Chapter 1

 

            Katie bent low over the contract, squinting to catch the fine print. She made an impatient noise, then took off her glasses, cleaned them carefully, rubbed her eyes, then put them back on again. She studied the print, then made a small notation next to one of the lines.

            She sat back in the chair and yawned, then rubbed her eyes again and glanced at the clock. It was almost eight. Mark was going to be mad again. They'd hoped to have a romantic evening together, to make up for some of the time they'd missed.

            She made a wry face, then flipped the page and read down the fine print again. Late hours were a necessary part of life, this time of year, especially if you were the most junior editor at Baskin Forbes, one of New York's largest advertising agencies.

            She stepped out of her little glass walled office and walked up the aisle between cubicles to the kitchen for a coffee. She hesitated briefly at the door at the sight of Peter Miller, then kept walking, nodding briefly to him as she passed by and went to the coffee machine.

            She did not like Miller. He was a constant disapproving presence at the office, a man who has as much as told her he thought she had been hired only for her looks and who never failed to find some unflattering remark about her work.

            She took the coffee back to her desk and sat down with a sigh. It was men like Miller that made her work twice as hard, just for the same recognition.

 

            She wrapped up the work just before nine, then finally shrugged on her hip-length suede jacket, slipped into her sneakers, and headed downstairs to the parking lot. She didn't yet have the BMW she'd hoped for, but last year had managed to trade in the eight year old Toyota for a two year old Chrysler, so she was getting there.

            She flipped a lock of coppery red hair out of her eyes as she started the engine, then accelerated smoothly, and turned out onto the street.

            At this time of night the traffic was fairly thin, and twenty-five minutes later she was pulling up in front of her building...to find no parking spaces, of course.

            She cursed at the Nissan in her space, then drove a block up and stole somebody else’s. She stepped out of the car and shivered a bit in the late January weather. She did up her coat tightly and slipped on her gloves as she made her way back down the street.

            She walked along briskly, and a minute later Jerry, their doorman, was pulling the door open and smiling at her.

            "Hi there, Mrs. Mahoney," he smiled.

            "Hi, Mark," she said.

            "Nuther late night?"

            "Afraid so," she sighed, making her way to the elevators.

            "Well, gotta climb that slippery ladder," Mark said.

            "Just so there's plenty of gold at the top," she smiled, stepping into the elevator as it opened.

            He watched her until the door closed; remembering the sight of her in the summer, wearing a tight spandex workout outfit when he'd delivered a package to her door. She was slender, but athletic, and with her bright blue eyes, and long, beautiful, silky hair was just adorable.

            His feelings were mixed. Half of him wanted to pat her head and hug her in a paternal way.

            The other half wanted to fuck her brains out. She had a fabulous ass, and the thought of her kneeling between his legs, and him plunging his pecker into that sweet mouth, was enough to get his rocks off every time he masturbated.

            "Man, would I love to fuck you," he whispered to himself as the doors closed.

 

            Katie turned and checked her face in the mirrored wall as she rode upstairs. She pulled some bangs down over her forehead, hoping to look waif-like, and defuse some of Mark's inevitable anger.

            She tried out various sad smiles on herself until the elevator stopped, then she sighed and headed down the hall to their apartment.

            She did love Mark, she really did, but...after six years of marriage...things were...not quite boring, but certainly it had been a while since sparks flew.

            She shrugged and pushed her key into the apartment. She pushed open the door and peeked inside, then pushed it open all the way and flipped on the lights. Mark wasn't here.

            She hissed worriedly, wondering if he'd gone out to get drunk or something. She closed the door, then hung up her coat.

            "Mark?" she called.

            She walked through the living room to the bedroom, then checked the bathroom and kitchen. He wasn't here, nor was there any sign that he'd been here recently. She checked his closet. His brown suit was missing. That was the suit he'd worn to work.

            She pondered that for a moment. Surely if he'd come home he'd have changed immediately, and even if he'd waited an hour or two before getting disgusted and leaving, surely he'd not put on the same suit.

