Capital Wives (13 page)

Deanna wanted to tell Marisol she would agree to anything short of murder to right the wrong, to undo the single act that could possibly destroy her marriage. She loved her husband unconditionally, and prayed she would be able to get out of this dilemma unscathed and with Spencer still unaware that she'd been unfaithful.

D
eanna was going through her checklist of attendees when she realized she wasn't alone. Glancing up, she saw Spencer's broad shoulders spanning the doorway to the office. It was six-fifteen, and she was shocked that he'd come home so early.

She smiled at him. He'd removed his jacket and tie and rolled back the cuffs to his shirt. “Hi.”

Spencer returned her smile. The sound of Aretha Franklin's distinctive voice flowed from hidden speakers. “I like your music choice.”

“‘Natural Woman' is my anthem.” Deanna had bought several CDs featuring classic songs and instrumentals spanning six decades. “Did you eat?”

She wondered if her voice sounded strained to Spencer, because it didn't sound natural to her. It was as if she had morphed into the 1950s Donna Reed stay-at-home mom, asking her loving husband how his day was when her insides were churning into knots. If only he'd known that earlier that afternoon she'd met with a man for whom she'd opened her
legs, and if her life had depended upon it couldn't remembered his face or his name.

He nodded. “I had my assistant order something for lunch but when I didn't get a chance to eat it I had it for an early dinner.”

Standing and coming from behind the workstation, Deanna walked over to Spencer, touching her mouth to his. “How is Kate getting along with her husband?”

“They're doing much better after going to marriage counseling.”

Deanna gave him a too-bright smile. “That's good. I've always thought of them as such a cute couple.”

 

Spencer frowned. “Cute or not, the man should've never put his hands on her no matter how angry she makes him.”

Not wanting to talk about angry husbands, Deanna patted Spencer's chest. “You know you're going to have to eat more than one meal a day to regain the weight you lost.”

Wrapping an arm around Deanna's waist, Spencer pulled her close. “You worry too much.”

She smiled. “I can't worry about my baby?”

“Sure you can, but not more than I worry about you.”

Deanna kissed him again. “Playa.”

“I wish. How was your day?”

“It was good. I hung out with Marisol for a while. Bethany Paxton couldn't make it,” she lied. Deanna didn't know why she'd mentioned Bethany's name, but Spencer knew she had invited her and Damon to their dinner party.

Spencer's impassive expression did not change. The name Paxton made him want to punch walls. He still could recall in vivid clarity his conversation with Damon Paxton. He'd held out the carrot, then pulled it back when he wouldn't do his bidding. Spencer didn't want anything to do with Damon
Paxton; but not only had Deanna befriended the man's wife, she'd also invited them to their upcoming dinner party.

Now that Damon had reneged on his promise there was no reason why he should stop seeing Jenah. Just when he thought he was bored with her, the extremely talented woman came up with something completely new in her sexual repertoire to make him change his mind. Sleeping with Jenah validated all the reasons why men slept with prostitutes.

However, Spencer didn't think of her as a prostitute because he didn't actually pay her for sex. This didn't mean he hadn't given her money to buy something nice for herself every once in a while, and he did put her up in the suite at the Victoria, permitting her to charge whatever she wanted to eat or drink to his bill—a bill he always paid in cash. There was no way he was going to pay the expenses for his extramarital affair with a credit card and inadvertently leave the receipt lying around for Deanna to find. When he'd married Deanna he'd promised her it would be for life.

“I didn't know you and Bethany were tight.”

“I'm not tight with her like I am with Marisol. She's more of a friend. What's the matter, Spencer? Is there something about her you don't like?”

Reddish-brown eyebrows shot up. “Nah. I don't know her, so there's no reason for me not to like her.”

“How about her husband? Didn't the two of you have drinks?”

Spencer nodded. “We had a few drinks, talked politics and that was that. It's not as if he invited me to his home for dinner.”

“Well, they're coming here in two weeks.”

“How many have responded?”

Closing her eyes, Deanna leaned into Spencer. “So far
eighteen of twenty-four are coming. My brother and sister are still questionable. They're still trying to get sitters.”

