A Surprise Revelation (The Surprise Series Book 1) Read online

  He reached around her, his fingers deftly finding her clit, sliding down its length. “It can be me,” he said, his strong fingers spreading her open. His cock grazed her thighs, feeling for her, and just at her entrance he said, “Or the biker you wanted.” And he pushed into her, his stiffness forcing through her swelling into the wetness beyond.

  This is where she should deny it, say that she didn’t want the biker.

  Instead she moaned, her body reacting faster than her mind, her thoughts a whirlwind, wondering what was happening, what he was thinking, why he was so aroused, why she was so aroused. She pictured him, in the dark, seeing what she was feeling, powerfully holding her hips, thrusting into her, his fingers forceful on her clit, more raw emotion than she ever remembered from him, and the roughness made her think of the biker, not by choice, but he was there in her mind, in the room, in her, taking her, and she gave in to it, all of it, and she felt the cock in her stiffen and then explode, and though he had only been in her for a minute it pushed her over the edge, shamed and uncontrollably overwhelmed at the same time, lost in the darkness of the room and her fantasy.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning Richard got ready for work as if nothing had happened. Melissa had not slept well, wondering what she should say, if she should bring up the night before. Some of her anger at having been watched by Richard had waned, and the force of the lovemaking still lingered. But so did her confusion. Just what had set that off?

  Had Richard noticed other men looking at her before, and it hadn’t affected him? He had never mentioned anything. Why now? Is this what he had been so preoccupied with, not with work, but with wondering if she wanted another man? Or a different husband?

  Melissa considered simply asking him, but as Richard raced around getting his things together for the office he already seemed distracted. How would she even bring it up so that it wouldn’t sound like a complaint? Hi, Richard, I’ve been trying to get you to have more sex with me, and now I need to know why you wanted to have sex? It would sound stupid, even if she said it better than that. It would be stupid.

  Maybe it was just a one time thing, some rare confluence of factors which had led to it all happening. Nothing to worry about, nothing to even think about.

  But she obsessed about it all day.

  That night, Melissa lay in bed, flipping through the pages of a magazine without really noticing what was on them. It was after ten and Richard still wasn’t home. He had texted her to say that it was going to be a late night, he had a new project and he hadn’t been able to focus on it all week. It immediately made her feel a little guilty and a little mad, the implication was she had distracted him as he had worried about her having an affair.

  Just as she was about to turn off the light she heard the hum of the garage door opener. She hesitated, then left the light on. She tossed the magazine on the floor and rolled over. She’d give him a chance to say something.

  For once Richard seemed like he wouldn’t stay up and do more work; she heard the shower just a few minutes after his arrival. The shower made her think about what had happened last night in the bathroom, how different Richard had seemed, how he had been so excited. How she had been so excited, responding to him. But also partially because she had been thinking about another man, a stranger, and not only that, being prodded by her husband to think of him. Richard had seen how she had reacted, he had somehow picked up on her focus on the biker, had probably thought she was acting like a wide eyed teenager after her heartthrob. Richard had felt it, not something from the biker affecting him, but how the biker had affected her. He knew.

  Melissa was ashamed, and annoyed again, at Richard, at herself. Why should she have to defend herself about a physical reaction, a normal female response to a good looking man?

  That wasn’t quite fair, she thought. Richard hadn’t asked for an apology.

  But what did that make her in his eyes? A normal woman? Or some kind of slut?

  She hadn’t done anything wrong. When Richard had caught her looking at Vern, he should have pretended he didn’t notice. She tried to think if she had ever made a comment about Richard looking at another woman. She couldn’t remember, but wasn’t sure if it was because she had never caught him or whether he didn’t really look at other women, no matter what he said.

  But if Richard hadn’t noticed how she had reacted to Vern, then maybe he would not have been aroused last night, maybe he would not have made love to her. He could have still done it and kept his thoughts to himself.

  Her eyes snapped open. What if Richard would only get excited when she admitted that she was turned on by another man?

  She hadn’t admitted anything last night. But she had not denied it either. Richard had left it out there, the comment about her thinking about the biker, in the dark, about to take her. Richard wasn’t the conniving type, but he was very sensitive to the power of words, attuned to not only what was said but what was not said.

  What was Richard thinking as he fucked her? Was he wondering if she was thinking about Vern? Was he hoping she was?

  Melissa changed her mind; she wasn’t ready to talk about this. If there was even a chance that Richard wasn’t excited by her any longer, just by being herself, she didn’t want to hear it. That was foolish, she knew, but it was just how she felt right then. She needed more time to get ready for such a change. If that was even possible. She clicked off the light.

  She felt Richard slip into bed a few minutes later. “Are you asleep?” he whispered.

  Knowing that wasn’t something she could fake, and maybe a part of her, the foolish part, still wanting to hear what he had to say, she said, “No. I just turned off the light.”

  He snuggled up closer and kissed her hair. “It’s not that late,” he said.

  Melissa tried to gauge his tone. Was that just some factual comment, or was he suggesting something?

