Angela Smith

Cameron Montgomery was working outside again and Shannon was sick of it. She came home every night alone while he labored in that damned garage of his. Tinkering with his toys, trying to get this to work, that fixed right. He slaved over everything but their relationship.

Well, she was tired of playing with her toy. She wanted a warm mouth and a hot man. She was young, full of sexual energy. Sure, he worked outside and only a few feet away from the house, but he was always too busy for her. He crawled in bed at midnight and woke before her to get to his real occupation, only to come home and labor in the garage.

Don't tell her to go out there, pay him some attention, strip for him, or anything to get his attention. Be nice even. She'd tried that. It either made him angry or just flat out didn't work.

She jammed the car in park and tore the key out of the ignition. She couldn't even park in the garage because of his big mess. She slammed the door to her beat up Honda—you didn't seem him fixing her things—and stalked pass him.

He wore his cap on backwards. His jeans were torn and scruffy. He never looked better when he was like that, sporting his black t-shirt promoting oil she'd never heard of, arms banded in ropy muscle, chewing on a toothpick while he concentrated.

He never concentrated on her like that.

If he noticed her anger, he didn't comment on it.

She shut the door without greeting him.

He didn't follow her inside. Had she expected him to? Hoped that he would? She threw her car keys across the kitchen counter. They slid and crashed to the floor. She'd regret that later when she couldn't find her keys. It'd be in the morning, when she was hurrying and already running late.

She dropped her purse alongside her keys and huffed to the bathroom. She glanced in the mirror, fingering the split ends of her hair. In desperate need of a trim, her highlights were fading, and she could stand to lose about five pounds, ten if she really looked.

"What's the matter with you?"

Shannon jumped. Cameron stood behind her, his reflection staring at hers through a mirror littered with remnants of toothpaste. She really needed to clean house, but right now she was tired. Tired of her job, tired of cleaning. Tired of being a wife, eating by herself, going to bed alone.

She wanted to be something else for a while. Somebody else.

Maybe she could put on a maid costume and clean. Yeah right, as if that would get his attention. He'd have to be inside to even notice.

She spun around and stepped past him. "Nothing is the matter with me."

He shot out his arm and captured her, heaving her towards him.

Edging his face closer, he scowled. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. She tasted cinnamon on his breath from the gum he liked to chew. Gum and toothpicks, he was always chewing on something except her.

He dropped his grip on her hand, but his face remained inches from hers.

She avoided his eyes. She always got lost in that big bowl of molten chocolate, and she couldn't afford to right now. She'd be lost if she did. Her mind wouldn't be able to function.

Her hands stayed in a straight line against her body. Rigid and unmoving. She inched her chin up. His lips came to her ear. Warmth sizzled out of his mouth and into her, trailing down her spine, buzzing her skin.

"Don't start this," she said, trying not to beg. They hadn't made love in so long. How could she stop him?

"Why are you mad?" he asked again.

"I said I'm not mad."

"Don't play that game."

His tongue shot into her ear. Her knees almost buckled.

She splayed her hands out on his chest and tried to push him away but really, she used his chest as an anchor for her. Otherwise, she'd fall.

He didn't budge.

"Okay," she said a little too softly. A little more compliantly than she would have liked. "You piss me off."

"I know. I always piss you off." This time, his tongue shot into her other ear.

"You don't give me the time of day anymore. You work, and then you go to that damned garage and work until midnight. We've been eating cereal for dinner the past few weeks and you don't even care."

"I care," he said. "I'm just trying to get this car done so we can afford something besides cereal."

This car he spoke of was a side job he was doing for a friend, for extra cash. Yeah, they needed the extra cash, but not if it resulted in divorce in the end.

"You don't care," she repeated. Feeling her lowest always brought out the worst in her. He wouldn't understand, he wouldn't listen, and she missed those special times, the friendship they used to share.

"Oh, bullshit." He wrapped his hands around her butt and squeezed, grinding his pelvis into hers.

The buckle on his jeans shot ribbons of fire through her.

"Anthony asked me out for drinks. He gives me too much attention. Maybe I should accept his offer."