            "I should have called," she said.

            But she hadn't. At five she'd hoped she'd finish by six, and so get home only a bit late. At six she thought surely it would only be till seven. At seven she had thought she'd be done by eight and by eight she was too afraid of getting the phone slammed in her ear to call.

            But she'd wondered why he hadn't called her.

            She worried now that something might have happened to him, that he'd been hit by a car or mugged or something.

            Then she heard a key in the front door and raced into the bedroom. She closed the door and stripped, dumping everything into her closet, then pulled on a green satin nightshirt that set off her red hair so well.

            She ran to the door just as Mark opened it, fluffing her hair so it hung down over her chest.

            "Oh," he said.

            "Oh," she said.

            "Uhm, look, honey, I'm really sorry."

            "You are?"

            "Yeah, I tried to call, but the pay phone wasn't working."

            "And there's only one payphone in the city?

            "Ahhh, I was stuck in traffic. See, I had to go all the way out to Queens to check on a project we're running for the phone company, and it just took longer than I thought. I lost track of time."

            "Hmmph," she said, turning up her nose. "Some romantic evening."

            "Well, aaahh, can't we make it for tomorrow?"

            "We have to go out with Sara and Dave tomorrow."

            "Oh, yeah, uhm, couldn't we cancel?"

            "No, we couldn't cancel! It's their anniversary. We're going to the opera."

            "Yuck."

            He came into the bedroom and took off his suit jacket then undid his tie. Katie moved to the bed and sat on the edge, crossing her long legs.

            "Did you eat something?"

            "Yeah, I had a couple of burgers sent in," he said, kicking off his shoes.

            He massaged his feet and sighed tiredly.

            "Ohh, la, lah," she said as he bent over.

            "Don't be such a dirty girl," he said.

            "I can't help it. That's just the way I am."

            "I married a cheap bimbo."

            "And a forgiving one, lucky for you."

            "Yes, very forgiving."

            He stripped to his shorts, then came over and slid his hands around her head, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead, then on the lips. Her arms went around him and their tongues touched briefly as her hands slid down onto his ass.

            He sighed and pushed her head away, smiling wryly.

            "Honey, I am sooooo tired."

            "So?"

            "I mean, can we...like, wait until tomorrow?"

            "You mean you're too tired to make love?"

            "Well...kind of, yeah."

            "I can remember a time you'd crawl through broken glass to get to me."

            "Yeah, well." He smiled, kissed her on the forehead again, then stepped back. "That was before I had to work for a living."

            Katie was so tired herself that she couldn't find it in her heart to blame him. All she wanted to do was veg out in front of the TV and relax.

            "Do you know the last time we made love?" she sighed.

            "A couple of days ago."

            "No. We fucked a couple of days ago. I'm talking about making love. You know, when it lasts longer than twenty minutes."

            "Jesus, Katie, can't we argue about this tomorrow?" he groaned, pulling on his lying-around-the-house sweats.

            "What? In front of Sara and Dave? Anyway, I'm not complaining. I mean, I'm not blaming you. It's just that...we've both been so busy..."

            "I know."

            "I just wonder if we've become bored with each other or something. There was a time we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Now we can sleep in the same bed for days and not touch each other."

            "I am not bored with you," he growled, sliding his arms around her.

            "Well, maybe bored isn't the right term," she sighed. "Maybe...maybe we just don't...excite each other like we used to."

            "We're just tired."

            "Maybe," she sighed.

            He kissed her and went into the living room. She followed slowly, "Thanksgiving," she said.

            "What?"

            He dropped onto the sofa and reached for the remote as she slid down beside him.

            "Thanksgiving night. That's the last time we made love."

            "We made love plenty of times since then."

            "Yeah, once a week," she snorted. "Anyway, I'm not talking about a morning quickie or a fifteen or twenty minute session before we go to bed, I'm talking about making love."

