” under her breath as she left. She should have known that Maddox, with his keen sense of hearing for anything naughty, wouldn’t miss the derogatory word.

“Come back here, Elizabeth.”

That had been her first clue. She should have noted that he’d used her formal name and not “Libby.” Should have known that she was skating on thin ice, and gone to him apologetically, sweetly asking for forgiveness.

Instead, looking back, she had sealed her fate with her reaction. Libby had spun on her high heels, stomping toward him, pounding her feet on the hardwood floors, tossing the invitations back onto the table in front of him. “How can you
not
know the difference between slate and silver? I mean you’re a damn professor, aren’t you? The question isn’t difficult, Daddy, just choose.”

He’d quickly risen from his chair, pinching her chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess the professors at UCLA didn’t think it was necessary to assure that every professor understood the nuances between the varying shades of gray. However, you what I have learned, Miss Libby?”

Libby shook her head, feeling butterflies in her belly.

“I’ve learned—as you know, Missy—the varying shades of pink and red.” He raised his eyebrows at her, letting the phrase sink in. And sink in it did. “I think I’d like to give you a demonstration. Then tomorrow, when you’re calm and rational, we’ll discuss invitations again.”

Libby had swallowed, knowing she’d gone too far from the quiet, steely tone of his voice. She’d learned the hard way over the past four years, to take heed when he spoke to her in this manner. “Yes, Daddy.”

Just as Daddy had promised, this morning before they each left for work, he’d pulled out the invitations again, and they rationally discussed the colors. After looking at them again, calmly, in the light of day, the white lace seemed the most appropriate. Once again, Daddy was right.

***

Libby walked into the coffee shop, looking around for her ex-husband, Jeff. The dimly lit room smelled of old books showcasing hundreds in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. There were old church pews with matching dark wood tables. Libby enjoyed the old library feel, and the artsy addition of benches just made it cozier in her mind. The windows had burgundy Roman shades that added to the austere look.

She grabbed a small table that had a regular chair on one side and a pew up against the wall on the other, looking around the room she didn’t spot Jeff. He didn’t seem to be there yet; she quickly pulled out her phone to check the time. She was early—almost ten minutes early—another skill she had learned, thanks to her Daddy. When Libby met Maddox, she thought being on time meant anything up to twenty minutes beyond the scheduled appointment. It didn’t take Daddy long to handle that situation with some firm reminders—and lingering pain—ultimately, she found the incentive to arrive not only on time but early.

She walked to the counter placing her order for a small sandwich for Jeff and herself to split while they talked.

Libby had barely draped her coat on the back of the chair when Jeff walked in, waving hello. “I got us a sandwich, just get your coffee.”

She watched Jeff at the counter; he looked older now than even just a couple years ago. At almost fifty, his hair was becoming more gray than brown, and the years were evident on his face. He didn’t look haggard or awful, just…looked his age. She had the same feeling when she looked in the mirror. No matter how hard she tried with all the lotions and dyes available, life left its marks—laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, graying at the temples and roots, aches and pains that caused a stoop of the shoulders or slight limp to her walk some days—there was no denying getting older. No matter how hard you tried to cover it up, it pushed its way through.

In the seven years since they had separated and divorced, there had been many obstacles, but Elizabeth and Jeff had decided that getting along and doing what was best for the kids would be their goal. For the most part, they had succeeded.

At first, Jeff had been livid that she was dating someone who was at the time twenty-six—he didn’t think it was appropriate and sent a wrong message to the kids. At Maddox’s suggestion, they had met on neutral ground, and the men had gotten along very well. Jeff still didn’t like that she’d decided to date someone fifteen years younger than she, but he couldn’t find fault with how Maddox treated her or the kids. Jeff would be amazed if he knew the number of times Daddy had paddled her or forced her to call her ex-husband to “do the right thing” and to behave.

Her ex-husband’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “You didn’t have to buy us a sandwich. I could’ve done that.” Jeff took his black dress coat off, draping it over the back of the chair. “Damn fall rains; we’re just not used to it. I swear no one knows how to drive; you’d never know it happens every year.”

She laughed. It was so true. Southern Californians freaked when it rained; there were more accidents and bumper-to-bumper traffic everywhere. “I know. Thank God, it’s not snowing. Can you imagine? And, as for the food, I can’t eat in front of you without making sure you had something to eat too. I’m starving and don’t want to delay eating.”

Libby took the flimsy plastic knife and cut it in half, putting his half on a napkin and sliding the smoked ham and Gouda sandwich over to him.

“So are the kids okay? Things going all right with Alex?” Jeff took a long sip of his latte, from the heavy white mug before taking a bite from the grilled Panini.

“Oh, yes. Alex is adjusting well; she’s happy at Santa Monica College. I would’ve called if there were any problems, you know that. And Brandon has applied to UCLA. Maddox is pulling some strings for him, not that he needs the help, but it doesn’t hurt. You know?”

“That’s helpful of Maddox. No, he doesn’t need help, but getting any help is never a bad thing. Thank him for me.” He put the sandwich down, wiping his hands on a napkin. “So if the kids are okay, what’s up?”

Libby lightly skimmed her finger around the edge of the coffee cup, trying to find the best way to start this conversation, finally deciding to plunge ahead. “Maddox and I are engaged. We’re hoping to be married in October…of this year.” She thrust her hand out showing him her engagement ring, which in her opinion was just beautiful—a one carat round diamond on a simple band, nothing flashy, nothing overt. Her Daddy knew her well, knew her interests were more for the traditional and plain.

