Chapter 44: Marital Strife

Tuesday, 11:40 am

I face-planted into the firm cushion underneath me, my nose buried into foam rubber and coated in a small puddle of sweat as the smell similar to ‘new car’ filled my nostrils.

“Good job,” I heard Tara say, and I rolled my head to the side to look up at the Olympically fit supermodel figure crouching next to me. She stared down at me with those bright brown eyes, smiling a small, crooked smile. Wisps of hair that had fallen from her bun fell around her face, framing it like clouds parting around an angelic being.

My groin ground into the foam rubber as I admired her beauty, an attempt at involuntary self-flagellation of my own hardon. It simply wasn’t fair that my personal trainer was one of the hottest women I’d ever seen. Besides her face, she wore a sports bra and a pair of spandex leggings that showed off every lean curve of her physique and displayed her perfectly sculpted midsection, complete with perfect, sun-kissed skin.

She was walking perfection.

And she was a lesbian. Like I said. It simply wasn’t fair.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling embarrassed at being near the end of my rope only thirty minutes into my workout routine. I’d said I wanted serious results, but this felt like she was going too far. Was it possible her routine was tainted with a little bit of misandry?

“Ugh,” I said and let my head hit the floor.

“Aw. C’mon,” Tara said with just a hint of amusement. “You can’t tell me the assessment wore you out so much.”

“Nah,” I said into the foam rubber. “Not the assessment.”

“Not getting enough sleep then?” she asked. “You’re gonna need to change that if you wanna train properly.”

“I technically got seven hours,” I said.

A moment passed, and then she said, “Ah ... think I can have a good guess, then.”

“Oh?” I asked and rolled my head back to look up at her again. “What do you think it is, then?”

“Oh,” Tara said, looking past me and toward the door. “Reasons.”

I looked in the direction Tara was gazing and saw Erin and Bobbi standing just inside the doorway. Erin was wearing an outfit similar to Tara’s, while Bobbi was wearing a pair of tight yoga pants and a t-shirt that displayed a picture of a cat knocking a mug off a table that read ‘not today.’ It would have been appropriate for the collar she was wearing that had read ‘Kitten’ for the last several days, but Erin and I had taken the opportunity to change it to display ‘Anal Slut’ while we were discussing the state of her backdoor virginity.

Glancing back at Tara, I saw her still staring at the pair, just a little too long and a little too hard, and I couldn’t blame her.

Even though she looked a little worse for wear, Bobbi still looked fuckable in a messy way. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and even though there were dark circles under her eyes, that generous mouth looked like it could do so many amazing things to a cock. Or a cunt ... in Tara’s case.

Erin looked even more delicious, showing off her impossibly narrow midriff, skin just a shade or two darker than Tara’s, and slender, svelte frame.

I recognized that look on my trainer’s face. She would have jumped in bed with either of them given half a chance. Given half a chance, so would Erin. I would have given less than half.

“Yeah,” I finally said, my voice probably a little more smug than I’d intended. “I guess we got a pre-workout last night.”

“I can see that,” Tara muttered. “Looks like Bobbi got the worst end of it.”

“We definitely put her through her paces,” I grunted as I stood up, making sure I was loud enough for the pair to hear. I normally wouldn’t have been so blatant around a professional like Tara, but something about having Bobbi there seemed to instill a boldness in me that otherwise wouldn’t exist. She fueled the aggressive part of my sexuality and made me say some things that I wouldn’t have under different circumstances.

I approached the pair of them standing in the doorway, enjoying the way they watched me approach. Erin was grinning like a fool at the game I was playing. Bobbi’s lips were parted, her expression neutral and pupils dilated as she tracked my movements. I ignored my assistant in favor of my sub as I closed the distance between us.

Cupping a cheek in one hand, I leaned close. Bobbi started to pull away out of sheer reflex, and I slid my hand around to the back of her head, pulling her back toward me. Our lips met for a soft, sweet kiss that turned firmer and more heated as the seconds ticked by, and after about fifteen, I pulled back and looked her in the eyes.

