Seven Years of Bad Luck (3 page)

Kathleen Cooper, get a grip on yourself. PRONTO!

I looked up again from my book whose name I could not even remember. He shot a full smile in my direction, a smile which was, of course, a battering ram against my defenses. The reinstated inner voice of reason that had eluded me for years was back in effect.

I have his number; I know his game. I won’t give in. I won’t give in
, I chanted inwardly.

I gave him the phoniest, plastered-on smile I could, and he picked up on it instantly. His eyebrows furrowed only slightly before he quickly smoothed away any telling expressions that would reveal him. He knew my smile was forced, and he sensed the nervous tension pouring out of me.

“Hello, my love. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Hearing his voice sent a tingle up my spine.

Shit!

“Hey, how was your trip?” I was going for neutral ground in hopes of derailing any of his plans for the night. I could see that look in his eyes as he gave me an up-and-down gaze that dripped of his intentions. He made no effort to hide it either.

“My flight was fine, and the trip went well. I am sure glad to be home, though.” I pressed on with my shield-o-scorned woman in place.

“Want some coffee?”

So far, so good
, I thought to myself.

“No, what I want—I already have, and she’s sitting right in front of me.” I glanced up at him and saw the most mischievous look on his face as he leaned back on the sofa across from me.

Oh, damn—spoke too soon.

“Come sit with me.” He gave his thigh a pat with his hand indicating where he wanted me. I scrambled around in my stupid brain for a lifeline and came up with nothing.

Shit, damn, shit!

I hated this man for being so irresistible to me. He easily wielded his pull over me to manipulate my willpower, and it almost always infuriated me as soon as I was able to think straight again.

“Um,my cup is empty, I’m going to grab a refill.”

I could tell I was screwed, both figuratively and literally. Aidan smirked, his way of laying his cards on the table and letting me know that he was aware of my pathetic attempt to fight him off and that he was ready to charm his way in. Seeing that smirk also reminded me that Aidan enjoyed the challenge and was looking forward to the hunt to get me into bed and back to following his every command like a sad little puppy. I used to be just as confident as he was. I used to be brazen, strong-willed, and opinionated. I don’t even know when the old Kathleen died, much less realized she was on her way out. Had I known what was becoming of me, I think I would have fought; I think the true Kathleen would have refused to be snuffed out. I think I ignored the loss of my true self until recently, and when I realized the horrific truth, I found myself mourning for the death of the person I used to be. I liked who I was. I liked being a strong, determined woman. I was who I was, take it or leave it, and whether a person liked me or not, I slept just fine at night.

Years had passed with Aidan and that Kathleen had long since been replaced with a new me. The Kathleen that I found myself looking at in the mirror was someone that I disliked so very much. I have always felt like a person’s self-worth is invaluable, and the sad truth is I not only allowed Aidan to rob me of my self-worth, I practically handed it over, lock, stock and barrel. I became inwardly bitter and resentful towards him, but mostly towards myself for being such a fake. I had dismissed my dreams and aspirations. I had held my tongue when I usually wouldn’t have. This Kathleen was not at all me, and I despised the pathetic excuse for a woman I had become. I hated her for being weak. I hated her for caring too much. I hated her for even existing. I felt short-changed, betrayed, not just by Aidan, but also by my own treasonous self for allowing me to become some sacrificial lamb with a slit throat, bleeding out its life source with each passing second. Aidan’s betrayals and affairs had hurt, but nothing hurt me more than the realization that I had long ago given up on being myself. I had quit fighting, and worse—I had bought into the bullshit that my life was fine and that I was happy. Aidan didn’t do the convincing; he didn’t really have to. I did. He simply bid, played his hand, and watched me bluff myself into oblivion.

As I walked back into the living room after getting coffee, I saw Aidan sitting comfortably on the couch with his suit jacket off, tie undone and set aside, and his fresh white dress shirt unbuttoned to halfway down his chest. I made eye contact with him, which was a monumental mistake on my part because his eyes screamed “come hither.” He didn’t have to utter a word; he had me so under his thumb that my hand set down my coffee mug, much to my brain’s protest.

