Page 13 of His Wife

This was not to be that day.

In stony professionalism, they reviewed the spreadsheets of their latest target. Megan owned a very large and extremely successful Real Estate Investment Trust, and they had been eying several acquisitions in the last few months. Since Matthew was the Vice President of Acquisitions, the bulk of the responsibility fell on him and his team.

Megan’s team of direct reporters had been hand-selected and carefully crafted. She wanted to make sure that she could rely on those she had working for her, and there was no doubt as to whether Matthew was capable. She found him pleasant enough to look at, and had struck up a casual sexual relationship with him, but knew that he was long-term material. Just not for her.

Well, some day he would make someone happy and provide a very nice little life. Neither that life nor Matthew was what she wanted permanently. He was the white picket fence, 2.3 children, and a little fluffy dog type. She was not. She was the corporate jet-set, high-rise condo type.

“Dinner at the Ritz, 6:00?” she asked crisply as their conference ended Matthew stood with his hand on the doorknob. He nodded mutely and exited. She could tell what he wanted. He wanted her to stay the night with him just one time. But she always left afterwards.

Around six o’clock that evening, Megan shut down her laptop and locked it into her desk, as always. She stood in front of the mirror that hung behind her door and studied her reflection. In her mid-thirties, she was proud of the fact that her face looked experienced but ageless. Her dark blonde hair was swept back into a French twist, and she wore just enough makeup to make her creamy skin look flawless. She smoothed on a dusky rose lipstick, and straightened her suit jacket. Her clothes were tailored to flatter without emphasizing anything. Matthew was starkly aware of her well-maintained figure, but no one else in the office really could tell, except for the way her stilettos accentuated her shapely calves.

She slung her cobalt leather purse over her shoulder, and took the private elevator down to the garage where her driver was waiting. Matthew was already there, standing patiently by the door to let her in.

Megan slid across the black leather seat. She could feel Matthew’s eyes traveling up her exposed thigh. His pining was becoming annoying with each passing hook-up, and she was contemplating calling it quits.

Matthew longed to throw caution to the wind and take her right there on the sumptuous black leather back seat, letting his tongue trace where his eyes had been. But when she glanced up at him through thick, dark lashes looking more irritated than flattered, he just slid inside.

Dimly lit, the restaurant oozed class. Fine white table cloths, expensive china, and silver graced the tables. Soft jazz music played in the background, blocking only the sounds of soft chatter and laughter. Tuxedoed waiters moved elegantly throughout.

Matthew gave Megan a guarded smile. She smiled back, he was relieved to see.

“Are we ready for the week-end retreat?” he asked her. Megan had arranged for her entire senior staff to spend a long weekend at a mountain resort.

Surprisingly enough, she actually believed in team building. Most people would have assumed that was entirely too touchy-feely for someone like her, but she knew that a unified team created a unified company. She had made the arrangements for everyone, including a new hire that had not started yet. Her staff had recently added a head of security, but due to conflicting schedules she had not met him yet as yet. It would be an ideal way to introduce him to the team.

After a routine roll in the hay with Matthew after dinner, she dressed quickly and was on her way. Matthew felt abandoned, as always, but was in no position to really do anything about it.

As Megan’s driver pulled away from the curb of Matthew’s penthouse apartment building, a large figure stood in the shadows off to the side of the entrance. Startled, Megan momentarily thought about notifying security. He lit a cigarette and wandered away from the building, so she settled back into the seat and closed her eyes for the few minutes it would take to get home.

Street lights streamed in through the wall-to-ceiling windows of her luxurious, down-town condo. Megan carefully laid her suit on the chair in the corner of her bedroom, and slipped under the sheets in nothing but her black satin thong. Tension drifted from her body like liquid as she she lay back, letting herself sink into the mattress. Sighing, she let her mind wander where it would. Matthew … the upcoming week-end away … Her self-imposed aloneness… It had been years since she’d shared a bed with anyone all night, and as she drifted off she pondered what that would feel like. But in the back of her head, she suspected it would never be Matthew.

Chapter 2

Mac’s dark eyes skated over the town car as it pulled away with the knockout blonde inside. He had observed her entering the building with a well-dressed stiff business type, and smirked when she left alone about an hour later. She seemed like the type who never let loose. Mac knew exactly what had transpired over that hour, and yet her makeup had been flawless and her hair was still perfect. Oh, how he would like to see her undone!

He lit a cigarette and walked away from his new apartment building. He had just moved to town and was still getting his bearings, so walking around at night served that purpose as well as clearing his head.

His departure from the Marines had been spotty, but in the end they had given him an honorable discharge which he greatly appreciated. Personal security was much more his speed, but he had to begrudgingly admit that his time in the service had provided him with the skills and the resume to get jobs. He had pictured something much more exciting than a stale corporate job. Head of security for some suit types was not his ideal gig, but it paid well and he had some debts to climb out of.

He had already made contact with a few old colleagues in the city, and was headed out to meet one of them for a drink. There were certain types he needed to be aware of in town and the other fellows like him were his best bet for scoping out the situation.

He knew he cut an imposing figure wherever he went. The hostess’s eyes at the bar went wide when he filled the doorway. She was a tiny young thing, and he had a feeling she would be fun, but it was time for business first. If she was still there when he finished, he might consider a little relaxation time with her. She looked like the squealing type and he loved that.

His friend, Stone, waved him over to a table in the dimly lit corner, and he squeezed his large frame into the wooden chair, sitting cautiously in case the chair gave way. A busty little waitress bounced over to them. Mac grinned at her when she stopped with her generous breasts at his eye level.

“What can I get you fellas?” she giggled.

“A double shot of yourself, if you don’t mind,” Stone was grinning hungrily at the girl too.

She giggled again, “Not on the menu, Sir, but peeks are free.”

She bent over to give them both a better look, and Mac felt a twitching under the fly of his black cargo pants. It had been too long since he’d had a nice bouncy roll in the hay, and her low-cut top and short shorts were evil reminders of that lack.

“Double Scotch, neat,” Mac rumbled deeply.

She cocked her head towards him and shifted her hips so that her tits jiggled nicely in her push up bra.

“Same,” Stone answered.

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