Jeff’s face turned red, his eyebrows furrowing. He grasped her hand, looking closely at the ring under his nose. “This October? That’s soon Lizzy. Are you sure this is a good idea? God, the age difference between you two is ridiculous! I mean, when he’s fifty—like I’m going to be this year—you’ll be sixty-five, getting ready for your retirement. It’s harder for a woman to keep a younger guy happy, you know? Are you up to the task?”

She hated the nickname “Lizzy,” and he knew it. But Jeff used it to set her off whenever possible. Libby felt herself losing control of her emotions, but took a deep breath. Daddy would be proud that she remembered to pause, gathering her thoughts, and not fly off the handle. She’d have to tell him later what a good girl she’d been.

“Jeffrey, you know that age isn’t an issue for us, but it’s always been an issue for you, and for that I’m sorry. Don’t throw your concerns onto me; it’s not fair. And let me point out, there is no need for sexual enhancement drugs for women; usually it’s only the men that need those. I bet I can still run circles around you with my need for orgasms; I have no doubt. Don’t be unhappy because I found someone who can take care of my needs.”

She had thrown down the gauntlet, and no doubt, he’d be picking it up. She knew it was a low blow, but he referenced her age. When that happened, she came out clawing.

Jeff’s face flushed with anger, a vein popping on his forehead before he spoke through gritted teeth. “You had no complaints about our sex life when we were together.” He scanned the room quickly; she assumed checking to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation, before he continued. “I have no doubt that wonder-boy can keep up with you. I just think you're being hasty with this decision to marry him. Why not wait until you get closer to fifty, to see if he still wants to be with someone who’s older. He may change his mind once he starts approaching forty.”

He knew her weaknesses. Jeffrey knew she worried about Maddox leaving. “He’s not going to tire of me. That was your issue, not his. Don’t project your concerns onto our relationship, Jeffrey. The kids are happy for us; and they’re actually looking forward to this wedding and being part of it. It’s your decision how you react to this, but rest assured, we’re not changing our plans based on your reaction.”

His eyes narrowed, his stare bore into her. Before continuing, Jeff took a deep breath. “I’ll support you in this. The kids are my concern, and if they’re happy, then I’m happy. Besides, they’re both going to be adults soon here, going away to college and leaving home. I won’t even be involved in your life that much longer. Once they’re done with college, my contact with you and Maddox will be minimal—if at all.”

He reached across the table and grasped her hand, looking at her ring, again. “Be happy, Elizabeth. Tell Maddox I said congratulations.”

Just like that, everything was fine. What a difference a few years makes in how people relate to each other. “Thank you, Jeff. I’ll let him know.”

He quickly rose, grabbing his jacket. “I need to get home. I have a phone conference in an hour. Tell Alex I said ‘hi,’ and let Brandon know that I’ll be at his game Friday, and we can go out for pizza after.”

“I will. Have a good night.” She stood up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “And thank you for being okay with this. It helps.”

Jeff smiled at her, staring a little longer than normal before saying, “You’re welcome. I just want you to be happy.” He quickly pivoted walking out the door.

An odd melancholy came over her. She wondered if she’d ever recover from Jeffrey. She didn’t love him anymore…well, not in the way lovers do…but she loved him like an old friend. He was an old friend who shared in the birth of her two children, old friends who shared in the joys and sorrows of their children. Some days it seemed surreal that she’d been married to this man, and shared over twenty years together. Yet, she couldn’t imagine life without him. She’d grown used to the contact, the friendship. It seemed odd to hear him say that their” contact would be minimal, but it had been something she’d looked forward to many days. The less contact, the better had been her mantra for years.

Soul ties. That’s what they called it—a connection of the soul, either through marriage or sex—something that held people together for a lifetime. No matter how far away or how long it’s been since you’ve seen them, there is an internal association between two people. She’d always have a tie with Jeffrey, something that made them stay friends—and it went past children and grandchildren.

Libby stood, pulling her jacket on. Her Daddy would be proud. She handled herself well, not losing her temper or fighting; they stayed calm and rational. Now that those obstacles were out of the way, they would move forward with the wedding plans.

As Libby’s heels clicked on the sidewalk back to her car, the light rain pitter-pattering on the hood of her coat, she pondered what Jeffrey had said about Maddox tiring of her when he hit forty.

Isn’t that when men hit their mid-life crisis?

Maybe she should wait to marry him. Would it be wise to give him time? After all, she wanted Maddox to be happy, and maybe she wasn’t what he needed?

T
he Playpen was busy tonight, more energetic than normal. It was the Harvest Moon festival with the place decorated in glowing white lights with blue streamers and blue lights everywhere. Maddox left Libby at a table with Logan and Belle, while he went to talk with Ivan about business matters. Libby didn’t’ really care for Belle; she was much younger than Libby. Belle leaned toward the bratty, sassy side, which Logan seemed to love, but it bothered Libby and set Maddox on edge.

Maddox preferred quieter, more obedient subs, but during the years, he had learned tolerance for all personality types, and as he’d told her on occasion, some littles made it harder to control his emotions than others.

Libby tried to carry on a casual conversation with Belle, discussing the weather and whatnot, but things went afoul when Belle excitedly decided to push what she should and should not do for her wedding.

“Belle, I’ve been married before. Maddox and I have discussed this at great length, and we’re pretty clear on what we want already, but thank you for your suggestions.”

I need an award—a long orgasm—for tolerating this girl. Why would he leave me alone with her and Logan?