Pathetic zombie lady
, I taunted myself inwardly, knowing precisely where the night was going.

I approached him on the couch and shuffled onto his lap. He swept the palm of his hands down my sides sending a shiver through me. “I’ve missed you.” He has always been so good at whispering just the right thing in just the right way into my ear, sending stealthy words slithering right through my ear canal into my brain, turning it into instant pudding
. Security breach
is what I called that. With my defenses down, he knew he was able to make me submit. I was a pliable mass of female hormones who had a one track mind when I was in Aidan’s grasp. I was so easily dragged into his web of seduction. Fighting against it would only drive him to continue, and I would be more entangled in his web. I submitted to him as I always did.

I didn’t even bother trying to speak. I had learned enough by now that avoiding stuttering and stammering like an incoherent moron was well worth keeping my mouth shut. Trying to argue with his sex appeal was so beyond stupid that even my feeble pudding mush brain knew to just keep quiet. I knew the routine all too well after seven years together. Mouth shut, legs open, brain liquefied, same old song and dance. I kissed him back when he put his hand on the nape of my neck and pulled me to him. My lips touched his and all plans of resisting him flew out of the window. I wiggled on his lap to get more comfortable and then unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. I removed his cuff links, set them aside, and leaned into him.

We were chest to chest and face to face. I could smell his scent, and that made my liquefied brain evaporate. Leaning in closer to his neck, I ran my nose across his skin taking in his sensual scent like a drug. We didn’t speak. Aidan had both of his hands gripping my hips as he pulled me tightly against him. His lust-filled eyes stayed on me. I could feel his arousal beneath me, and I was fully intoxicated with him. I was so drawn to him physically that he rarely had to do much of anything at all to get me beneath him. We were terrible with our marriage, but we always did intimacy really, really well. It was the medicine that alleviated our ailing commitment.

He sat on the couch with me in his lap watching the magic he conjured work me over on his behalf. I was like a sex zombie, a woman with one need, one desire driving her actions. My desire was currently planted under my undulating hips. Aidan dug his fingers into my hips and rocked our hungry bodies towards each other. He pressed his erection against me through the fabric that separated us. In a frantic daze of need for his body to be on me, in me, and around me, I slid his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it to the side. I leaned forward and peppered his shoulders, neck and chest with soft kisses and gentle nips from my teeth. He groaned as I worked him into a fever pitch. I cupped his head in my hands and kissed him hard then trailed off to his ear lobe. He let out a groan that sent my need for him into overdrive. I slid off his lap while holding his heated gaze. He leaned forward from the couch were he sat, lifted my shirt to my breasts and pressed his lips to my stomach just below my navel.

I stood between his knees while he remained seated. He easily removed my pants while I slipped off my shirt. I stood before him in only my bra and panties while he held a firm grip on my hip with one hand and his other hand softly danced up the inside of my leg, beginning at my calf and ending at the sensitive junction between my thighs. I was all too eager to have him. In a few easy movements, Aidan stripped me of my bra and panties and had me sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. He nudged my legs apart then perched my heels on the couch cushion in front of me. My legs caged him. I couldn’t wait any longer. He had me hungry and desperate to have him, shit marriage be damned. He smirked as he lowered himself down on his knees. He kissed the inside of my leg starting at my knee and worked his way up, then back down the other. He came back to my center and ran a long finger through my wet folds, causing me to let out a needy moan.

“Please,” I begged of him. He grinned arrogantly at his handy work.

