Tryst (Take It Off #8)
Author: Cambria Hebert

PROLOGUE

Talie

I hadn’t had sex in six months. Six months. I was practically a born-again virgin. I mean, seriously. They say when you get married, your sex life goes down the toilet¸ but I didn’t know who “they” were, and I thought for sure my sex life wouldn’t go downhill until I was some old lady.

I was not old.

And I kind of wanted to punch “they” in the face.

I’ll blame my aggression on sexual frustration.

Weren’t men supposed to be a bunch of horn-dogs? In my experience, they sure were. My husband and I used to have sex all the time, but it slowly began to dwindle and then it pretty much fell off the face of the earth.

But that was going to change. I was going to do something about it. The way I saw it, I could let my insides shrivel up from lack of pleasure, or I could take the bull by the horns (or penis).

Shriveling up didn’t sound so appealing so I took the afternoon off from work (no loss there) and decided to go home and set the stage for a night of getting it on. On my way, I stopped at the store and picked up some candles, a see-through hot-pink nightie, and some edible massage oil.

I let myself into the apartment and shut the door behind me. Just as I made it to the kitchen counter, I heard a sound.

A moan.

I set the bag on the counter, soundlessly, and cocked my head, listening. Another moan floated through the apartment, and I wrinkled my nose.

Had I left the TV on when I left for work this morning?

And if so, what the hell kind of daytime shows did they play these days?

I padded down the hallway, over the plush carpet, and stopped in front of my partially closed bedroom door.

The sounds of heavy breathing and the bouncing of a mattress were unmistakable.

I was really trying not to think bad thoughts.

Really.

But I mean… it smelled like sex out here. A deep, musky scent that clung to the air.

I laid my palm against the door and pushed it open, stepping slowly in the doorway.

It took me quite a few seconds to register what I was seeing. Shock rendered me motionless. All I could do was stand there and gape.

I hadn’t left the TV on this morning.

And now I knew why my husband hadn’t pleased me in the past six months.

He was too busy pleasing someone else. Someone who was not his wife.

They were so involved in the act that they didn’t even know I was there. So I watched them. This was my house. That was my bed. And frankly, a part of me thought I was dreaming.

The white combed-cotton sheets that I had shopped for diligently where all wound around the legs of the couple in the center of the king-sized bed. The pillows I lovingly picked out were all skewed from the thrusting and movement going on, and the dark-gray comforter was half falling off the bed and onto the floor.

There was a woman sitting on top of my husband. Her hair was very long and thick, the color of chestnuts, and it waved down her back wildly like they’d been at the deed for a while already. As I stared, she pushed up off him and sat up, titling her head back and letting out a very loud moan as she moved over him, grinding her body against his.

I watched as my husband reached up and grabbed her breasts, giving them a little squeeze and grunting with pleasure.

Pain sliced through my belly.

How could he do this to me? How could he tell me he loved me, ask me to spend the rest of my life with him, and then bring another woman home and into our bed?

The pain I felt might have been incapacitating, but it didn’t stay long enough. It was quickly replaced by anger. Hot, furious sparks ignited inside me and my feet began to move.

I walked farther into the room and stopped at the edge of the bed.

“Talie!” My husband gasped, shooting into a sitting position. The woman screwing my husband didn’t slide off of him. Instead, she buried her face into his naked chest, like she was trying to hide.

It pissed me off.

I reached out and grabbed a handful of that thick, luxurious hair and yanked her backward. “Get the hell off my husband, you dirty ho.”

She screeched as I pulled her back off his lap, revealing his proud member. I scowled and dumped her and her fake boobs on the floor.

“Talie, I can explain,” he said, pulling the blanket up to cover his manhood. He was probably nervous I might grab it like I grabbed Barbie’s hair.

I wasn’t touching that thing ever again.

And really… was that like every idiot’s favorite line? I can explain.

“You don’t need to explain. My eyes work just fine,” I snapped.

The girl scrambled up off the carpet and started gathering her clothes, which were tossed around my bedroom.

“I hope he satisfies you because he sure as hell never satisfied me,” I spat.

Her eyes widened and Blake (my cheating husband) began to sputter.

“Shut up,” I told him as I grabbed Barbie again and started towing her through the apartment toward the front door.

“I’m not dressed!” she screeched.

“What a shame.”

I flung open the door and shoved her out. She stood there in the center of the hallway, clutching her clothes against her naked chest. Her eyes narrowed and a mean look crossed her face.

“He told me you never made him happy.”

“You might wanna pay a visit to the surgeon who did your tits. They’re lopsided.” I slammed the door in her shocked face.

My chest was heaving and my hands were shaking when I turned around.

Blake was standing there, buttoning up a pair of black slacks. “Was that really necessary?”

At least he didn’t try to come up with some stupid-ass excuse. There was no excuse for him. And there was no excuse for why I married him, why I stayed in a marriage that was clearly never going to make me happy.

I opened the door once more. Thankfully, Barbie had already run off.

“Get out.”

He stared at me.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t stutter. I said get the hell out.”

“This is my apartment too,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, you can have it,” I replied calmly. “I’ll be gone in two hours.”

His arms dropped to his sides. “Where are you going to go?” Shock registered on his face, and I realized then that he didn’t respect me. He probably never did. He knew he would get caught eventually, but he thought I would stay. He thought I would put up with it.

He didn’t know me at all.

“It’s none of your business. Now get out before I start to scream.”

He came forward, stopping just in front of me. He reached up as if he were going to touch my face. I slapped his hand away. “I’ll be gone in two hours.”