Then I pulled her close so my lips were just beside her ear. My free hand slid around to her tight ass and pulled her against me, whispering, “She wants you, kitten.”

Her breath caught a little at my words.

“And if I tell her she can have you, she will.” I kissed her ear softly. “Remember that while you’re training with her.”

Pulling away, I released the back of Bobbi’s head and reached over to pull Erin closer, wrapping my arm around her tiny waist. When the three of us were so close that there was almost no daylight between us, my assistant attacked my lips with hers. The kiss we shared was a blazing furnace of wanton desire and lust that lasted another twenty seconds or so.

When we parted, Erin turned her head to look at Bobbi, who was still staring at me. When she failed to capture my sub’s attention, Erin reached up and placed a couple of fingers on Bobbi’s jaw and forced her to look into her brown eyes as they met for a kiss of their own. I lowered my head to Erin’s shoulder and planted little kisses along her bare brown skin, listening to the sounds of their lips and tongues caressing.

I hadn’t intended on giving Tara this kind of show, but goddamn was I enjoying it.

Kissing my way up Erin’s neck, I whispered in her ear, “Tara doesn’t get to have you. Not without my permission. Tease her as much as you want. Touch her ... give her those looks I love so much. Nothing else. If it drives you too crazy, you come find me, or you can use Bobbi. Nothing goes near her ass, though.”

My words had an immediate reaction; Erin’s hips pressed into me, and she whimpered into Bobbi’s mouth as they continued to kiss. Through it all, she gave a slight nod, confirming that she understood and that she would obey.

Eventually, the three of us parted, and I adjusted the hardon in my shorts before turning around. I wanted to take Erin back to my room and fuck her, but both of us had things we needed to do. Besides ... I was hungry for more than sex after the workout I’d just had.

“I’m gonna get a shower and grab a bite to eat,” I said to Tara. “They’re all yours.”

“Sounds good,” Tara said, her voice sounding a little thicker than what I’d grown accustomed to hearing over the last half hour. “Same time tomorrow.”

After I left the ladies in Tara’s capable hands, I went to take a shower, changed into some clean clothes, and headed down to the dining room. A nice salad had already been laid out. I wasn’t normally a fan of what Dillon called ‘rabbit food,’ but whatever Camille did made eating greens an enjoyable experience. I’d just started digging into it when Camille entered the room with a pitcher of sparkling water filled with cucumbers and various fruits.

“Hey, Camille,” I said as she placed it down in front of me.

The young French woman gave me a warm smile and said, “Hello, Mr. Upton! Congratulations on your win yesterday!”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it without explaining how my win had come with a ton of baggage. “Are you settling in okay?”

“Oui,” she said. “The apartment is beautiful, and some of our own pieces have already arrived.”

“That’s great!” I said. “When will your fiancé arrive?”

“He arrived last night, in fact,” Camille said. “He’ll only be here for a few days, then he needs to head back to Stockholm to finalize everything there before coming back for good.”

“Oh!” I said. “I hope I didn’t drag you away from anything. If you need to take a couple days off—”

“Nonsense,” Camille said with a pleased smile. “This is my job, and I wish to keep it.”

“You can take a day off to spend time with your fiancé,” I said. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

“Thank you,” she said. She hesitated a beat and then asked, “Would you like to meet William”?

“Um ... yeah. Is he in the building?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have him come up,” I said. “We can have lunch together. Unless that’s weird or something.”

“Not at all,” she said. “I’ll have him come up.”

She left to summon him while I finished my salad. I’d taken two more bites when I got a text. Good morning!

I hadn’t saved the number on my phone, but looking at the texts above, I immediately knew who it was.

I considered it. I had promised Carla a date, but did I really want to follow through with that sort of thing? Hiro was already mad that I’d already conspired with his wife and had declared that we were through. Did I want to possibly be seen in public with his wife and make matters worse?

