“What’s wrong, Pipes? You look like you’re a million miles away.”
I slap on a smile and turn my head toward my husband, surprised he even noticed something was bothering me. He’s been so checked out lately that I could scream, and he probably wouldn’t hear me.
“I’m fine, Cannon. Just thinking.”
His crystal-blue eyes search mine, and I almost tell him, but I’m afraid. This trip is supposed to bring us closer together. When I booked it, I thought that time away from his job and the office would help him focus on our marriage again. But the week is almost over, and we’re still as disconnected as when we arrived.
Cannon has been taking phone calls the entire time even though he promised he would leave his work back in Florida. Each call comes with an apology and time locked away in the bedroom, away from me.
I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve Googled ways to bring the spark back into our marriage. Each day, I’ve worn sexy dresses and tiny bikinis to the pool. I scheduled romantic beachside dinners and late-night desserts in bed, but they’ve done nothing.
The only thing that excites him these days is work. When someone from the office calls, they get a reaction.
At night, when he’s asleep, I become that person. The one who snoops around, checking his phone and laptop. But all I find are texts and emails about business and calls to and from the office. Nothing is out of the ordinary.
Things haven’t always been like this. There wasn’t always a wedge and divide in our marriage. There was a time when Cannon would make me feel like the prettiest girl in the room. His warm smile would wrap me in a hug, and I was content, knowing he wanted me as much as I wanted him. His actions were the most honest quality he possessed. Now, I constantly question them.
“We’re on vacation, gorgeous. Don’t let your job bring you down.”
“I’m not,” I tell him.
It’s not my job that has me this worried. Sure, I’m mad about the cuts the district made, eliminating my position along with a lot of others. I’m nervous that my job isn’t the only part of myself I’m losing. I’m scared Cannon will be next if we can’t fix this. There’s only so much distance two people can put between themselves before they’re each going in opposite directions, permanently.
My marriage and my classroom were my comfort zones, the places where I felt most like myself. Without work, a little piece of my identity is lost. Without Cannon, my world is turned upside down. Another job, I can find. I’ve had several over the course of my life, but I’ve had only one husband, one marriage. And I can’t believe he’s slipping through my fingers.
Cannon chucks his towel in the sand and joins me on the blanket, checking his phone the second his ass hits the towel. I wish I knew whom he was waiting for or what he thought he was missing.
After he sets the phone back in the beach bag, I grab his hand and pull him closer. My lips chase a water droplet down his smooth chest, and I imagine what it’d be like if he had a smattering of hair there. Always clean-shaven, he doesn’t go more than two weeks without a stop at the barber. I used to love how much he cared about his appearance. Now, I realize looks are only skin-deep. It’s the passion beneath them that I’m after. The unapologetic demand to be lit on fire.
“What do you say we get out of these suits and take advantage of the hot tub for a little while?” I say, hopeful that he won’t turn me down.
“You’re done with the beach already?” he asks.
Yesterday, we stayed until six, but who cares if it’s only three in the afternoon?
“The beach is great, but my husband is better,” I tell him as my finger traces the curve of his jaw.
His head dips, and he’s so close to kissing me that I can almost feel his lips on mine. But that little bit of hesitation on his part adds another layer of doubt to my already cluttered mind.
“Never mind,” I whisper. “Help me up.”
Neither of us moves.
Finally, Cannon snaps out of it and raises his head. He looks around before leaning forward to press his lips to mine in a gentle, chaste kiss, followed by a deeper one with a little tongue. Even though I want more, I know that’s all he’s comfortable giving me in public.
“You taste like coconut,” he says as he checks to see if anyone saw us kissing.
The beach is fuller than it’s been all week. Someone had to be watching us. I don’t know why, but that thought makes my heart race so fast that my pulse pounds in my eardrums. Cannon’s never been big on public displays of affection, and for a minute, I want to press him for more to see just how far I can get him to go.
“Kiss me again,” I whisper against his skin. But a soft peck isn’t nearly enough to satisfy the warmth pooling between my thighs. “More, Cannon. Please.”
“I thought you wanted to get up?”
“What I want is for you to touch me.” I take his hand and place it on my thigh, encouraging him.
“Piper, slow down. We can’t do this here.”
We could, if he wanted me badly enough. If he wanted us more than his phone.
My fingers slip beneath the waistband of his board shorts, and he shudders.
“Tell me you want me, Cannon.”
“Piper, I always want you.” He’s sincere enough that I almost believe him. “But we’re at the beach. There are kids and other people all over the place.”
God, I wish he would just let go for once in his life. I wish he would stop fixating on appearances and lead with his body instead of his mind. All I want is for him to cut loose and pick me instead of lying under the sun. “Let’s go back to the room,” I tell him.
He pulls his phone out again, checking the time. “Okay. I’ll pack up.”
