The Private Serials Box Set (19 page)

BOOK: The Private Serials Box Set
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 I gasped, still sensitive from the orgasm I hadn’t fully recovered from, and he cursed, all manner of four-letter words falling from his mouth.

 “Fuck me, Lena. Shit. I love your pussy. Damn.” Each word toppled from his mouth, was grunted out with gasping breaths.

 I couldn’t respond with more than a groan, still reeling from my climax, but I reached back to squeeze his thigh, hoping that relayed my mirrored appreciation. This wasn’t flowery. It wasn’t the sweet lovemaking we’d already had; this was rough, primal, and entirely base. It was dirty. It was hot.

 Even though he caught me off guard, I still felt myself falling into the role, needing to participate. I started by gently moving my hips back to meet his thrusts, trying to match his rhythm. When my ass connected with his hips, we both cried out. My fingers dug into the arm of the couch, both from the bliss spiraling through me and trying to find purchase on something to keep me upright while I used my body to help Preston find his climax. I used the couch to push myself back onto him again, this time crying out from the new depths he reached inside of me.

 “Christ, Lena,” he growled.

 We kept pace, each of us working to find that cliff we could both dive off together. His hands moved around my body, holding on to different parts, trying to get even deeper still. He gripped my hips, pulling me backward. One hand moved to my shoulder, gripping me, forcing me on to him.  He even wound his hand through my hair, holding it firmly at its roots. That single act, feeling his hand woven through the length, using it to bring himself gratification, it was possibly the most erotic moment of my life – the most sexually fulfilling experience. It wasn’t intimate – I couldn’t even see his face – but it was. Weirdly so, in fact. His hands on me, my need to feel him in the deepest part of me possible; it screamed intimacy. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I didn’t need to in order to know what they looked like in that moment. They’d be dark and glassy, and they’d be focused on me.

 His speed picked up and I worked to match him. When I felt him grow even harder inside me, when I heard his breaths speed up, then stop all together, I knew he was close. I pushed my ass back toward him again, but when I felt him seated in me fully, I added a swivel to my hips and ground back onto him.

 He groaned, expelling his breath, but picked up his speed even more, keeping a punishing pace.

 We continued this pattern a few more times, each thrust pushing both of us up that hill, until finally I found my release, only spurred on by the sound of his. His loud grunt coupled with a guttural moan was all I needed to follow him into bliss.

 

 

Chapter Six

 I woke the next morning to my alarm with no arms wound around me, no warmth enveloping me, and no Preston to be found in the bed. I opened my eyes and listened for the shower, but heard nothing. Rolling onto my back, images of the night before flashed through my mind. Preston’s ankles spreading my legs. His hands touching every part of my body. His mouth. I rolled back over and groaned into the pillow.

 I was in trouble.

 Every part of my body was sore from use. Sore from enjoyment. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it, didn’t love feeling as if every time I moved for the rest of the day I’d feel a reminder that Preston was deep inside me the night before. That he’d used my body to make himself come. That he’d brought me to my peak over and over again.

 I was definitely in trouble.

 I managed to climb out of bed and head to the bathroom, each slightly painful step another reminder. I hoped a hot shower would loosen me up, bring me a little relief. I found a note on the bathroom counter and I smiled as I picked it up.

 
You looked so beautiful sleeping, and so tired, too. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Please make yourself at home. There’s coffee in the kitchen and some fruit or muffins for breakfast. Your keys are on the counter in the kitchen, and your car is parked out front. I expect you to come home to me tonight. I’ll be waiting.

 I smiled because he had thought of everything. My smile never left until I found myself at my desk, trying to focus on a job that was quickly losing its appeal. I’d taken this job because it allowed me to use my business degree and because it was close to home. Derrek’s company had also done work with the company I worked for, so it seemed like a good fit when I’d started right out of college. I’d worked hard, climbed the ladder, made strides, but with everything in my life up in the air, I found it difficult to harness the drive to do the work I was tasked with.

 My phone buzzed in my top drawer and I pulled it out to find a text from Sam.

**Still on for lunch today?**

 I typed my response immediately.

