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Briana Payton sat before the
vanity mirror in her hotel room brushing her long blond
hair and wondered if she had the courage to go through
with her plan. Another long, slow stroke with the silver-backed
brush and she set it aside.
How long had she known she
didn't love her husband? Five, six…eight years
of the ten they'd been married. Or was it after her
second miscarriage? However long, she knew she couldn't
live like they had, apart in every sense of the word.
With a deep breath for courage
she stood and walked to the bed, lifting the filmy black
wisp of a nightgown from the cream duvet. Tonight would
be her last attempt to breathe life back into their
failed relationship. If she felt no spark, no returned
affection that was it. She'd leave. Destination? Who
cared? Maybe one of the Virgin Islands in the Caribbean.
Her husband thought them too provincial and perhaps
his rejection made them more appealing to her. Briana
found them welcoming, sunny and delightful.
Oh, she'd stay until the negotiations
were complete, but after William signed his name to
the peace treaty, she would leave Padel, William and
life as the ambassador's wife. She might even go back
to work, a job might make her feel better about herself.
Being the wife of an important political figure had
its own demands but she missed the excitement of meeting
new people and using her mind for other than dry conversation
with people she could barely understand. And the constant
smiling she endured in the name of politeness. If she
never smiled again, that would be fine with her.
Lace strafed her cheek, making her aware she was crushing
the miniscule nightie in her fists. She should be thinking
about a pleasant night ahead, a sexy interlude with
her husband, not all the places she'd go when things
didn't work out. Where had her optimism gone? Why had
she already assumed this tactic would fail?
Because, she'd tried before.
Briana sighed. One last time.
Ten years of marriage shouldn't be thrown away because
you run into a dry spell, should it? With a snort, she
tossed her robe aside and slid the gown over her head.
A dry spell was a week or two, not a year or two without
any physical contact. She guessed William had a secret
bed partner. Most men couldn't last two weeks without
sex. William couldn't be any different.
Yet it hurt to know he couldn't
find in her what he found in another woman. A glimpse
in the mirror reminded her she wasn't hideously ugly.
Built much like the late Princess Grace of Monaco, Briana
knew she could hold her own in the looks department.
Yet, William had chosen to sleep in separate rooms,
sometimes not bothering to come home at night. Once
she had questioned him on why he slept in a different
room. He'd said, because he didn't want to disturb her
when he had late meetings with delegates.
But Briana knew he'd lost
interest in her sexually. He probably thought she was
frigid, lacking passion, basically a complete bore in
bed. Because of his political career, she hadn't filed
for a divorce instead choosing to stick it out.
A smart and determined woman,
Briana had done her research. Armed with x-rated videos
she'd purloined from her hairdresser, she'd studied
various techniques that seemed to work to turn a man
on. In the process of viewing videos, she'd managed
to masturbate herself into multiple orgasms. Wasn't
that enough proof to herself she wasn't rigid?
Were mattress gymnastics all
it took to be considered more passionate? If so, why
hadn't she done this sooner? The past ten years of marriage
could have been so much more…pleasant.
Where was he? Briana paced the plush carpeted floor,
the sheer fabric of her gown swaying against the tops
of her thighs, making her feel sexy and desirable.
William was already past the
time he'd said he'd retire. She'd left him at dinner
to hurry up to her room and place her plan in motion.
He'd said he'd be two more hours talking with the other
ambassadors before he came up. Those two hours had stretched
into three. Briana perched on the arm of a sofa, her
bare foot tapping against the side. The lacy neckline
of her gown was just beginning to itch. Lifting the
edge, she blew gently on her skin to ease the scratchy
feeling.
Was he really with other dignitaries?
If she were him, that's where she'd be. The peace treaty
was at the most critical point it had ever been and
the closest to being a done deal.
Would William dare to sneak
a little nookie from his lover at such a critical juncture
in Turbakistan history? Briana sighed. Probably. Did
that mean she should give up on her plan to seduce her
husband knowing he might have just scored with another
woman?
How icky was it to think of
him sliding his dick into her after only a moment before
screwing another woman?
Briana shrugged away her morose
meanderings and trudged toward William's room. If she
didn't try one last time, she'd never know if she'd
done enough. If he found her in his bed, surely he wouldn't
reject her. He'd have to sleep with her.
How she craved the feel of
a strong masculine body next to her-to have warm hands
smoothing over her breasts and down between her legs.
Her own hands followed the path of her thoughts, cupping
her breasts then slipping down her torso to delve into
the mound at the apex of her thighs.
By viewing videos, she'd learned
the art of masturbation, which she administered to herself
standing beside the bed. But she'd always fallen short
of absolute fulfillment, wanting more than her fingers
inside her, more than a hard metal dildo. She wanted
a man to fill her up, love her, and remind her that
she was a desirable woman.
Her breath quickened as she
crawled between the sheets and lay back against the
pillows.
Tonight. She'd get laid, even if she had to throw herself
at the man. How pathetic was she?
BUY
THE BOOK
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