Once we have everything in the bag, he glances over his shoulder and then walks us toward the resort. Sand from my flip-flops smacks me in the back of my legs and sticks to my lotioned-up body. I know the perfect place to try again. It’s more secluded, private enough that nobody would be able to see us even though we’d still be outside.As we’re approaching a little alcove with its own shower, I take Cannon’s hand and pull him inside. When we’re out of view, I slip my hand inside his swim trunks and wrap my fingers around his dick.He lets his guard down for a split second, groaning, as I pump him up and down.But, as soon as he hears voices approaching, he grabs my arm. “Piper, enough. We have to stop.”“What if I don’t want to stop?”He pulls my hand out of his bottoms and stares down at me. I’m still wrapped around his torso when he searches my eyes and says, “What’s gotten into you?”Herein lies the problem. Cannon’s meticulous and proper, driven by calculation. How else would a l
It takes a few seconds before I realize the faces staring back are ones I recognize. It’s my team. They’re holding out their fists, waiting for me to pound them, just like we do on our way through the tunnel as we head toward the ice.I went to practice the day after I talked to my agent and told the team I wasn’t returning. And, now, they’re here to send me off.My final walk through the tunnel.The last time I’ll ever be a part of a team.I whisper the name of each player as I pass him, and when I reach Viktor, he pulls me in for a hug.“I’ll be down to visit as soon as we hit the off-season,” he says.“I know.”“You’d better have a hell of a tan and a wicked golf game by then.”“I hate golf.”“Learn to like it because I’m going to challenge the hell out of your handicap.”I say nothing.I can’t.“You’re going to knock her up and take your son to daycare and coach little league. You’re going to be all right.”I nod, not wanting any of the things he mentioned, still unable to say a w
PiperThe second the hotel room door closes, Cannon’s kissing my neck. What I thought was ruined suddenly comes to life. I take two steps backward until my back is pressed against the wall. His tongue laps at a little bead of sweat the air-conditioning is trying to chase away. He likes the room freezing cold and says it keeps the humidity from destroying his hair.When I first met Cannon, his hair used to hang just above his eyebrows. When he was working out, the strands would nearly poke him in the eye. Sometime during the last few years, he started keeping the sides shaved and the top long enough to blow-dry into the perfect wave, swept away from his face. I asked him if it was the beginning of an early midlife crisis. He said he finally started giving a shit.Is that what we’re having? An early midlife crisis?“Piper? Did you hear me?” He bends at the waist to look me in the eyes.“What?”“You sure you’re okay? I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.”“I’m fine,” I lie.“You’re not,” he
When his muscles relax, I wait for him to pull out and cuddle me against his chest, like he always does. But his phone rings inside the beach bag, and he stands up, running his fingers through his hair, as he looks around for it. I don’t know why I’m surprised he’s going to answer the call. I guess I hoped that, just this once, he’d put us first.I watch him dig into the pocket of the beach bag, pull the phone out, and then glance at the screen. And then he holds up a finger, letting me know he needs a minute. Normally, I’d give him all the time in the world, but it’s Saturday, and the office is closed. Only dire emergencies are handled on the weekends, and considering we’re in another country, Cannon couldn’t be much help.Something inside me snaps, and I get up from the bed and storm across the room. Without thinking, I grab the phone out of his hand and hang up.He glances back and forth between the phone and me and then stares at me in disbelief. “What the hell, Piper? That was a
I stay on the floor, keeping my hands on her legs, with no intention of going anywhere besides inside her pussy again. “You’ve got two minutes.” She tries closing me out, but my fingers keep her thighs pried open. “Three then.”“At least four. And I need a drink. My throat is killing me after all that screaming.”Now that I’ve swallowed her, my mouth is dry as hell, and I can use one, too. So, I go into the kitchen and stand in front of the fridge. “Wine?”“Yesss.”I pour her a glass, grab a beer for myself, and go back to the couch. She turned on a lamp while I was gone, and now, a blanket covers her legs.She reaches for the glass and says, “Remember that plan I mentioned the day we arrived in Florida? When we were in the ocean?”That was the day I tried putting my cock in her ass, which is the only reason I remember the conversation.I set the beer on the coffee table and get on my knees, feeling for her legs over the blanket and shoving them apart. “You can tell me while I lick.”
A couple of weeks ago, one click led to another, and before I knew what was happening, I’d joined a forum online. It’s moderated by a marriage expert who answers any and every question, no matter how off the wall or mundane it is.I would take my time browsing through each of the responses, hoping that one of them would relate to my own marriage, leading me toward some much-needed answers. Some of the posts I came across were helpful; others were completely ridiculous. But, when one particular response hit a little too close to home, I realized there were other couples in the same boat as we were and that this forum was right where I belonged.That one helpful response had me so hopeful that I was devouring every stitch of information I could get my hands on. I was even curious enough to explore the questions that didn’t have anything to do with my situation. The advice was fascinating, and some of the methods were so completely unconventional that I had to dig deeper.Swinging for in
All of that is beside the point. Maybe I should have told Cannon what I was doing, but I wouldn’t have been on this website if Cannon hadn’t changed. I wouldn’t be driving myself crazy, looking at every possibility to explain what had been going on and how to fix it, if things were different, if they were how they used to be.But the truth of the matter is, I’ve snooped on his phone and laptop, making me just as guilty as he is for being on mine. He hasn’t done anything I haven’t. At least I don’t think he has until I sit down in front of the laptop and notice a typed message that is waiting to be sent.“What are you doing?” I yell. “God, Cannon. What were you thinking, trying to message them? You weren’t even going to pretend to me be.”“I read some of the other messages, Piper. Isn’t this what you want? To set something up?”“No,” I tell him as I erase the text from the message and then close out of the program. “We’re not swingers. What I’ve been doing…it isn’t what you’re thinking
She knew so much because I used the same screen name on the forum as I did on the website, not thinking I’d actually use the profile on the swinger site. It was only there, so I could look around—not because I wanted to find a couple to play with, but to help me gather information. But, now, my mistake has caused an even bigger problem.“I sent her a picture of us. She asked. I felt like I had to because I’ve seen them. You saw the comments; she wants you. Maybe you want her, too, now that you’ve seen her.”“Tell me you don’t want him,” he says. “You’ve been all over their profile. Unless you’re suddenly into chicks, it has to be because of him.”I could lie all I wanted, but the proof is in the numbers. There’s no denying the fact that I have been drawn to this couple—the sexy, bearded man next to the beautiful blonde—from day one.“It doesn’t matter, Cannon. Not unless you want to actually swing. Do you?”He runs his fingers through his hair and adjusts his sunglasses. I wish he’d t