**Definitely. Want to meet at the food trucks?**

**Sounds great! See you there!**

 
When I came upon Sam at the food truck driveway, a smile took over my face and my cheeks bunched up for the first time since I left Preston’s house. I walked toward her with open arms and she opened hers to me and took me in, just like she always did. We hugged and then backed away from each other, but her hands never left my shoulders.

 “You okay?” she asked, her face strained with concern, a large wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

 I nodded and smiled sincerely. “Nothing a plate of noodles won’t fix.” She turned to stand next to me and threaded her arm through the crook of my elbow, propelling me toward our favorite Yaki Soba noodle truck.

 “I’ve been craving these damn noodles, too.”

 We grabbed our plates and found an open table, sitting across from one another.

 “All right, woman. I think I’ve been more than patient. Now it’s time to spill. What’s going on?”

 I took a deep breath in and then thought about where in the world I was supposed to start my story. I decided that perhaps the best place was the beginning.

 “Friday night I went with Derrek to a charity gala.” I hadn’t even gotten through an entire sentence before Sam started making fake gagging noises. I smiled at her open disgust for my husband. “Everything was fine until he introduced me to his mistress.” I paused for dramatic effect.

 “He. Didn’t.” Sam said, noodles suspended in midair, halfway to her mouth.

 “He did. Her name is Jessica Fahey, and she most definitely knew I was her boyfriend’s wife. She loathed me.” I shrugged. “Honestly, it was kind of fun meeting her, because I totally got to fuck with her. I even asked her if she wanted to try on my wedding ring.”

 “You. Didn’t.”

 “I did,” I said with a smile. “Anyway, I was a little pissed off he’d been so brazen and practically shoved his mistress in my face, and when I excused myself to go to the restroom, Preston pulled me into a closet.”

 Sam’s eyes widened, but her fork continued to her mouth. “Then what happened?” she asked around the noodles in her mouth.

 “Things of a sexual nature.” My eyes drifted down to the fork twirling on my plate and I could feel my face start to heat.

 “No!” She gasped.

 I went on to tell her all the sordid and fantastic details of our weekend together, giving her the specifics a woman only shares with her best friend. The kind of toe-curling details one has to make sure no one else is eavesdropping on. The particulars which made Sam fan herself with her napkin. Details that made us both blush, that made me ache to get back to Preston even more.

 “Shit,” was Sam’s response.

 “Indeed.”

 “Okay, so why did Derrek call me yesterday and freak out on me?”

 My face fell as my mind fluttered to what had happened in the shower. “Derrek knows I never came home over the weekend and I needed an alibi. I told him I was with you.” I looked up to meet her eyes, which were filling with rage as she put two and two together. “Thank you for covering for me.”

 “What did he do to you?”

 I shook my head. “Nothing like you’re thinking. He was just angry. I managed to get away. Preston won’t let me go back.”

 “Good for him,” she said firmly. “Even if he hadn’t fucked you senseless all weekend I’d like him.” All I could do was nod in agreement. “So what’s the plan, then?”

 “He said I’m not to go back to my house.  He packed a bag for me and brought all my stuff to his house, and he says he’s going to find a way to prove Derrek’s cheating. He’s on a mission, it would seem.”

 “Well, Jesus. I wonder why the hell it’s taking so long.”

 We were both startled by the sound of my phone ringing in my purse. I saw it was Preston and answered with a smile.

 “Hey,” I said sweetly.

 “Hey, babe. You busy?”

 “Just having lunch with Sam.”

 “Well, I have news. But it’s bad news, unfortunately. I was looking into Derrek’s bank accounts, hoping to find some trail between him and Jessica. I found the accounts he has with you, but I couldn’t find any others. I thought that was strange, considering how much money the company makes. I expected IRAs or 401Ks, investment accounts – anything. But I found nothing.”

 “So, you’re saying he doesn’t have an account with her?”

 “Right. But there’s more.”

 “Great,” I said with mock enthusiasm.

 “Since I couldn’t find another account for him, I started looking into yours. You have hardly any money, Lena.”

 My brow furrowed in confusion. “That’s not true. There’s money in there.”