“What about your parents? Can't they watch the kids?”

“Mom and Daddy are going away to golf camp that week, so they're not available. Are you smirking?” Deanna asked when Spencer turned his head. “You are,” she accused when she saw a flash of white teeth. “You know you're not right when it comes to my family.”

Tightening his hold on Deanna's waist, Spencer picked her off her feet. “You know I like your family. It's just your sister's badass kids that get to me. Why do they have to scream so much?”

“They're kids, Spencer. That's what they do.”

“Not our kids. We're going to have kids, Dee. Lots of them.”

“The only way we're going to have lots of kids is if we have a couple of sets of twins,” she countered.

Spencer set Deanna on her feet. “Twins run in my family. My dad, aunt and a few cousins are twins.”

He stared into the wide-set light brown eyes staring back at him. Deanna was the total woman: pretty, intelligent, creative, ambitious and loyal. She had been a faithful wife, while he'd slept with four women during his eight-year marriage. He thought of women as cars; he traded them in every two years. However, he doubted whether Jenah would last a year. She'd begun nagging him again about leaving his wife and marrying her. Why would he marry a woman he'd slept with while married? If she was willing to have an affair with a married man, then there was no way she would remain faithful to him.

“I know it's early, but can I interest you into going to bed with me?”

Deanna moved closer, anchoring her arms under Spencer's shoulders. “I don't know, lover. I may need some convincing.”

Gathering her hem of her sweatshirt, Spencer searched for a firm breast, gently squeezing it until the nipple hardened against the lace cup of her bra. “How's that?” he rasped in her ear.

A dreamy smile softened Deanna's features. “It's nice.”

“Just nice?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Maybe you need more convincing,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Deanna caught her husband's lip between her teeth, suckling it. “I think I do.” This was the husband she'd missed: the teasing, prolonged foreplay. Lately, their lovemaking was intense, frenetic. Spencer pushed into her, pumped like a crazy man, then as soon as he came he'd roll off and fall asleep.

One of the reasons she'd married Spencer Tyson was because she'd fallen in love with him
and
the sex had been incredible. He was as exciting to look at completely nude as he was when he made love to not only her body but also her mind. He was able to make her forget every man she'd known or slept with.

Deanna had confessed to something she'd never told anyone—and that included her mother. She didn't know why she'd told Marisol and Bethany about cheating on Spencer, but decided she'd carried the guilt long enough and had had to unburden herself.

The guilt had returned, but this time it had a name and face. John had cautioned her to carry on with her life as if she'd never met Richard Douglas, but Deanna wondered how long she could keep up the pretense that her life was as rosy as a 1950s family sitcom. That every problem or crisis would be solved within the thirty-minute time slot.

“Maybe I do need a tad bit more convincing.” She needed Spencer to make love to her, if only to forget what had happened earlier that afternoon.

Going to his knees, Spencer untied the drawstring to her sweatpants, pushing them down her hips and legs. Pressing his face against the triangle of silk, he inhaled her essence. “You smell sweet, baby.”

Women he'd slept with refused to understand why he wouldn't put his face between their legs, but what they didn't know was that most intimate act was reserved exclusively for his wife. Sliding his hands under the narrow waistband to her bikini panties, he eased them down, smiling. Deanna had talked about having her pubic area waxed, and it was apparent she had followed through. Running his fingertips over the neatly shorn hair, Spencer pressed a kiss there.

“Please, Spencer.” His name came out a quivering whisper when the tip of his tongue grazed Deanna's clitoris. He knew exactly what to do to arouse her as a rush of moisture bathed her throbbing core. She was pleading with him to penetrate her, but he was in no hurry to engage in the frantic coupling of their recent lovemaking. She pleaded, afraid that she was going to climax before she felt Spencer inside her.

Deanna forced herself to think of any-and everything else but the throbbing pleasure threatening to take her beyond herself. From the very first time she and Spencer shared a bed, Deanna couldn't remember a time when she didn't want him. Even when they disagreed vehemently about something she'd wanted to lie beside him at night. Whenever he came home late, or didn't come home at all because he and the other attorneys were preparing for trial, when she woke to find herself alone loneliness would weigh on her like a stone.