“That’s my girl.” Before I could beg him any further, his mouth landed on my hot, wet center, and I gasped as I let my head fall back. His tongue slid over my flesh and lazily stroked my sensitive center. His tongue plunged into me over and over, then he turned his attention to my throbbing clitoris. He stroked me there in a circular motion, then slid two long fingers into me. He worked me over for what felt like a minute or two before I shuttered and quivered with his face between my thighs expertly drawing out my orgasm. Aidan sat back on our couch and waited for what he knew I would do next. As soon as I came down from bliss I got down to my knees and made quick work of getting his dress pants off of him, but first I crouched a bit to take off those gleaming Oxfords of his. I took off the left shoe and sock first, then promptly went over to the right. I needed those pants off soon, or I would combust. I could see his chest rising and falling with his rapid breath, his eyes locked onto me watching every move I made. His erection pressed against his pants and boxer briefs, waiting to be freed. I tugged off the right shoe, and he raised his foot slightly to allow me to remove his sock, and that’s when something caught my attention. My eyes zeroed in on something stuck to the bottom of his right sock. It was small, shiny and metallic looking. At the sight of it, I felt lightning course through my body, instantly reviving my hibernating brain, and with what felt like a clap of thunder reverberating through my ears, I jerked the sock off his foot. I instantly stood, incriminating sock in hand, leaned forward over him with wide eyes, heart pounding furiously, my stomach dropping when I made eye contact with him. The feeling is eerily similar to being punched hard in the gut and instantly made me want to double over and vomit.

“Should I even entertain any explanation for this shit, or should I just cram the evidence down your throat and let you choke on it?” His eyes grew wide, and his skin instantly paled. Tell-tale signs of a busted cheater. I may have become a hollow, poor excuse for the woman I used to be, but one perk of being married to a man like Aidan was I had become a human lie detector. There was no getting past me. I could read a person with ease. I was forced to hone this skill into a reliable tool over the years.

“What are you talking about Kathleen? If you’re looking for a fight tonight, you’re going to have to take it elsewhere because I’m exhausted and I’m in no mood to deal with any of your shit!” I snatched up my clothes from the floor and dressed in a record time. I had to give him credit for the nearly believable attitude he was putting out. Good thing I always dismissed his mouth when I had to confront him, or anytime it was moving really.

“You’re a real piece of work, Aidan. So what number is this one? Good job using protection, though. Safety first!” I was a few notches above sarcastic and teetering on full-fledged taunting.

“I mean, seeing part of the foil condom wrapper clinging to bottom of your sock? It’s stuck there along with all the other dirt and scum you step in like a nasty little secret. It is so beyond ironic don’t you think?” I stood in front of him with his sock in one hand while my other hand moved all about with animated hand gestures. He was temporarily speechless, and I could see his brain working at an explanation and/or a distraction.

“You are so damned determined to catch me doing something wrong! I could have picked that up on my sock anywhere.” The moment that poorly formed and rather unbelievable explanation slipped out of his mouth, I could tell he wanted to kick himself for it.

“Wow, you’re losing your edge, my dear. For someone who has been extremely successful, thanks to his smarts and killer instincts, you can’t seem to be smart enough to avoid getting caught cheating. At any rate it doesn’t really matter because I’m done.” I tossed the sock at him. Aidan looked at me warily and began gathering the clothes he had shed while I stood before him with my arms crossed casually.

“Let me clue you in, Aidan. You have spent nearly our entire marriage screwing around behind my back, and you have caused me terrible pain. While you were off sampling the female population out in California, I had a small revelation.” I whispered the last part of the sentence, feigning shock and awe.

“I realized that I am just as shattered as our marriage, and I can’t stand the sight of you because of what you’ve done, and I can’t stand the sight of me because I stuck around and let it happen. I’m done.” I stayed put in front of him with my arms crossed, and I made sure to keep up a cool exterior. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes on me.

“So you can take your dirty socks and get the hell out. I’m done with being the mindless little peon wife living in the shadows.” I turned away from him and slipped on my flip flops then turned back to him.

“Oh and Aidan, don’t worry about not having me to keep your bed warm, you will always have that huge-ass ego of yours to keep you company.”

He sat back down on the couch with his mouth gaping wide in shock at my words, and I didn’t even allow him the opportunity to respond before I spun around, snatched my purse, and headed out of our the front door with thoughts of winners’ circles, champagne, confetti and Cheyenne on my mind. I couldn’t help but think about my seven years with him being nothing but bad luck. Like a curse of sorts. I asked myself what I could have possibly done to deserve this.