through to the kitchen and mixes his usual (whisky, a dash of water, no ice). ‘This credit crunch is killing us,’ he calls. ‘Another two of the big US
banks just wrote down huge losses. We can forget about bonuses again this— Oh. Jenna. I didn’t realize you were here.’
‘Hi, Marc.’
I swing my legs down to make room for him next to me on the settee. He doesn’t sit down.
‘I need to talk to you,’ he says curtly.
‘What about?’
‘Do you mind if we go upstairs and discuss it?’
‘We’re watching
Sex and the City
,’ Jenna says.
Marc scowls. I put down my glass. ‘It’s OK, Jenna. I’ll see you in the morning.’
‘Doesn’t she know to take a hint?’ Marc hisses furiously as we go upstairs. ‘It’s after ten o’clock! When do we get to spend any time alone?’
‘Sssh! She’ll hear you. Be fair, Marc. You’ve only just got home. She was keeping me company.’
‘Well, she needs to learn when to give us some privacy.’
Emboldened by the wine, I slide my arms round his waist. ‘Why,’ I murmur, ‘would we need privacy?’
He stiffens. I’m quite sure he’s about to push me away; and then, suddenly, the tension leaches out of him and he pulls me close. ‘Mrs Elias,’ he whispers thickly into my
hair, ‘you’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.’
I’ve missed you too
.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, the warm haziness of the wine gives way to a sharp, greedy hunger. I grab his face between my palms and kiss him: a hot, grinding kiss that crushes his lips against his
teeth.
I want my husband inside me
, that kiss says.
I want him to fuck me
now.
Marc falls backwards on to the bed, pulling me on top of him. His answering erection presses into my stomach. He yanks up my skirt and tugs aside my knickers, fingers probing roughly between my
legs. I grope for his belt buckle, freeing his penis. He’s pulling my T-shirt over my head, scooping my heavy breasts from my bra. My nipples tingle, and a few drops of milk leak on to his
chest. He catches one swaying breast, sucking hungrily.
Slipperiness gushes between my thighs. I guide him inside me and ride him hard, rearing back to take him in even deeper.
Moments later, Marc flips me abruptly over on to my back, and thrusts furiously. My orgasm breaks over me with such speed, I’m gasping for air. He comes within seconds and collapses
against my chest. He hasn’t even taken off his shirt.
By the time I remember to ask what he wanted to talk about, he’s already asleep.
I smile secretively as I go downstairs for breakfast, raw and throbbing in all the right places.
Jenna is feeding the twins their morning gruel: baby rice mixed with expressed breast milk. She glances up as I come into the kitchen, but doesn’t smile. She looks tired and rather fed
up.
I put on a pot of coffee, as Jenna seems to have forgotten this morning. ‘You’re up early.’
‘It’s eight-fifteen,’ Jenna says tightly.
I flush guiltily. ‘I didn’t realize. Marc must have turned the baby monitor off when he got up for work. Jenna, I’m really, really sorry.’ I reach for the breakfast bowl.
‘Let me do that—’
She snatches it away. ‘We’re up now.’
‘I’ll pay you overtime,’ I promise. ‘Or you can take some time off instead if you like?’
She finishes feeding the twins and makes a big production out of scraping the bowl into the waste disposal. She’s really annoyed with me. It can’t just be the early start, can it?
Oh, God. I don’t want her to take it out on the twins. Or supposing she quits and hands in her notice? I can’t manage without her, I can’t go back to—
‘Actually, Clare,’ Jenna says suddenly, turning round, ‘I’m going out tonight, so I will finish early and take some time off, if that’s OK. About five? It’ll
give me time to get ready and do my hair.’
I’d meant to stay late at PetalPushers, to go over the books with Craig and see if we can get to the bottom of the
Jan (ILT) J. C.; Gerardi Greenburg