Spencer was her husband, partner, lover and occasionally her roommate. Legally they were connected, yet there were
times when they were physically disconnected and Deanna didn't know what to do to bring them closer together.

Spencer had eased her down to the carpeted floor, his hands cupping her hips as he continued his sensual assault. It was as if he hadn't eaten in days and his intent was to gorge himself because he didn't know when he would be able to eat again.

Deanna closed her eyes, her head thrashing from side to side and praying for the torture to end. “Love me, baby,” she pleaded. “Please love me.”

Spencer pressed a kiss to his wife's inner thigh before he moved up her body and claimed her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. He inhaled the familiar fragrance stamped on her silken skin like a permanent tattoo. Even if he were blindfolded he would be able to pick out Deanna in a darkened room with a hundred women.

Within minutes their clothes were strewn over the deep pile of the pale blue-gray carpeting, Deanna's sweatshirt and pants providing a barrier between her naked hips and the carpet. The first and only time they'd made love on a carpet, she'd been left with rug burns on her hips and back. Grasping his penis, Spencer stroked it, his gaze fixed on his wife's face as she watched him until he'd achieved a full erection. The sex may have been good with Jenah, but that's all it was—sex. He screwed his mistresses, but made love to his wife. She lifted her head and he rubbed the head of his penis over her mouth, grinning when she licked the tiny drop of secretion on the tip.

Deanna opened her legs wider and she wasn't disappointed when Spencer guided his erection between her thighs and penetrated her, both sighing in unison. It had been much too long since they'd shared a tender moment of lovemaking. Lifting her hips, she met his slow, strong thrusts. Then she
lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. After that everything ceased to exist. She forgot about her clients, the man who'd attempted to blackmail her into sleeping with him and her empty womb. Nothing mattered except that she had gotten her husband back—if only for a few minutes.

A moan of ecstasy slipped through her parted lips when Deanna felt passion inch its way up and down her body, heating her blood. She was hot, then cold, and hot again. Then she rose to meet Spencer in a moment of uncontrolled and overwhelming passion that left her temporarily mute.

The hardened flesh sliding in and out of her body sent spirals of ecstasy washing over her until she felt as if she were drowning in a pleasure so intense that it scorched both her mind and body. “Oh, baby,” she crooned over and over until it became a litany.

Spencer smiled. “Is it good, baby?” he asked, quickening his motions until Deanna's breasts danced liked buoys in rough seas.

“Yes! Yes!”

“It's so good to me, too.” Spencer had lied. It was better than good. It was spectacular. Every time he made love to Deanna he was reminded of how much he loved her. “Oh, shit!” he gasped when the muscles in her pelvis gripped him like a vise, holding him fast. They eased for a nanosecond before they gripped his penis again, this time tighter and much longer.

“You like that, don't you?” Deanna crooned in Spencer's ear. A guttural sound was his response. She'd practiced Kegel exercises ceaselessly until her pelvic muscles were strong enough to stop urination, while enhancing sexual responsiveness. She squeezed him again. “Am I hurting you, baby?”

“No…no,” Spencer stuttered as his scrotum tightened. “Damn!” he screamed when she squeezed him tight enough
to stop him from coming. The pleasurable torture went on until he felt himself slipping away. The next time Deanna released the vise on his penis, Spencer grasped her buttocks, holding her while he pumped his hips, thrusting faster and harder until the dam broke and he ejaculated, semen exploding like the back draft from a jet engine. Her moans filled his ears when the muscles in her vagina contracted again, this time from multiple orgasms.

They lay together, waiting for their hearts to resume a normal rhythm. Spencer still hadn't been able to figure out why he cheated on her with other women, because there wasn't anything Deanna had done to send him into another woman's bed. He had tried analyzing why he was an unfaithful husband when he'd never been an unfaithful boyfriend or fiancé. It had taken weeks, months of reflection and the only thing he'd been able to come up with was the time he and Deanna had had that explosive argument and she'd stayed out all night. She'd punished him, and he'd punished her—over and over again. He'd planned to see Jenah, but then changed his mind when the annoying woman said they had to talk—about a future together.