Bad Husband Read online

  Scare her? I bet now isn’t the time to tell her I ran over what looked to be a dog when I swerved. It was probably a coyote though. I once tried to feed one a cheeseburger when I was a kid. He looked hungry. Just in case you’re wondering, don’t attempt to approach a coyote, or feed one. It’s a horrible idea but that’s a story for another day.

  Glancing in the mirror, I see it limping away but can’t make out what it was. No way I’m saying anything.

  After another ten minutes, Madison sighs heavily. “Do you really think this is going to work?”

  “I’ll find the road eventually.”

  Her lips press together in a tight line, and her expression turns serious. “I’m not talking about the road, Ridley. I’m talking about us.”

  Of course she is. I might not have explained this until now, but there’s things Madison and I are good at. Annoying each other is one of them. We’re good at sex and laughing at each other’s jokes.

  What we’re not good at is communication. Surprising huh? Probably not. You’ve been with this train wreck a while now to see we’re a straight-up soap opera shit show.

  I don’t talk. Never have. I’ll keep my thoughts to myself as long as possible until one day I explode. I think I might explode now as she’s nitpicking me to death about being lost and trying to start arguments. But I hold back.

  Madison, she’s emotional and believe it or not, insecure in some ways. She also can’t make a decision to save her ass, and when she does, she’s never confident with it and questions herself. I’m mostly talking about ordering off menus, but I think you see it since she filed for divorce. She wasn’t 100 percent sure of the decision. No fucking way.

  So because of those two personalities crashing into one another, we have this fucking void between us that neither of us wants to cross. Is that our problem? Is that the underlying issue here?

  If so, we don’t need this couples retreat, but I know as well as you do, it’s not just that.

  Every marriage has its problems. You’re fucking smoking crack if you can actually sit here and tell me it’s perfect all the time.

  And trying to make her see what’s right in front of us and worth fighting for is becoming exhausting if she’s not willing to at least work with me.

  “I think”—I turn down another road and see the hotel lights in the distance—“this is our best chance to find out if we can make it work.”

  One would think we were okay, right? Everything will go smoothly once we get to the hotel.

  One would be wrong.

  One needs to be punched in the face.

  AS WE ENTER the hotel, the Sahara Resort and Spa, I have our bags in hand, and Madison is following behind me. There’s a sign above the counter that says “Check-in” so I step forward.

  That’s when I hear, “Madison, is that you?” from behind.

  I turn to see who’s talking to her, as does my wife and I groan, out loud. “You have to be fucking kidding me.”

  Madison elbows me. “Oh, hey, Thomas.”

  Fuck me.

  Great. Just fucking great. Have I mentioned Thomas yet?

  I haven’t, have I? Probably because the ex-boyfriend never matters. I’m the better guy. Believe me on this one.

  Well, until now when my wife is you know, contemplating divorce.

  Is God trying to tell me something here? Is he saying, “Fuck off, Ridley. Just let her go!”

  I’m beginning to think that way.

  Madison laughs casually, but there’s a good amount of hesitation in the laugh. Her eyes dart from mine to Thomas. I watch her face closely, every single emotion that dances behind her eyes.

  Do you see me there? Muscles and jaw tensed like I’m about to lose it? I feel like a can of soda that’s been shaken constantly, and I’m about ready to explode. You know that feeling right before you vomit where you break out into a cold sweat and your heart starts pounding?

  That’s me right now.

  “Are you checking in?” a voice behind me asks.

  Go to hell.

  I catch a man’s stare behind me. “Oh, yeah.” I reach for my wallet, and I want to toss it behind me and tell him to take care of everything because I don’t want to miss anything Thomas has to say to Madison or vice versa.

  Thomas is smiling like he’s been given a gift, a second chance. No fucking way.

  “Mr. Cooper?”

  Goddamn it.

  With a heavy sigh, I turn around to hand the hotel clerk my credit card and attempt to hear what they’re saying behind me.

