Chapter 9

Anders wakes up for the second time this morning. His eyes open much quicker and he feels more refreshed than ever. Again, he hears the shower running and starts to think how he is going to need one as well. So slowly, he pulls the covers off and throws his feet over the edge. By the time his feet hit the plush carpet below the sound of the shower water being cut hits his ears.

“Dammit,” he mumbles, wanting to jump in and join his mysterious lover before she got out. He looks down to see his cock already sprung up, ready for action and shakes his head. He hasn’t been this excited or ready to go in a very long time. “Well, I guess I’m going to be late this morning.”

But before he can push off the bed the door to the bathroom opens. The look of shock on his face cannot even begin to describe what he feels in that moment.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Janelle asks, lifting the towel to wipe it again. “You’re not seriously ready to go again are you?” she asks when her eyes take in the sight of his raging member.

“I ... um...” the man stutters out. “ ... again?”

“You’re going to be late for work then,” Janelle says with a devious grin. “But if you’re going to perform like that then I’m not going to argue.” She drops the towel and slips over to the bed.

“You look like a mess,” Ashley says walking into Anders’ office.

The man looks up at her, looking dazed and confused—more confused than dazed. “What the fuck is going on?” he asks. His tone is somewhere between anger and curiosity.

“What do you mean?” the woman with the fiery red hair asks. “This is the first time I’ve seen you today.”

He waves a hand at her. “I’m not talking about that,” he says brusquely. “I’m talking about all this weird shit that is going on in my life right now.” He looks the woman dead in the eyes and she can see the hurt, confusion, guilt and pain behind those eyes. “I meet up with you and you have someone with you but it turns out you were alone. I meet up with this person over and over again. I can’t tell where she ends and my wife begins.”

“I don’t understand,” Ashley says, slipping around the desk to hugs him. “I’m telling you, you need a break before you do break.”

“More like I need a psychologist,” he mumbles.

“It’s just the stress of work and your home life,” she continues, ignoring the comment. “You’re obviously not going to leave your wife like you keep telling me.”

Anders abruptly looks up at her. His face has taking on a look of shock. “I can’t do that,” he whispers as if someone might be listening in. “We’ve rekindled things. I thought it was all on track until Mela came back into the picture.”

Ashley suddenly pulls away. A look of disgust covers her face. “Who the fuck is Mela?” she asks, almost in a snarl. “Are you fucking someone else?”

Anders throws his face in his hands and then drags the down it. “I don’t know,” he eventually answers. “I have no idea.”

“Are you sure she is real then?” Ashley asks, suddenly changing her tone.

“Well, you say she wasn’t with you anytime we’ve fucked outside this office,” the man answers a little harshly.

“And I keep telling you that there wasn’t anyone,” she says defensively. “When was the last time you saw her?

“This morning,” he answers quickly.

“This morning?” Ashley confirms. “You fucked her this morning and you don’t know if she’s real? You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”

Her words are like venom and Anders can’t for the life of him understand why. “But that’s just it,” he says, pouring from him like water. “I wake up to see her coming out of my bathroom. Janelle is nowhere to be seen. We fuck and I fall asleep.” He shakes his head, trying to make sense of it before speaking the rest. Thankfully Ashley doesn’t interrupt him. “Next thing I know is I’m waking up again, but this time it is Janelle stepping out of the shower.”

“So you fucked your wife,” Ashley says, though the amount of venom in her tone is quite a bit less than before. “I guess you have to keep up appearances. Maybe, this Mela is just a dream.”

“I thought so too,” he admits. But when she asked if I was ready to go again ... it didn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe you did fuck her once already, and you were thinking of someone else,” her voice peters out toward the end. It even takes on a bit of sadness. “I would like to think it would be me you think about when screwing your wife, but I guess I have competition.”

“No, no,” he quickly says, practically leaping from his chair to wrap his arms around the woman and comfort her. “I do think of you, a lot. But even then, she seems to be there too.”

Ashley pushes away, not because she doesn’t want to be held by the man, but because she has an idea. “Maybe she’s your mistress.”

“What?” Anders asks, totally thrown off by the comment. “You’re technically my mistress.”

“No, I don’t mean it that way,” she says, shaking her head. “I mean it metaphorically. I took some college courses in psychology,” she continues. “Maybe all this stress at work is getting to you. Maybe in some way you have created a mistress—work—and it’s invading your life when you are not here.”

“How can that be?” he questions. “How could it be so real?”

Ashley grins. “The mind is complex and can do some amazing stuff,” she answers. “I’m no doctor since I didn’t finish the courses, but all the signs point to something like that.”

“Then what do I do?” he asks, looking confused, maybe even a little scared. “Do I go see a head shrink? Do I commit myself or something?” He drops to the edge of his desk, contemplating her words and trying to organize his own thoughts.

“Nothing like that,” Ashley says soothingly. Her tone becomes more motherly. “A break,” she says. “You’ve got that cabin that your father left you. It’s way out in the woods up north. There isn’t anyone for miles. It’s secluded and peaceful.”

Anders raises his head up and looks at her. His face shows a little relief yet some uncertainty remains. “And what would I do there?”

“Get away, relax, forget about the word,” she says, leaning in close to him, hands on either side of him on the desk. “We could fuck all weekend.”

Anders’ eyes go big like saucers. “I can’t do that,” he argues. “I’d have to take Janelle. If I said I was going alone she’d suspect that I was taking you.”

“Janelle is part of the problem,” Ashley counters. “Your work, your wife, they are causing all this mess in your life.”

Anders sighs. “I don’t know, Ashley.”