Cameron's eyes narrowed. Stupid move on her part. She had absolutely no desire to have drinks with any man.

"Oh, really?" His fingers squeezed into her ass cheeks harder. Her breath danced up her chest, into her throat. He pushed her backwards until she struck the solid granite of the countertop. He pulled her skirt up and wrapped her legs around him.

"Does Anthony make you wet like this?" Cameron whispered into her mouth.

She opened her mouth, wanting him to kiss her, fighting that need. "Nobody but you makes me wet like this."

She spread her legs wider, begging him to kiss her. He didn't.

He dropped her legs and fell to his knees. He slid his hands up her thighs and pushed her thong away. His tongue traced her thigh, the lips of her pussy and then straight into her.

"Oh, God," she moaned, clasping his hair. Up and down, in and out, she rotated her hips to his beat.

She was on the brink of losing it. She loved to see her husband forceful like this. But her plan, the one that included making him beg, the one that included ignoring him, was going awry.

"You think Anthony would eat you out like that?" Cameron asked as he shot up from the floor.

Shannon shook her head. She tried to grab him, but he pushed her hands away.

He took his time unbuttoning her shirt, tracing his knuckles across her skin, causing her head to spin. Her skirt and panties were next. She saw herself in the mirror, body flushed and ready for sex. Eyes wild, hair disheveled. She looked sexy. She felt sexy, and wore nothing but her lacy white bra.

Thank God for Victoria's Secret.

"Touch yourself," he said.

He cupped her breasts, over her bra, and smoothed his hands down her body. They were like sandpaper, polishing her. It was erotic, the silkiness of her body against the roughness of his. The denim of his jeans pressed against her and she felt his cock, hard, on her ass. She pressed towards him, slightly, teasing him.

"Play with yourself, and watch," he said into her ear.

She razed her fingers across her body, taking it slow, making a show for him in the mirror. She felt bristles of heat as he nipped her, across the shoulder, up to her ear, down her neck. Hips swaying, she bunched her breasts together, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Slowly, methodically, she trailed her finger into her wet heat.

Sticky. Warm. Smooth. She arched her head back to land on Cameron's muscular shoulder, and cried out.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"Yes."

He placed his hands on either side of her hips, moving her against the tightness of his jeans while he brought her finger up to his lips, tasting her. Their eyes locked in the mirror.

He thrust his finger into her, and then brought it to her mouth.

"Taste."

She tasted. Sex and grease. Sweat and man. There was something erotic about it. He didn't smell like GQ, but the essence of this man should be marketed.

He pulled himself away, tearing off his shirt, shoes, jeans and boxers, and stood naked behind her. He was so hard and ready for her.

Now, she could stop. Tease him. Make him want it until he couldn't take it anymore. Make him beg for her as if he'd never have her again. It'd be pleasurable for awhile, but she couldn't hold herself back. She wanted him inside her, and she wanted it now.

She shoved her ass out, steadied herself on the counter with her forearms, and wiggled.

He was just about to enter her pussy from behind when she moved away.

"I don't think so," she sing-songed.

* * * *

Cameron followed Shannon into the kitchen, his cock still hard. Okay, so he knew he'd been ignoring her lately. Not ignoring, exactly, just working extra hard. Not giving her the attention she needed. But he wanted their life to be easier than his parents. Than her parents, who continued to struggle to this day. And he knew he wasn't doing such a good job of it right now. He did restorations for a living, working on cars, working in hot, sweaty shops. Making okay money sometimes, but it was like a rollercoaster, depending on the economy. He wanted more for her. He wanted to give her more. He didn't want to live in this run-down shack of a house for the rest of his life.

She worked in an advertising office, with high-end CEO lords. He could never compare to that. Instead of trying, he hid himself, deeper, into his work. That only pushed her away, he knew, but he still did it.

She worked with men in suits and tidy fingernails. Grease was permanently etched in his.

He shoved both hands in his hair. What in the hell was he doing? He hadn't given her the children she asked for. He hadn't given her the time of day in the last few weeks. She was a beautiful woman, and he was pushing her away. What was wrong with him?

Was he testing her? Pushing her away to see if she'd stay? Trying to find out how much she loved him? If so, he'd be the one to fail, because he loved her so damned much and didn't want to lose her.

