Hatred. Hidden. Read online

He sucked in his gut, pressed out his chest, and stood shoulder width apart. The roses were skilfully hidden behind his back and he waited patiently for the front door to be opened. Lucy’s sultry voice could be heard from the living room; he had to force his face to stay serious, but that was proving difficult.

  His wife’s petite face eyed him through the door’s glass with a hint of suspicion. ‘What are you ringing the bell for, silly?’ she asked as she pulled open the door slowly. She leaned against the corner of the door, propping her weight on it with her bare foot keeping the door still. He knew she was hinting at him, again, that the bloody thing needed re-varnishing.

  ‘I have a surprise for you.’

  He deliberately made her wait. The electricity between them made his stomach ache. Even after fifteen years of marriage, no flirty florist could pull him away from Lucy, not even a racy Australian accent. Lucy’s eyes tightened and she pouted. The fine indent of crow’s feet wasn’t a sign of old age in his eyes, but more a banner of experience. She thinks I’m playing a game. She pressed her chin to her chest and blinked puppy dog eyes at him.

  ‘OK. You’ve got me,’ he surrendered.

  ‘You always fall for that look. Eyelashes get you every time!’

  Mark swung both hands round and presented the flowers to his wife. ‘I love you.’

  Lucy giggled, carefully taking the roses. She pressed her button nose into the gift-wrapped bouquet. ‘What are these for, you soppy sod?’

  She’s perfect, Mark thought. Beautiful figure, gorgeous personality, and best of all, his. Her smile was infectious and he watched her intently. ‘A cheeky excuse for me to see that yummy smile of yours,’ he said, stepping into the doorway and locking his lips against hers. He guided her backwards through the hall. ‘Ooh you get me so excited,’ he groaned as he pulled away.

  ‘Well, if you want me,’ she nibbled on the end of his nose, ‘you’ll have to catch me.’

  He admired the wiggle of her behind as she ran through the magnolia hallway and into the open plan kitchen, tiptoeing around the central work-surfaces.

  ‘You are a tease!’

  She tittered and ran around the cupboards just as he circled towards her. He wanted to reclaim his prize, but she twirled and twirled, and no matter how hard he tried, Mark always found himself on the opposite side of the marble top. She really is a tease, the little minx.

  Both husband and wife breathed heavily in sync with one another. Mark couldn’t keep his gaze off her. ‘I want you,’ he whispered, knowing just how cheesy it sounded and not caring one bit.

  Lucy replied in action, slowly unbuttoning her pale blouse, one button after another, taking as much time as she wanted. He caught a glimpse of pink lingerie. ‘Look what you are missing out on, standing all the way over there.’

  Mark hardened; he wasted no time and lunged over the marble island, trapping his wife inside long muscular arms. With a tilt of her neck with his face, he growled into her ear, caressing the lobe with a quivering tongue. He followed a trail, down past her shoulders, over her chest, finally stopping on his knees and planting fast pecks across her navel.

  The bouquet of roses dropped to the floor beside him in a dash of colour. Lucy thrusted his head and face against her body. The goosebumps along her arms excited him further. Mark cusped some of the petals; starting at her bellybutton, he stroked his wife’s body with the supple petals and relished in her moans, smelling her saccharine skin as he ventured upwards. The cloudy stretchmarks on her sides and the bottom of her torso brought back the memories of a sexually active pregnancy for both of them. Nine years had passed since then, but he wasn’t put off by their obviousness. They represented another notch to her name: wife, lover, mother, provider. He loved them all in equal measure.

  Lucy forced another slippery kiss before leading her husband upstairs into the bedroom. She took control, and piece by piece, she ripped his clothes off his body. Her animalistic urges surprised him a little, especially as she tore open his shirt, taking no care whatsoever with the buttons. But her teeth against his nipples sent tingles down his legs and he threw the shirt across the room. He catapulted back onto the kingsize bed and Lucy fumbled with his shoes and socks. No man in the history of the world, he thought, ever looked sexy trying to remove their socks and shoes. But at least removing him from his trousers brought the fun right back.

  With only his boxer shorts left, Lucy kept his gaze by removing the last of her own underclothing and straddled on top of him. Her fingernails over his chest were sharp, but added tantalising contrast to her grinding in his lap, his arms thrust behind his head. A slight wetness soaked through his boxers; he surrendered to the lust completely. He whipped them off without a second thought and gasped as she sat back atop and slipped him inside.

  They rocked back and forth, Lucy allowing her husband to caress her breasts. The thrill of the grind and the concentration he put into rubbing his thumbs over her hard, dark nipples was enough to bring him to climax almost instantly, but he breathed and tilted his hips into the bed to slow Lucy down.

  But as they locked eyes, their connection deepened, and a tidal rush overcame him. As quickly as they had started, they both held one another close, enjoying the comfort of each other’s heartbeat. The world outside could wait; this was their time, and neither Lucy nor Mark allowed any interruption to bother them. Give me five minutes, he thought, and then I’m going to ravish you properly.