Page 38 of Married With Malice

It’s been ages since I’ve been out on the ice. When I try to remember how long, all I can picture is Annalisa, gliding with graceful speed and a crazy happy look on her face. It’s a shame she gave that up.

The bartender fills a bowl with a fresh batch of pretzels and I grab a handful before they’re contaminated by someone else’s hands.

As the game ends with a Dukes victory, I’m tempted to text Anni and ask her to come down for a drink. There are still hours left before dinner and I’m impatient to see her again. Unlike the sexually charged atmosphere of our shared suite, this is a neutral zone.

Maybe I was too smug earlier. I should have mentioned that while I was in Miami I couldn’t wait to get back here to her. She wouldn’t have believed me but I should have said it anyway.

After ordering another beer, I spot a familiar looking couple seated across the room at a table. I spend a few minutes scoping them out while chewing on pretzels and then I carry my beer over to say hello.

Their body language broadcasts that they’re the sociable sort and I’m not surprised by how easy it is to chat them up and take a seat at their table. This has never been a problem, approaching people out of the blue and finding something to talk about.

The reason they’re familiar is because Anni was watching them down at the beach this afternoon.

The first thing I did when I returned was seek her out. I found her alone on the beach, staring at a couple getting frisky in the water.

While Anni was preoccupied with the scene, I stood back at a comfortable distance and watched her. Even from twenty yards away I saw how she ogled the couple while they were fooling around in the surf.

Apparently she likes watching.

As it happens, I like watching too.

Anni squirmed and pressed her knees together, an epic sign that she was getting turned on. When she started to gather her belongings like she was planning to leave, I took off to await her arrival in our room.

Anyway, these two are a very chatty pair. She owns a boutique in Asheville and he’s a realtor. I can’t exactly share my real job title. I tell them I’m a Manhattan corporate litigator and they nod with friendly, vacant smiles. They’re celebrating their second anniversary and when they hear I’m on my honeymoon they nearly vault out of their chairs and applaud.

An hour later, I’ve learned far more about them than I was interested in learning and I’m glad when they run off to their room for a twilight fuck party. They didn’t explicitly share their plans but she’d been discreetly massaging his dick with her bare foot for the last fifteen minutes so I drew some conclusions.

There’s still some time before dinner and I take a leisurely stroll on the stretch of boardwalk parallel to the beach. The ocean looks a little choppy tonight but the sky is clear and the stars wink into view one by one.

At ten minutes to eight I start heading over to the Green Room. George and Belinda are already waiting at a center table. George is surprised that my wife isn’t with me.

“She’ll be along in a few minutes.” I take a seat and shake out a linen napkin.

I think there’s a good chance this is true, although there’s no telling what Anni will look like when she does appear. It’s adorable the way she thinks she can shock me. Maybe she’ll try again. I won’t even mind if she breaks out that deranged costume she wore to our wedding. She can be my bad witch if she wants. We can play that game all night.

Belinda Doyle no longer has the bright orange hair from her eighties album covers. She’s moved on to a stately silver bob and she’s chosen to age naturally as opposed to her husband’s obvious surgical intervention. George hails a waiter and tells him to bring out shrimp cocktail and escargot to start with.

“Any food allergies?” he asks me. “I should have checked with you first.”

I shake my head. “None at all.”

“What about your wife?”

Shit. I have no idea. If I admit that I’m clueless about my wife’s food allergies then eyebrows will be raised. It seems like something a man ought to know about the woman he just married.

The Barones used to take vacations with us sometimes and I don’t remember anyone raising the red flag on food allergies. All I recall about mealtimes is that Sabrina cut her food into little tiny pieces because she almost choked on a breadstick once. As for Anni, she always tried to sit far away from me because of that one time I played a dumb prank and shook some pepper on her dessert. I hope she’s forgotten about that.

While I’m struggling with an answer to George’s question, I look up and there she is. She stands by the concierge podium in a wine-colored dress that rolls off her shoulders and clings to her body. The dress is delightfully short. Her dark brown hair hangs long and loose. She went to some trouble with her makeup and though I still prefer her fresh-faced and natural, I appreciate the sultry effect of her painted lips and dramatically lined eyes.

I wouldn’t say that I start drooling because no one really does that but my cock twitches and I can’t look away.

Anni slowly walks over with all the confidence of a beautiful woman who knows there are a lot of eyes fastened to her. When I stand up to greet her I’m so clumsy that my chair nearly falls over. There’s a fleeting smirk of amusement on her full lips.

“My wife, Annalisa.” I pull her chair out. The pride in my voice isn’t fake. It’s impossible to feel anything but lucky right now.

Anni has decided to be charming. She smiles at George and Belinda. She doesn’t smack my hand away from her chair and call me an asshole, not even when I push my luck and casually graze my palm over her tight ass.No panties.She took my advice. What a good girl.

Now I’m bummed that we haven’t even been served appetizers yet. I’m ready to bypass the whole dinner and be alone with my wife.

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