  They chat. Simple things like, how are you? Got any kids? What are you doing here?

  I’m okay with that part.

  It’s when he says, “So what made you guys come to Sahara? Are you having troubles?”

  Say no. For the love of God, SAY NO, MADISON!

  Sahara Resort is advertised as a couples retreat. A place where you can come to get away and fall in love again. If we’re here, it’s clear we’re having some sort of martial issue, right?

  And I hate, absolutely hate, that her ex-boyfriend is asking this. You never ever want the ex to know there are problems.

  “Well,” she looks at me, probably waiting for me to say something, “we just needed to get away for the weekend.” She pauses, my heart evens out, but then she crushes my soul with, “Remember why we’re together.”

  Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be a big deal. There’s nothing wrong with needing to remember, right?

  Wrong. This is a jab at me that I’m not doing my job. I know this and guess what? Thomas knows now.

  He nods as though he’s agreeing, but inside he’s grinning like a fool.

  Have you ever heard of cape buffalo? They’re in Africa. Anyway, the male bulls have to fight their way high enough up the dominance hierarchy to secure his opportunity to mate. Do you hear that? Eight years. We’ve been married for eight years. I’d be damned if this guy or any other guy for that matter would take my place in the hierarchy.

  I grab my wife’s hand. “All checked in. Let’s go.” And I practically drag her to our room and slam the door behind us before she, or Thomas, can say anything.

  AS WE STAND in the room staring at one another, romance all around us from the wine to the flowers… it’s like a honeymoon suite. But I stand there silent because for once, I’ve got nothing to say.

  Are you surprised?

  Maybe don’t answer that.

  Madison breathes in deeply, her eyes darting around the room and then landing on mine. “What was that about down there?” she asks.

  Reaching for the wine bottle on the dresser, I wink and flop myself back on the bed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Glancing around the room, Madison sighs. “I’m hungry.”

  I sit up with the bottle of wine. “Let’s drink then.”

  She frowns. “You know I don’t drink.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Swinging my legs around, I stand up from the bed and set the wine on the nightstand. “Let’s go downstairs and get something to eat. There’s a restaurant down there.”

  She heads for the door without looking at me. “Okay.”

  The restaurant is nice, elegant I suppose and we’re probably under dressed. Well, I am, wearing gray shorts and a black polo shirt but Madison, she’s always perfect in anything she has on. Tonight she’s wearing a simple white sundress with black and yellow flowers that moves with her body as she walks ahead of me to our table.

  There’s music playing and a small yet convenient dance floor to our right. Before we get to the table, I grab Madison by the wrist when I notice the song playing. “Dance with me.”

  “Why?” she asks, pressed to my chest now.

  I wink at the waiter holding our menu’s and then lead Madison to the dance floor with my hand on the small of her back. “Because there’s music playing.”

  Her hands slip gently over my shoulders, lashes fluttering with thoughts. “So?”

  “Come on.” I wrap my arms a
round her waist pulling her closer, no amount of space between our bodies. “You know you want to.”

  “Fine.” And then she glares at me, though I can see she’s amused at something. “Since you asked so nicely.”

  “When have you ever needed a please when it comes to demands,” I murmur against the shell of her ear, our bodies swaying to “Let It Be Me” by Ray LaMontagne’s. “You’re a dirty girl and you like to be told what to do.”

  Madison snorts, slapping the back of my head. “Stop that. Be a gentleman.”

  I laugh. “I don’t know how.”

  Another snort. “That’s for sure.”

  “Hey now, this is me being a gentleman.” I pull back, smiling. “Be nice.”

  We’re quiet, moving effortlessly around the dance floor when I notice we’re the only ones dancing in this restaurant. Everyone else is at a table, across from their significant other, candles creating a romantic atmosphere while the lost souls make sense of what they’re actually doing here. I don’t know this for sure but they all seem to have the same weary looks on their faces. Do they even want to be here? They look like they’re being forced into detention, or worse, the ballet.