 “There
was
money in there. When’s the last time you checked your balance?”

 “Uh, a while ago,” I stammered. Sam’s face became worried and she stopped eating her noodles.

 “Well,
a while ago
, Derrek started moving money directly from your savings account into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands. But this started a really long time ago. Nearly five years ago.”

 “What?”

 “Yes. He’s slowly been siphoning all your money out of the bank. But, I’ll give you three guesses as to whose name is on the account I found in the Caymans.”

 “Jessica,” I seethed.

 “You’re not only sexy as hell, but you’re sharp as a tack, sweetheart.”

 “So he’s taking my money and putting it in an account for
her
? That asshole.”

 “I don’t know what he’s planning based on what happened yesterday, but if I were you, I’d get to the bank and open a new account. Get what you can into a new account with just your name on it.”

 “How much money is in the offshore account, Preston?”

 “Lena, just go to your bank, please?”

 “Tell me. I deserve to know what he’s giving to his whore.”

 “Baby,” he whispered, sounding like he was in pain. No, that wasn’t all of it. He sounded like he was in pain because
I
was in pain.

 “Okay,” I whispered back, just wanting to hang up the phone and deal with it. “I’ll see you after work.”

 “Drive straight to my house afterward. I’ll be waiting for you there.”

 “Okay,” I said again, not able to find any other words to give to him in that moment. I heard his phone disconnect and sighed as I put my phone back in my purse. I looked up to Sam and instead of feeling sadness or shock at what was going on, I was a little annoyed. “Derrek’s stealing all our money and giving it to Jessica.”

 “Excuse me?” Sam said, coughing on her diet Coke.

 “Yeah. I’m living in a real-life movie. Derrek is transferring all our money into – get this – off-shore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Like he’s in the mob or something.” Annoyance was slowly making room for anger. “Derrek is a trust fund baby who wouldn’t know the dangerous side of a gun if it was pointing at his forehead. Who the hell does he think he is, trying to be all James Bond with our money?”

 I stabbed at my noodles, taking out my rage on my undeserving lunch. Sam and I finished eating and she walked me to my car.

 “Do you want me to go with you?” She looked concerned, her eyebrows raised, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

 “No,” I say calmly, shaking my head while looking at the ground. This was slightly embarrassing. It was hard for me to imagine the way I must seem to Derrek. He must have thought me the most moronic, gullible, idiotic person alive. He probably laughed at me with Jessica behind my back. Every time he made a transfer from our accounts into hers. I could picture them, sitting on a cozy couch, her snuggled into his side, a fire roaring in the fireplace of their sin shack of a house. They were both holding flutes filled with champagne and a thoroughly trained golden retriever rested at their feet. Perfect.

 “I just want this all to be over,” I say with a sigh. “I don’t want to keep feeling like the last seven years has been one, big, elaborate joke.” Sam pulls me into a hug, but I don’t move to hug her back. I just lean against her, taking the support she’s offering. After a few moments, I pulled away and rubbed the crease I knew appeared between my eyebrows when I was stressed, struggling to keep my composure. “I have to go to the bank.”

 “You’re going to go now?” She twisted her wrist to look at her watch. “Don’t you have to go back to work?”

 I shrugged.  “I honestly feel like work is part of the charade I’ve been living. Whenever I’m there I feel useless and unhappy.” I take in a deep breath. “It’s hard for me to feel like I belong anywhere right now.”

 “I hate to bring up the obvious, even more so as it’s bad news, but if you leave Derrek and you have nothing, you’re going to need that job, Lena.”

 Shit. She was right. I exhaled, trying not to let tears escape with my breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” I squared my shoulders and stood up straight. “I just need to evaluate what’s important right now.”

 “Keep your eye on the end, okay? There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. This won’t go on forever. Hopefully Preston will find what you’re looking for.”

 “Here’s hoping,” I said as I gave her the weakest smile I could manage.

 We parted ways and I decided to go back to work, taking Sam’s words to heart. She was right: I would need my job when all this was over. I’d be a divorced woman and I’d need to provide for myself.

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