She turned away from Lara and inspected her mail. Her wife, meanwhile, sat up and kicked her legs over the side of her lounge chair. “That’ll be all, Chloe,” she said curtly. “I’m sure you have other things to be doing.”And one of those things is not staring at my Kenny’s body.That was Lara’s job around those parts.
“No, wait a second, please.” Kennedy motioned for Chloe to come to her, where they conspired about something over by the bushes.What the?Lara jumped up, snatching her spouse’s towel from its lounge chair and wrapping it around her body.
Just as she was about to descend upon them and help, Kennedy shoved the package in Chloe’s hands and practically shovedhertoward the house.
“You know where to leave it,” she hissed.
Lara stopped.Oh, hell no.She watched Chloe scurry back into the mansion as if her ass were on fire.
“What was all that about? What was in the package?”
Kennedy wrapped a wet arm around her shoulders. Fuck off, this bathing suit isn’t supposed to get wet. She didn’t dare say that out loud. Her spouse would take that as an invitation to toss her into the pool.
“Nothing important, Bunny.” Her kiss on Lara’s cheek was facetious at best. “Boring shit for work that should’ve been sent to the downtown office.”
Lara narrowed her brows as her spouse slipped back into the pool and performed some languid backstrokes in the sunlight.If it were for work, she wouldn’t have talked about it with Chloe.That girl was so low on the staff totem pole that neither Kennedy nor Lara would talk more than five seconds to her. And that would be to give an order. Not… whatever Kennedy was saying to her in such a low voice that Lara never had a chance of hearing.
There was something funny going on in her house. Before, Lara drank herself into an afternoon stupor out of irrational fears. Now she wondered if those fears were rational after all.
If they were, then Kennedy could say goodbye to everything. She could get away with a lot of shit, but cheating on her wife – let alone falling in love with some nobody likeChloe– would mean her imminent downfall.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Lara mumbled, heading back into the house. First, a mimosa on the balcony upstairs. She could better admire her wife’s athleticism from there. It may very well be the last time she bothered before the messiest divorce of the decade.
Chapter 4
“Show Her No Mercy.”
The windshield wipers squeaked as the car ascended the next hill. Lara opened her compact, a light glaring against her mirror and preventing her from touching up her lipstick.
Just as well, for Kennedy hit the same pothole every time they went to the mountains.
“That was almost a disaster,” Lara said, putting her compact and lipstick back in her purse. “One of these days, I’ll learn that you barely know how to drive.”
Kennedy turned the high beams back on after passing another car. “Yet you let me drive you everywhere. And have yet to divorce me.”
She was being facetious, but Lara didn’t have much patience for it. “Just don’t kill us before we can get laid.”
“I love how you always speak of us as a single unit.”
“Why not? Everyone else does.” Lara wasn’t immune to the comments she heard around the club and other socialspheres. Everyone called them “the Anderssens” because Lara very conveniently changed her name after getting married.Who wouldn’t?When you were bornLara Losers, you changed your last name when you married, whether the other person was named Griswold or Habbernacky.
Lara Giselle Anderssen. She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror and patted the top of her bun.That’s what I look like. The more she thought about divorce recently, the more she wondered what she would do about her name. Besides keep it, of course.Wouldn’t that get confusing?Sure, it was lazy and convenient to stay an Anderssen. She could always change it in her next marriage, if there was one.
Funny. She thought about divorce, she even thought about her spouse remarrying and shrugging over it, but the thought of remarrying a brand-new person?I would spend the rest of my life comparing them to Kennedy. Lara glanced at her spouse. Kennedy was absorbed in her own world of staying on the road.
They were heading up to Le Manoir, a regular destination of theirs regardless of the time of year or how they felt deep inside. In fact, Lara would go as far as to say they were the biggest regulars at the local BDSM brothel.Excuse me. House of pleasure.
How long had it been since Lara first exchanged money for kinky services? A year? It was the natural course of her marriage. When they first heard about the Manoir not so long ago, they talked at length about what they wanted out of it. A cursory inspection told them that it was tasteful, safe, and discreet. A more thorough exam revealed that the ladies working there were professionals of the chameleon variety. They could be any type of woman you paid them to be. Dommes, subs, sweet, sassy, bratty… if a solo flyer or discerning couple wanted nothing more than a warm body to play with, that could be arranged behind the scenes as well. Of course, on paper, the women there onlytraded dirty words and smacks of the whip for money and gifts. Intercourse and oral pleasure were off the record.
Kennedy and Lara weresooff the record by now that their mistress, Grace, knew exactly what to expect. While not expecting anything at all, because Lara was always thinking up something new to do.
They arrived shortly before eight, when the real parties began at the Manoir. Indeed, two other guests were there, although Lara did not recognize their cars out front. Nor did she garner anything from the coats hanging up in the front hall, where Grace came to meet them for their appointment.
“Let me take that for you, Madam,” she said sweetly, running her hands across Lara’s shoulders before ripping off her coat. “It’s so good to see you once again.”
My partner’s tastes in action. Kennedy picked this girl out for them months ago, and since then, she and her wife became Grace’s primary patrons, a title bestowed upon only the lucky few. Being Grace’s patrons meant they could monopolize her time, take her out on dates like to the club, and expect certain services to always be available. Like sex. Lots and lots of sex that Grace did not always give freely to other clients who purchased her time.
Grace could not look more different from Lara, however. For one, she had long, coarse dark hair she always kept parted to one side. She was petite, with thin legs propped up by stiletto heels and a waist that made one either salivate or seethe in jealousy. Her breasts were about the same size as Lara’s, but sported tiny brown nipples, whereas Lara admired her own thick, pink ones that her spouse could never stop sucking when they made love in a position that allowed it.She rarely sucks Grace’s nipples as much. Lara smiled at the thought as she accepted her usual glass of Chardonnay from Grace’s lithe hands.