  Some stare at the televisions on the wall in the bar, others at their phones but the thing is, nobody is actually talking to one another. It’s sad. Really fucking sad.

  My stare moves to Madison. “Look at these people, Mad.” She does, her tender eyes darting around the room, saddened by what she sees. “They’re not us. There’s love here….” I raise my right hand from her waist, my fingertips brushing over her left breast. “I know I’ve made some mistakes and made you feel alone but I’m asking you not to give up.”

  She nods. “I’m here for us to try, Ridley.”

  My mouth lowers to her collarbone whispering the words, “Thank you.”

  ONCE WE’RE SEATED at a table, I scan the room and see Thomas sitting with two other guys at the bar about thirty feet away. Ordinarily you’d think I would ignore him and look away, right?

  The answer would be no. I probably wouldn’t because this is the guy Madison left for me. In my mind, I have to convince him there was a reason as to why she did that. May seem like stupid guy logic to you, but it’s my logic. For right now anyways.

  Just watch what happens next.

  So there we are after our dance, seated in a booth looking over menu’s and I have a clear view of Thomas. Madison’s view is blocked by a plant. I’ll thank this plant later because if you don’t know what I’m about to do, you don’t know me at all.

  Madison doesn’t need a lot of romance and likes to live on the edge a little. Don’t believe me? Well for starters, that first night we met at a Halloween party, I fucked her in a bathroom of the house with two people passed out in the shower. She didn’t care and neither did I.

  And here’s one more example for you. At our wedding, our first dance was to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” which I’d like to add I rocked the shit out of.

  Anyways, back to my point. Madison doesn’t need a lot of romance and likes adventure. So I have something in mind.

  Leaning into her, my left arm wraps around her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

  She looks up from her menu at my hand on her shoulder and then my face knowing damn well I’m up to something. “What are you doing?”

  I shrug and nod south as I move my right hand on her thigh pushing her dress up. “What does it look like? Take them off.”

  “What?” she gasps setting her water down on the table and then begins fidgeting with the edge of her dress trying to pull it back down.

  “Your panties.” I draw my voice out, the words slowly slipping through my lips in a mumble. “Take them off.”

  “No.”

  I hold her stare with a serious look, my hand inching higher, the heat of her center noticeable now. “Are you telling me no?”

  She stares at me, playfully, yet frightened and then her eyes dart around the restaurant. “Ridley, what if someone sees us?”

  I press my lips to her ear. “I think that’s part of the fun here, isn’t it?”

  My hand is up her thigh, my dick straining against my shorts, begging for some sort of friction. Drawing back, I meet her stare calmly and smile. Judging by the heat between her legs, she’s not going to tell me no.

  My hand moves further up her thigh until I reach the edge of her panties. “You should have taken these off.” I breath slowly into the side of her neck letting my eyes drift to the bar. “I want all these people to see that you’re mine.” Mostly Thomas. “And I’m not going to stop until you come all over my fingers.”

  Moving her panties aside, my middle and forefingers glide into her and my thumb presses against her clit. She jerks slightly in her seat, inhaling sharply at my touch. “That’s it, honey. Let me take care of you….”

  Circling and swirling my fingers, Madison shifts her legs and spreads them apart giving me more room to work. My fingers press deeper and I’m rewarded with heat and wetness of her pussy on my fingers and palm. Madison’s eyes flutter shut and she inhales sharply, her breathing hitching with my movements between her thighs.

  When she does open her eyes, she’s frantically searching the room for who can see. And no one can, but Thomas and his friends. His friends aren’t looking but Thomas, his eyes are locked on us with a glare.

  Other than tonight, I’ve only met Thomas one other time.

  Guess what?

  It ended in a fight. In my defense, he started it and threw the first swing. I just finished it.

  Judging by the set scowl and the white-knuckled grip on his glass, I’d say there’s a 50/50 chance he wants to hit me again.

  “Relax,” I whisper. “Just enjoy what I’m giving you.”

