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.