He would if he kept this up.

"So this Anthony guy," Cameron asked as he strolled to the counter, resting his forearms on the granite top. Shannon opened cabinets, making herself busy, looking like she was about to cook. He didn't want food, he wanted her.

He grabbed her hands and drew her into him. "What's he look like?" he asked, though he knew. He'd met him before, but he wanted to know what his wife thought of him.

"Not like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not interested in Anthony. I'm interested in my husband, but we don't do anything together anymore but fight, and I'm starting to wonder if he loves me."

"I love you."

"You have a bad way of showing it."

Yeah, he did. He always thought working, making money for his wife, was showing his love. Apparently she didn't see it that way.

"How about this?" he asked as he thrust his cock alongside her pelvis.

Shannon laughed. "You lust me?"

"Oh yeah, baby, I lust you a lot."

She stepped back, smiling. Her eyes gleamed as she continued to retreat. He strode forward. So she wanted to play that game, did she?

She laughed, and took off running. She wore only her bra. He reached his hand out and grabbed the back of it, stopping her. She shrieked.

He pulled her in by the back strap of her bra, turned her around, and pressed her into the wall. "I wanna fuck you."

He removed the lace that covered up those beautiful tits and took a nipple in his mouth. She stopped wiggling.

His tongue caressed her skin, so sweet with that lotion she put on every morning. Something with brown sugar in the name.

"You have to beg first," she said.

"Oh yeah?" he asked.

He plunged his tongue into her mouth and kissed her, hard, soft, and everywhere in between. He brought her right leg around him and placed his cock against her pussy. He didn't enter her, only moved his hips against her. It drove him mad, but if she wanted him to beg, so be it.

"I'm begging," he said in her mouth.

She arched her head back. He let her leg fall. He stepped back.

She opened her eyes, wide with surprise. He continued inching backwards. She'd be the one begging tonight.

The phone rang.

"Fuck," he said. "Don't answer that."

She smiled, turned away, and answered the phone.

"Charlotte, hi. No, I'm not busy. What's up?"

Cameron groaned. Charlotte was Shannon's best friend, and she hated him.

He stepped towards Shannon and thrust his cock against her ass. He shoved her forward, her elbows fell to the table, and he entered her from behind while she talked to Charlotte on the phone.

He stroked his hand on her clit as he dove in and out of her.

"Actually," she said, breathlessly, "I am a little busy. I'll call you back later."

* * * *

Shannon bid her goodbyes to her coworkers and stepped outside. Friday night, and she finally had plans to do something besides go home. Cameron was taking her out to dinner, a movie, and they might stop off at a hole in the wall hotel afterwards.

She'd threatened him again. She hated to do it, but she was getting so close to leaving. She wanted more out of life. Didn't he understand that money wasn't everything to her? She didn't have it growing up, why should she have it now? She was perfectly happy making ends meet from paycheck to paycheck, as long as they could afford some alone time every now and again. Even if they could afford it, they didn't do anything, so what difference did it make whether or not they had money?

She'd talked to her best friend, Charlotte, about her problems. Charlotte had offered her a place to stay if necessary. She loved Charlotte in her own special way, but didn't want to leave Cameron.

She and Charlotte had experienced each other one night, many years ago, in college. To this day, they didn't feel awkward together, but they both knew they preferred the company of men, not women.

Although at times, Shannon wondered.

She drove up to the house with a smile on her face. She'd take a quick shower and they'd go out to eat. She would wear her slinky black dress. The one that didn't need anything else.

Afterwards, who knew what would happen.

The lights in the garage blazed. Cameron was knelt on the ground, tinkering with something on his current project.

Her heart pounded in her throat, threatening to burst out of her and explode into tears. Not this again. She would not do this again. He was not going to come inside the house and think he could make it all better with sex. Make love to her, then go back outside and work. Apologize, leave her with an orgasm, and then continue doing the same damn thing.

It wasn't going to happen.

* * * *

Cameron swiped the grease from his hands on a cloth and used his air compressor to blow the dust from his clothes.