            "Honey," he groaned. "Neither of us has the time any more to spend two or three hours groping and necking on the fuckin' couch."

            "If Cindy Crawford walked in that door naked right now you'd find the time and energy."

            "Well...yeah, I guess."

            "So you're not that attracted to me any more!"

            "I am too! It's just that...men are whores, I guess. We like to sleep around with gorgeous fashion models whenever they throw themselves at us. Anyway, wouldn't you jump Tom Cruise if he walked through the room naked?"

            "No."

            "Liar."

            "Well, maybe I would. He's sure got some kind of body."

            "And I don't?"

            "Not like him."

            "Thanks."

            "Do you think familiarity breeds contempt?"

            "I could never have contempt for you? You're too gorgeous," he grinned, sliding his hand along her leg.

            "Yeah, but what about me having contempt for you?"

            "Oh, very funny. You're a funny lady."

            She crawled over and straddled him, sitting on his thighs as she pushed him back and licked her lips seductively. Then she reached down and peeled her nightshirt up and off in one smooth motion, tossing it on the floor behind her.

            He reached for her but she gripped his wrists and shoved his hands back.

            "Do you think I'm sexy?" she purred.

            He looked straight into the soft, high flesh of her breasts, eyeing the bright pink nipples, and smiled.

            "Yes, you're very exciting," he said.

            She held his hands, rubbing her ass up down on his thighs as she tightened her knees against his hips.

            "Do I turn you on?" she growled.

            "Sometimes," he said.

            She brushed her nipples against his face, pulling her chest back as he tried to mouth them.

            "Do I now?" she taunted.

            "You're sure starting to," he said.

            "Like what you see?" she teased, brushing her breasts against his face. He licked at them and she pulled back. She stuck her tongue out at him, then pulled up off his lap and stood up. She looked down at him, saw him staring into her crotch, and grinned as his hands came up and gripped her buttocks.

            His tongue slid along her pussy and she laughed, then jerked away and jumped back onto the floor. She snatched up her nightshirt and pulled it on over her head.

            "Just wondered," she said, grinning at him.

            "Get your ass back here," he growled.

            "No way. I know how tired you are. I don't want to exhaust you."

            "Get back here."

            "Nuh uh."

            He jumped to his feet and she squealed and ran around behind the sofa. He chased her, and she circled the sofa a couple of times. Then he leapt over the thing and caught her, growling as he lifted her up over his shoulders.

            He staggered back to the sofa as she writhed in his arms, then fell heavily into the plush cushion, grabbing her around the middle as she tried to crawl away.

            "Let me go!" she cried, laughing.

            "Not likely," he said, flipping up the bottom of her nightshirt to reveal her bare behind.

            She twisted this way and that, and he got an arm around her waist and pulled her over his lap, tugging the nightshirt higher. His right hand slapped down against her ass and she yelped and squirmed harder.

            "Hold still, you brat!"

            "Pervert!" she cried.

            He gripped her pussy and kneaded the flesh as her legs jerked and bounced on the sofa. Then she moaned and slowed her motions, spreading her legs.

            "Ah ha, got you where it hurts, didn't I?" he grinned, rubbing his fingers up and down her mons.

            "Hmmmmmmm," she moaned.

            He slipped his hand out from between her soft thighs and cracked it down on her bottom again. She yelped and cursed wildly.

            "You deserve a spanking for being a cocktease," he laughed.

            "That'll be the day!" she cried, writhing and wriggling in his arms as she tried to escape.

            She managed to twist around and get across the sofa, then flopped off onto the floor. He grabbed her again, falling atop her, and they rolled several times before he came out on top. She twisted, and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her again.

            He sat back on his heels and hauled her belly up across his knees, then pulled her wrists together behind her back and pinned them there with one hand. He flipped up the bottom of her nightshirt again and spanked her several times.

            Both of them had been just enjoying themselves, fooling around, having fun, but something caught both of them in the guts as his hand slapped across her soft flesh, and both of them realized it.