  What was wrong with her? She’d been complaining about not having enough sex, and here was an offer, and she was hesitating. Did Richard want her, or did he want her to be part of his new fantasy?

  Did she even want to know?

  She turned, realizing he was naked. He never got into bed naked. So he had been suggesting something. Wanting something.

  Hoping it was just her he wanted, she kissed him, her hand moving down, for once not sure if she was happy to feel him hard. She pulled away from the kiss, her hand still on him.

  “What?” he asked.

  She thought about telling him, about her questions, about asking him why he would suddenly want to have sex two days in a row. But she just wasn’t ready. Or she really didn’t want to know, at least not yet.

  “Nothing,” she said, praying she’d get away with the lie, just this once. “Nothing at all.” And she slipped down beneath the sheets, taking him in her mouth, all the time wondering what he was thinking about, wondering whether he was thinking about her lips on his cock, or whether he was thinking about her sucking another guy.

  Wondering if she really knew him at all.

  Chapter 8

  When Melissa awoke she was alone. The bed was still warm, Richard was probably in the downstairs gym. She knew she should get up, today she needed to do some more unpacking, she could not find where they had put some papers she needed for work. But it was early, it could wait just a little.

  So she lay there for a while, a rare treat, drifting in and out of sleep, half dreaming about the night before. The slight musk of their lovemaking lingered in her nostrils, her mouth still a little salty. She had been so drained the night before she hadn’t had the energy to get up to wash. Richard had fallen asleep right away, but though Melissa’s body was tired her mind was spinning.

  How long had Richard been fantasizing about her and other men? She still couldn’t believe it. She had been focused on all the wrong things, thinking their diminishing sex life had something to do with her, or how she looked. But whatever Richard was thinking about had never seemed to impact him as it did the
last two nights. Maybe these were new fantasies. Why now?

  She debated again about whether she should ask him about his newfound sexual interest. She didn’t want to risk ruining his sudden desire for her. On the other hand, did she really only want him to get aroused thinking about her with other men?

  Maybe it was just a phase. She’d had her phases, all the way back to high school. Jocks. Blond guys. Later, in college, guys with ink. Like different flavors of ice cream.

  Melissa tried to think of Richard with another woman. In her mind, seeing him get excited, concentrating on that. It didn’t work. She just couldn’t really picture it, and what little she could just wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t even really interesting.

  She sighed and got out of bed. She’d let it go for now, see where it went.

  In the kitchen the coffee was ready. Melissa poured herself a cup, the sound of the television, turned low, drifted in from the living room. She was barefoot, still in her tee, needing some coffee before jumping in the shower.

  Richard padded into the room, wearing only his workout shorts, his muscles popping a little from his exercise routine, his chest damp with sweat.

  He kissed her briefly on the neck, his hand on her hip, and then, surprisingly, he ran his hand back onto her ass, giving it a squeeze, and even more surprising, he left his hand on her, leaning in for a kiss. Not a good morning peck, a real kiss.

  Melissa pulled away. “I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

  Richard shrugged, still holding her. “I hoped you hadn’t. I wanted to taste you.”

  She pushed off a little from him, trying to read what was in his face. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “I’m just feeling good about last night. And the night before.”

  “Oh.” Melissa wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. The sex? Or what had led to it?

  Richard’s eyes darkened. “What?”

  “I don’t know.” She disentangled herself, turning to pour some coffee. “I’m just still a little confused about what you told me the other night.”

  There was a silence, and when she looked back at him she could see that his shoulders had dropped. He looked almost sad. She was about to apologize when he said, “I need to get in the shower.”

  He turned to go but she grabbed his arm. “Wait. I didn’t mean—”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We can talk about it later, or not at all. No problem.”

  She let go. “I just don’t understand it, that’s all.”

  Richard looked like he was trying to decide something. Finally, his voice not much above a whisper, he said, “I don’t know why I started thinking about it. I thought it was a little weird. I love you just as you are.” He paused. “I thought we used to have a great sex life. I don’t know what happened.”

  He waited for her to say something. Melissa wanted to reassure him, but she wasn’t sure she could. They had never had a great sex life. It had been fine. Okay. But nothing she would call great. Everything worked, but with Richard she had never had that out of control, crazy-out-of-her-mind sex. Not that she had a whole lot of that with other men, only a few. Especially with Marcus.

  Melissa had hoped she’d have that kind of sex in her marriage, but it wasn’t to be.

  So what? She loved Richard. He loved her. It was selfish to need more than that.

  Wasn’t it?

  So she bit her lip, knowing if she said their sex was great she’d not be able to pull it off, he’d hear it in her voice. So she didn’t say anything.

  Which was just like admitting it.

  Richard was still waiting, expectant, hopeful. But her silence gave him the answer. Lamely she tried to fix it. “Our sex life is fine. It’s just the frequency, or lack of it.”

  His eyes darted away. “I think you want more than that.”

  She was stuck, because he was right. But was this the time to bring it up? The way to bring it up? Was it even fair to him, to heap an expectation of her idea of the perfect marriage on him?