He'd seen Charlotte go into his house, and knew he was in deep trouble. Charlotte hated him, and if she was here, there was only one reason. Shannon was pissed at him again.

He'd promised to take her out tonight, and planned to. They had plenty of time. He didn't expect to go right after work and figured he'd finish some things up before she made it home. They would shower together and get ready.

Or so he thought. Shannon hadn't even stopped by to say hello when she got home. Hell, he didn't even know she was home until he heard Charlotte's car pull up and saw Shannon's parked in the usual spot.

Shannon was getting grumpier, accusing him of spending too much time in the garage and not enough time with her. Well hell, he was trying to make ends meet, trying to supply a better life for her. What did she expect of him? At least he came home at night. At least he didn't go out partying with the boys every night.

At least he didn't cheat on her. She accused him of cheating on her emotionally, putting more emotion into his cars than he did in her. That was utter bullshit, but if Charlotte was here, he better go inside and makes things right.

Charlotte didn't like him. No matter, he didn't like her either. Charlotte was single, and Cameron thought she was a bad influence on Shannon. Charlotte only cared about one thing: partying. She wanted to break them up so she could have Shannon for herself. A party buddy, and no telling what else.

Cameron banged the door closed and glanced around, not knowing what to expect. His shoulders tensed.

Shannon and Charlotte weren't anywhere to be seen. They were probably locked in the bedroom badmouthing him. He washed his hands in the sink, taking his sweet time, and then gulped a cold glass of water, letting it wash the acid tang from his mouth.

He shuffled through the mail. More bills. See, this is why he worked as hard as he did.

He glanced at the closed bedroom door and let the mail fall to the counter. Shannon was probably crying again. Either that or she was fulfilling her threat and packing her clothes. He knew Charlotte had offered her a place to stay. Didn't Shannon know that they'd probably get along better if she'd ditch her best friend? Having Charlotte here wouldn't help his apology. For whatever he was apologizing for. Whatever she wanted him to apologize for, he'd do it.

Cameron ambled to the bedroom door, put his ear up against it, and listened. He didn't hear crying. That was a good sign. He turned the knob and nudged the door open. Shannon and Charlotte weren't there. His heart sunk. Had she already gone?

He gave the closet a fleeting glimpse. Her clothes were still there. Her purse lay atop the bed.

Hearing a cry from the bathroom, he peeked at the door. It was ajar. Shannon was in there.

But where was Charlotte? Had she gone home? Could he be so lucky?

Maybe Shannon wasn't mad at him. Maybe she was getting ready, as he should.

He strolled to the door and tapped it open.

Shannon sat on the bathtub seat, naked, her legs spread wide. Her head rested against the wall, her dark hair sliding across her shoulders, down to her breasts.

Charlotte was knelt in the bathtub, naked herself, her blonde hair falling down her back and across Shannon's legs, hiding his view of Shannon's pussy as she ate her out.

His cock jumped to attention at the scene. His wife was having an affair on him with Charlotte. How long had this been happening under his nose?

He wasn't sure whether to feel mad, betrayed, hurt, or excited. How could he feel anything when his dick was jumping up and saying yes, yes, yes?

Shannon rubbed her hands across her breasts. Cameron clenched his hands in fists.

Charlotte pulled away from his wife. She wiped her mouth and turned to him, glaring. He barely caught it; he was too busy watching his wife.

She was so beautiful. Breasts heaving, body flushed, eyes wide. She closed her legs and stood, ever so slowly.

His heart pounded as she inched forward, stepping over the rim of the tub. She splayed her hands out on his chest. Charlotte came up behind him, heaved her breast against his back, and wrapped her arms around him, sliding hers over Shannon's hands.

Charlotte moved against him, stroking Shannon's hands as Shannon rubbed his chest.

Charlotte pulled away and together, they tore the shirt up over his head. It fell to the floor. Shannon raked her nails down the front of his chest. Charlotte raked hers up his back.

His legs trembled. God, he was furious at Shannon. He loved her so much, and he hated how much this turned him on.

Shannon cupped his balls over his jeans and squeezed. Charlotte brought her hands around and unzipped him. He kicked off his shoes; Charlotte knelt and brushed his socks from his feet. Shannon pulled his pants and boxers away, and his cock sprang free.