On the other hand, could matters get worse? Carla and I had used each other to get what we wanted while driving a gigantic wedge between Hiro and what he was after. He was pissed, and Chandler did say that the man loved to hold onto grudges. What if I couldn’t patch things up between me and the old man? He had extensive resources, and even though I had more, that didn’t mean the man couldn’t make my life difficult. He had vast amounts of experience and connections that I could only imagine. Who knew Hiro Tanaka better than the woman who had shared his bed for years? If the bridge with Hiro was burned, I couldn’t exactly afford to alienate an ally like her.

I texted her back, trying hard to play down the date aspect of what this was supposed to be. Yeah. I can meet up with you.

Love the enthusiasm. It’s a date! See you at seven tonight! Don’t be late!

She texted me the address, and I forwarded it to Erin, asking her to pick me out something to wear and arrange transportation. Then, I returned to my salad, entertaining the different scenarios that could result from our date.

Eventually, Chloe escorted a man into the dining room. He stood about six feet and three inches tall, dressed in dark slacks and a blue button-down shirt. His blonde hair was cut close to his head on the sides while longer on the top. With piercing blue eyes and a strong jaw, he looked like the typical Scandinavian whose ancestors probably pillaged and fornicated their way across Denmark and Northern England.

“Mr Upton,” he said as he approached and extended a hand, “William Wiggen.”

I stood and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, William.”

I invited him to sit down and got to know him better. He thanked me for the apartment and for Camille’s job. A few minutes later, Camille came out with a large chicken on a platter and set it down in front of me. She gave both of us a smile and left, coming back a few minutes later with a large bowl of some kind of cream-based gravy. I thanked her and moved to grab the large knife and fork to serve myself, but she picked up the utensils, carved me a piece of chicken, and spooned a generous portion of gravy before adding vegetables.

The entire time, I kept noticing how William kept looking at her—like he was a long-lost puppy. The other thing I noticed was that Camille had removed her apron and wasn’t wearing the uniform I’d seen her in this time. She was wearing a simple pair of jeans that molded perfectly against her generous ass and a t-shirt with a low-cut neck that did an amazing job of showing off her massive cleavage as she leaned over the table to serve me my portion.

The next thing that surprised me was that when she was done serving me, she placed the utensils back where she had found them, gave us another smile, and left us to continue our conversation. She hadn’t offered any food to her fiancé. It felt a little strange, but at the same time, serving wasn’t exactly her place. She’d probably been offering me lagniappe since I didn’t have an actual server to do that job.

William got his own food, and we talked a little about what he’d be doing in the States ... about how he was looking for a place of employment and already had a few different job offers. I wasn’t exactly sure who handled a lot of my finances—something I realized probably needed to change—but I suggested checking with them to see if they had any openings. He sounded like he was sought after, and it couldn’t hurt to add that kind of talent to a team working for me ... especially if it was the fiancé of one of my other employees.

The rest of the conversation went well. It turned out that we didn’t have a lot of common interests, and we certainly didn’t seem like we’d become good friends, but he was interesting enough. We eventually wrapped up lunch, and he excused himself, saying he needed to finish unpacking his stuff and getting moved in. Moments after he left, Camille came out to pick up our dishes.

“Your fiancé seems nice,” I said. “It looks like you did well.”

Camille looked after the direction William had disappeared and then cast her gaze back at me. “Oh, he’s nice. Perhaps a little too nice, sometimes.”

She gave me a small, mysterious smile that rivaled Helen. “He may be a little too well trained.”

“Well,” I said, a little unsure what she meant by that, “Better to have someone overly trained than not trained enough. Believe me ... I’ve experienced it when they haven’t received enough training.” My thoughts went to Jess, back when she cheated on me, and Bobbi.

“I supposed,” Camille said, looking back in the direction her husband had left, and I could tell that something on her face suggested all was not right with the engaged couple. Did Erin know something about that? I’d have to ask her.

“Thanks again for lunch,” I said.

“My pleasure, monsieur,” my voluptuous chef said, giving me a beautiful smile filled with dimples and a wink. Then she disappeared through the door into the kitchen, leaving me wondering if Erin had possibly set me up to catch a woman about to fall out of an engagement.