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"It means son of a bitch." I lay a hand on my forehead. "We cannot do this."
"Come on." Pure frustration rings in her voice. "Getting me worked up and yanking the rug out from under me again? After the way you sprinted out of my bedroom last night? Not cool, Rory. Not cool at all."
"I believe you're mixing several metaphors."
"Screw metaphors." She raps her wee fist on my chest. "Show a little respect, or at least common courtesy. I'm your wife, not your concubine."
I knife a hand through my hair. "I didn't—You're right. I'm sorry, you deserve better, but you knew what I am when you agreed to our arrangement. You said you understood the terms."
"Thanks so much for reminding me."
Her sharp tone cuts into me more than I would've expected. I lurch backward, gesturing toward the garden door. "I'm sure you have other things to do. Twirling about on the lawn, perhaps."
"You saw me yesterday?"
"I did."
"That was spinning and skipping, not 'twirling about.' " She flaps a hand in the direction of my discarded caber. "Not any weirder than hurling giant sticks."
"The caber toss is a feat of strength and control. What purpose does spinning serve?"
"It's fun. And I was soaking up the sunshine." She takes a deep breath and throws her arms wide, just as she'd done yesterday on the lawn. "Why don't you come out and join me this time? Instead of peeping on me from the first-floor hallway."
"How did you know where I was?"
"Simple deduction. You were in your office, like always, and it's on the first floor. The office windows don't face the front lawn. To see me, you would've had to walk out into the hall."
I almost want to smile, though I shouldn't be surprised she figured that out. "My clever wife."
"Would you come for a walk with me?"
"Can't. I'll be spending the day at my office in Loch Fairbairn." I turn away and start to roll the caber toward the pile at the edge of the green.
Emery starts for the garden door, then hesitates on the threshold, glancing back at me. "Will I see you for dinner?"
I push the caber into the pile with the others. "Don't wait for me."
My wife slams the garden door behind her.
The door is difficult to maneuver, but I don't think she slammed it for that reason alone.
I go inside to change clothes, and as I steer the Mercedes down the drive, I stare into the rearview mirror. The shape of Emery watching from the ground-floor windows recedes from view.
*****
Emery releases a long string of wordless cries, her voice growing hoarse as the intensity of her climax gradually subsides and the final spasm clenches my cock. Her knees are hooked over my shoulders while I have my palms firmly on the mattress on either side of her body, hunched over while frozen with my cock still buried deeper inside her than ever before. I'd never tried this position before, but I like the way it feels, as if I've melded with her in a new and more meaningful way.
And it's turned me into an eejit who havers about how much I love fucking my wife. Bod an Donais.
Perspiration trickles down our bodies, and droplets tumble from my skin to land on her belly. The scent of sex permeates the air. The scent of her.
When Emery had rung me at my office in the village this afternoon, she wanted to know when I would be home for dinner. I told her, repeatedly, not to wait up for me. Despite arriving after ten o'clock, I found my wife still awake—and naked in bed. I discovered that fact when I sort of sneaked into her bedroom to check on whether she had indeed waited for me.
Not that I wanted her to do that. But I had a feeling the bloody-minded woman would wait.
I didn't give her a chance to chastise me for abandoning her yet again. I meant to seduce her, plain and simple, but something strange happened to me during the act. I started to feel a twinge of anxiety about whether she might be annoyed with me and for how long she'll put up with my behavior before she moves to a flat in the village. Will she do that? I shouldn't care, but I think the idea makes me…uneasy. To avoid thinking about that, I fucked her hard and deep, as if I were trying to shed all my neuroses inside her body.
She doesn't like us having separate bedrooms. I know that, but I can't change my nature overnight. Or ever.