Charlotte caressed his leg while Shannon took him into her mouth. Charlotte sidled upwards. He felt her juice on his ass.

He almost fell. He inched backwards until the wall supported his back.

Charlotte stood, walked around and stepped over the rim of the tub. She seated herself on the seat and spread her legs, giving him a clear view of her shaven clit. She stroked her hands across her body. He couldn't tear his eyes away. It was erotic, watching her play with herself while his wife stroked his cock in and out of her sweet, wet mouth.

Charlotte plunged her finger into her pussy while Shannon grabbed his balls. She pulled away from him and he cried out.

He jerked Shannon upright, spun her against the wall, and thrust his cock into her.

He bit her neck, her ear, and ground his hands into her ass. He heard Charlotte cry out, and he came.

* * * *

Charlotte was gone when Cameron disentangled himself from his wife. Thank God. He wasn't sure if he could deal with both of them right now.

Shannon walked away from him and slipped on a robe. She twisted her hair atop her head and secured it with a clip.

He didn't know what to say. What to do. He was angry with her, angry with himself. He glanced at the clock. Damn, he'd made reservations at a nice restaurant, a restaurant it'd take months of hard work to afford, but didn't think they could make it now.

"What the hell was that all about?" Cameron finally asked.

Shannon turned towards him, eyes wide and oh-so-innocent looking. Her silky red robe barely concealed her cleavage. He tore his eyes away.

"How long has that been going on?" he asked.

"That's the first time since college."

"College? You had an affair with her in college?"

Shannon shrugged. "It's not an affair when I'm not dating anyone else."

"You're married to me, now."

"So?" she asked. "You enjoyed it, too."

Cameron bit the inside of his cheek and tasted blood. Yes, he enjoyed it, but he hadn't wanted to. He was forced into the situation.

He could imagine what his friends would say if they knew. A man's ultimate fantasy and all that, right? Charlotte was an attractive woman, but he'd never thought her sexually attractive until he'd seen her down on his wife.

Cameron walked up to Shannon and placed a finger under her chin. He forced her to look at him. She was still angry, he could tell. She didn't want to look him in the eye and when she did, hers were cold.

"Why are you pissed?" he asked. "I had a reservation for us this evening, if only you'd given me a chance. I was finishing things up while you were at work, but planned to come in when you got home. You didn't even give me a chance to get cleaned up."

"I kinda thought you'd be cleaned up, or at least act like you wanted to go."

"I didn't even know you were here. I planned on coming in when you got home. You take longer to get ready than I do."

She continued her icy stare.

His eyes narrowed. "Is that why Charlotte wants you to move in with her?"

"Fuck you," she said, and pushed him away.

God he wanted her, again. Her hair flew out in a jumble of curls around her face, her face flamed red, her lips puckered.

He grabbed her and threw her across the bed. His dick immediately hardened again. He hadn't put on any clothes, and he tore her robe away.

Her eyes pierced into his. She snarled. He brought his mouth down on hers. She wiggled, but took him in.

He moaned and pulled away. "Did you like having Charlotte's mouth against your pussy?" he asked as he slid his tongue down her leg.

"Did you like watching?"

"Yes. No. I like it better when it's just me and you."

"Oh darn. Next time I thought we could invite Anthony for dinner."

He pulled his lips away from her skin. He skimmed his body up to hers and thrust his cock against her pelvis.

"You're thinking of Anthony again?" he asked, fury boiling within him. He'd never let another man's hands touch his wife's body.

But how in the hell was he going to get even? After Charlotte, what could he give her that'd be the ultimate revenge?

He contemplated that. His marriage was important to him. His sex life was important to him, but he didn't want to do something that she could never forgive him for.

He made a mental note to give Anthony a call. They'd met at Shannon's Christmas party last year. He wasn't a bad looking guy, though Cameron had no desire to explore that sexual side of him. Maybe he could get Anthony and Charlotte together…

* * * *

Shannon's heart pounded in her chest as she walked up the steps. She recognized Anthony's car outside. What was he doing here?