  Madison makes a noise, a gentle sigh and I lean forward a couple inches sliding my middle finger deeper, rubbing across her clit with the pad of my thumb, circling it gently.

  Moving my lips along her jaw to her mouth, she faces me and kisses me deeply while grabbing my wrist with her left hand coaxing me along.

  Fuck yeah, she’s into it now.

  She moans into my mouth as I inhale her breath, my thumb teasing her swollen clit as I begin moving faster and harder. Believe me when I tell you I know how to get my wife off. This isn’t me being overly cocky. This is me knowing what I’m doing for the last eight years.

  Breaking the kiss, Madison’s eyes remained closed, her head now buried between my neck and shoulder like she’s telling me a secret. A very dirty secret I desperately want to hear.

  I can’t see her face, but judging by the sounds of pure pleasure falling from her lips, I’d say I’m doing a pretty good fucking job here and wearing a look of smug satisfaction. If anyone, such as Thomas, was to look over here, it’s fairly obvious what’s happening but I’m not about to let Madison know that. She’s losing herself in the passion and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in a while.

  “You’re so wet,” I whisper brushing her hair from her neck with my left hand that’s still wrapped around her shoulder. Knowing she loves this shit, I grip the back of her neck a little harder than I usually would. “I want you to come all over the seat and my hand.” My fingers speed up, my voice chanting in her ear.

  My voice, my movements, it’s too much for her and she lets out a short burst of air, her legs convulsively widening a fraction then clamping together on my hand and wrist.

  “Oh God….” She breaths out, her body shaking as she does in fact come on my fingers. Her left hand pushes mine deeper, rocking her hips slightly as she rides out the last of her orgasm, panting into the side of my neck.

  When her thighs relax, I lean into her ear, my stare on Thomas. He’s captivated by what I’m doing, his eyes darting around the room but always returning to us.

  Turning my head, I stare at her, lips slightly parted, still panting. Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip as she says, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  Oh yeah? Watch car
efully as to what I do next.

  Raising my hand from between her legs, I place my index and middle finger in my mouth and suck her sweet juices from them. Leaning in closer so our faces are almost touching, she turns to face me and then kisses me, her soft lips yielding to my own.

  I break the kiss before she wants me to and whisper, “Are you sure you want a divorce? Nobody can get you off like I do.” She knows this is true and I’m confident enough to say it.

  Madison sits up a little straighter and reaches for her menu as if nothing happened. She also doesn’t answer my question because she knows I’m right.

  I discreetly adjust myself—wishing Madison would lay her mouth in my lap—and then I wink at Thomas.

  You didn’t think he’d turn away from this, did you? Nope. He’s still fixated on us.

  When I wink, his head snaps the other direction, quickly, his eyes on the television to his right but there’s no way he’s forgetting what he just witnessed. I certainly wouldn’t.

  Before you go judging me, think about what I’m attempting to do here. Everywhere I turn there’s another obstacle in my way. I have to use my advantages where I can, even if that means finger fucking my wife while her ex-boyfriend watches to let him know there’s absolutely no fucking way he has a chance with her again.

  The waiter approaches, glances at me and then Madison. “Are you ready to order, Mrs.?”

  Do you see the way her posture stiffens and the pink on her cheeks? It’s an indication she’s still trying to calm herself down.

  “She’ll need a minute… to decide,” I tell the waiter, proudly.

  He nods and darts his eyes to mine. “Take your time.”

  Madison’s mouth presses into a firm line. “Ridley?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you do that because Thomas is sitting in the bar and can see us?”

  I shrug, reaching for my water. I look a little closer at what I thought was a plant. It wasn’t. It was some woman’s hat and she moved. I can’t lie to her. A smile pulls at the edges of my mouth when I say, “Maybe.”

  “Well….” Her right hand glides up my thigh and then stops at the bulge in my pants. “I was going to repay the favor, in front of everyone… but now I think I’ll make you wait a little while, husband.”