  She chickened out and changed the subject. “Why were you thinking of me with another guy? Is that what you think I want?”

  Faced with such a direct question, Richard reverted to his serious demeanor, answering explicitly what she asked. “Not specifically. I don’t know what you want, exactly. Sometimes I wish you would tell me. Other times, I don’t want to know.”

  “Richard, everyone has fantasies. I’m sure you do too. It’s nothing to be upset about.” Gently she added, “It’s nothing to be threatened by.”

  He shook his head. “I know all that. I’m not ashamed to admit I have some fantasies. But they are all about you, and what we do. I’ve never thought about you with someone else. Until recently. I—it bothered me. So I looked it up. It turns out it is a pretty common male fantasy.”

  She laughed. “Is that why you’ve been spending all the time at the office? Looking up kinky porn?” Melissa really didn’t think he’d be looking at porn, but studying up on what was going on, that was so Richard. Wanting to know all the facts.

  A little defensively, he said, “It’s not funny. I think even some women fantasize about it. Guys imagining their wives with someone else. Sometimes even watching or participating. Not swinging. Just the wife, with another guy. Or guys. It’s called hotwife.”

  Melissa laughed in spite of herself. “I never thought of myself as hot. Or as you thinking of me that way.”

  Richard’s eyebrows arched as he looked her up and down. “You are incredibly hot. I’ve always thought that.”

  “I’m in a tee shirt, I haven’t had a shower, my eyes are still full of sleep, and I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee. I don’t see myself as very hot, especially right now.”

  He drew close to her again, whispering in her ear, “And that is one of the things that makes you so hot. Because you don’t think you are.”

  She smiled, pushing him away, but could not help but asking, “Out of character, you mean? Like when you think of me doing something different from how you see me now?”

  “No, not like that.” He pulled her back and looked her in the eyes. “I mean it. You are hot to me.”

  Something he had said bothered her. Maybe a lot of it did, but one thing especially. “Was it just about what happened at the community center? Have you thought about me with other men?”

  Richard shrugged. “I hadn’t. Not until the other day.” He looked totally apologetic, a little sheepish. “I’m sorry if it bothers you. I can’t explain it. I’m just trying to be honest here.”

  Melissa had always thought that honesty was best. But maybe, like telling a friend she looked terrible in that ugly dress she adored, maybe it didn’t need to be so—forthright. “I don’t know quite what to say. How to react.”

  “You shouldn’t feel you have to react any particular way, or say anything special. If it bothers you, I won’t mention it again.”

  “I just don’t know how I feel. A little weird. And now that I know you’ve thought about it, I can’t forget it.”

  Richard’s eyes darkened. “I hope I haven’t caused us a problem. I was just telling the truth. And—.” He looked away.

  “And what?” she prodded.

  “I really do think you want more in the bedroom. Not just more sex, but—a little more excitement.”

  Melissa frowned. “That isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

  “How would I know that? And to be fair, how would you even know that? Haven’t you ever discovered something new you liked that you had never considered?”

  Marcus suddenly flashed into her mind, almost the same thing he had said to her when he had made her watch the porn videos. And Marcus had been right, she had discovered something new, something that had never crossed her mind. But this was different. Or was it?

  Melissa forced her mind back to the present. “I’ve got to get ready for work. Let’s talk about this some other time.” Or not at all, she thought.

  But it would be hard to get it out o
f her head.

  Melissa called the office from her car, telling them she’d be late, she had to pick up her presentation from the printers. As she parked at the shopping center, she saw the sign for the jeweler, which reminded her that she had left a necklace there to be repaired; it was not something she wore often and hadn’t thought much about it. She’d duck in and pick it up since she was here.

  It was early, the shop was empty. A kindly looking older woman was behind the counter, well made up, her jewelry elegant. “Can I help you?” the clerk asked.

  “I left a necklace that had a broken clasp,” said Melissa. “A small blue sapphire. I have the tag here somewhere.” She rummaged in her purse.

  “I know the piece,” said the woman. “I will need the receipt but I’ll be getting it while you look.”

  The woman disappeared in the back just as Melissa found the receipt. As she was waiting she glanced around at the displays, all nice pieces, nicer than what she normally wore. Her engagement ring was her only really good piece of jewelry, and even that hadn’t been very expensive; Richard did not have much money when they got engaged. She held her hand up, examining it in the light, it looked dingy compared to what she saw in the store. The ring had become second nature to her, she barely glanced at it.

  The clerk returned and noticed Melissa looking at her ring. “Your husband has good taste,” she said. “That’s a nice stone and setting. Or did you pick it out?”

  “He did,” said Melissa.

  The woman held out her hand. “Do you mind?”

  Melissa hesitated, then took off the ring. It was the first time she had removed it since she had been married.

  The woman pulled out a loop and looked at the stone. “Yes, this is very nice,” she mused. “Well cut. You don’t see many cut this well on such a small stone.” She looked up abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean. . .”

  Melissa smiled. “That’s all right. It is a small stone. I know that. I think it was probably the most my husband could afford at the time.”