A quick glimpse in the garage told her Cameron was not inside, though the light blazed, wasting electricity. Wasting money. She clicked the switch off and opened the door.

It was supposed to be their date night, something they'd agreed to last week. For one night a week, it was just them. A date, a fuck, whatever. But just them.

Anthony and Cameron stood in the living room, shirtless. Her jaw dropped, her mouth watered. Anthony was a good-looking guy, but not her type. She was too hung up on her husband, though she did like the fantasy of Anthony from time to time.

Anthony's hands rubbed Cameron's shoulders. "Better now?" he asked as his hands fell to his side.

Shannon dropped her purse to the counter, a faint flutter heating inside her. She glanced from her husband, to Anthony, back to her husband. "What's going on?"

Charlotte emerged from behind the closed bedroom, wearing a slinky, sexy red negligee. She advanced on Shannon. Shannon furrowed her brow and brought her hands up as if to fend her off, but Charlotte unbuttoned her shirt, freeing first one shoulder, then the other. She wrapped her arms around Shannon and unbuckled her bra, exposing her breasts.

Charlotte wrapped Shannon's hands with the shirt, tying them tightly behind her. Her hands brushed Shannon's breasts as she pushed her to the couch. Shannon fell, and Charlotte stepped away.

"You're to sit here and watch," Charlotte said.

Watch what? She wanted to ask, but words wouldn't form. Anthony was inching Cameron's jeans down to the floor.

Shannon settled her hips into the couch, finding a more comfortable spot. The ceiling fan shifted cold air across her breasts. Her peaks hardened, begging to be touched.

Charlotte sauntered behind Anthony, trailing her white-tipped nails down his tanned chest. She yanked on the buttons of his jeans and pulled them the rest of the way down.

Cameron stepped away and came to sit beside Shannon.

"What's going on?" she asked again. A foursome? Without her consent? Well, she hadn't asked his consent, either, but still. She didn't know what to think of this.

"You're to watch," he said, "while Anthony makes love to your best friend."

She raised her eyebrows as she glanced at her husband, then at the couple in the middle of the room. A wooden chair from the dining room was situated behind them. They were locked in an embrace, Charlotte's right leg wrapped around Anthony and resting against the chair, Anthony's hands trailing down her back.

"You can't do anything," Cameron continued. "You can't touch yourself. You can't touch me."

Her lips pursed. Cameron slid his hands up her skirt, unzipped it, and pulled it down, along with her panties. She shifted her hips, but he took his hand away.

"You like to watch two people making love, don't you?" he whispered against her skin. Close enough to feel something, not close enough to appease her hunger.

Yes, they watched it together on TV sometimes, but this was something different. This was real.

Exciting? Maybe. Awkward? Definitely.

Anthony, completely naked now, sat on the chair and turned Charlotte forward to face Shannon, backwards on him. He ripped her negligee off and guided her body down to the tip of his penis.

Shannon cried out as Anthony entered Charlotte, a clear view of them. Her pussy burned, and she arched her hips up and down.

She glanced at Cameron, who watched her intensely, his eyes never leaving her face or her body to glance at the couple in the middle of the room.

"Fuck me now," she begged.

"No," he said, though his voice was strained. He was hard, and his fists tightened against the cloth on the couch, as if fighting for control.

"Now," she moaned.

His mouth came down on hers. She pulled on her restraint, trying to free herself, but it wouldn't budge. She shifted her hips higher, grazing Cameron's cock, and thrashed around until he finally entered her.

They lay together on the couch a long time after it was over. Shannon glanced around, but Anthony and Charlotte had gone.

She glanced at her husband. Well, at least she'd succeeded in getting his attention away from the damn garage.

"How are we going to top that?" Shannon asked.

Cameron nuzzled her ear with his lips. "I can think of several ways."

About the Author

Much like a secret agent, Jalena Burke leads a double life. One as a romance writer, the other as a legal assistant. Though she works full time to pay her bills, writing has always been her passion. She shares her other passions with her husband of 12 years. They include kayaking, travel, outdoor adventures, crafting, reading, movies, her family, and Riley, their cat. She was born and raised in Texas, and Texas is where she'll stay, as long as she can write.

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