Traded for Love (4 page)

“Well, aren't you happy for me?” he asked, holding his arms open. I stepped into them and wrapped mine around his neck.

“I'm ecstatic for you,” I replied, stroking his forehead. “I'm so proud of what you've done.”

He clasped his hands at the small of my back and looked up into my eyes. “I was so lucky when I found such a beautiful and obedient wife,” he said. “With you by my side, I'll win for sure.”

At face value, it sounded like a compliment, but even I had to admit it was an odd one. I wasn't sure how to accept it, or if I should accept it at all.

But with him smiling and holding me, I didn't want to ruin the moment. Even though there was a storm of feelings going inside me, I didn't have to heart to bring down his mood.

"Have you had dinner yet?" he asked, letting me go and holding me at arm's length.

"I gave Nadine the night off and had a PB&J around six," I said. "Otherwise, no."

Jack scoffed. "You don't have to give Nadine time off. She has her duties to fulfill," he said, but his disappointment was short-lived. He smiled again and went around behind his desk, rifling through some papers laying exposed in an open file folder.

"Sorry," I said, wiping my suddenly clammy hands on my shirt. "Hey, I had an idea and I thought I could run it by you to see what you thought."

"Hm? What is it?" He lifted a document for closer inspection.

"I was thinking about getting a job."

His eyes stopped moving over the page he was holding. He set it down and stood upright. "I see."

"Just something part-time, nothing fancy, or too time-consuming," I added.

Frowning, he crossed his arms over his chest. "You know how I feel about you working. I told you months ago that I didn't want to see my wife listening to anyone's orders but my own."

"I know but—”

“The answer is no.” He was a pillar of strength in front of me, well, more like a wall, one I couldn't hope to knock down.

“What if nobody knew about it?” I proposed.

“No. And I don't want to hear about it again.”

(Jack)

She cast her eyes to the floor in the submissive way she always did. I should have felt some guilt for taking away part of her freedom, but I couldn't let her put my candidacy in jeopardy. I was pretty sure that if she was seen working some pedestrian job, the news outlets would have a field day with it.

'Duncan Wife Works at Local Coffee Bar'
they'd write.

Everyone always had an opinion.

I went around my desk and put my hands on Emily's shoulders. “Don't be sad. I'm only looking out for you and trying to enhance your image. Maybe we can talk about it someday in the future after I've entered office.”

“If it's not okay tomorrow, what makes you think it'll be okay after you're a county executive? But it's okay, Jack, I get it. I'm not selfish enough to go against your wishes. It's fine. I'll just find something else to occupy my time.” She brushed my hands off. “I'm going to bed. Goodnight.”

With that she disappeared from my office.

I couldn't decide how to feel. On one hand, I felt like a jailer. I'd caged her up like a bird, one that was beautiful to look at but too expensive for anybody to touch.

Maybe it'd been excessively cruel for me to limit her social attachments and her activity in the community, but there was too much at risk. I wanted to move up in the world.

I heard our bedroom door open and close down the hall.

On the other hand, I married her
knowing
I was a bastard. I knew there was a chance I'd hurt her because my original use for her was selfish. I'd never set out to make her unhappy, but her happiness had never been my absolute aim either.

I couldn't understand, for the life of me, why she was unhappy, though. Her life was no longer hard. She never wanted for anything. She never had to work. She just had to
play
house and smile at public appearances. All she had to do was stand by my side.

At this point, I only had months left to win over the voters.

All that mattered to me was getting ahead, becoming more than I was yesterday. If I had to cause her a slight bit of discomfort by stepping on her freedom, then so be it. She'd just have to deal with the choice she'd made to marry me. She'd have to learn to be a politician's trophy wife. If that meant she'd be a little uncomfortable during the meeting with Stratford the next day, it'd be too bad for her.

I'd put her through worse, after all, and she'd come out of
that
. She could handle a lunch with someone who could win me votes, and probably the county seat.

I began clearing my desk of clutter, my thoughts turning to my future goals. After I obtained the county executive position, I could run for Mayor or even the Senate.

'Senator Duncan'
. That had a nice ring to it.

And Emily would be there, too, a senator's wife, perfect, poised, and following all of my commands.

Lately we hadn't had much time alone, let alone sex. I hated to admit it, but our sessions were becoming boring. I should have felt bad about reducing her to a fixture in my life. I'd promised her more than that, but I hadn't been able to deliver.

The truth I'd come to realize was that I didn't love her—at least not in the way that most married people loved each other. I'd been told once that love was this immense, acute emotion that changed one's life, but Emily coming into my life hadn't changed me.

I wondered if Emily knew what love was, whether what she felt for me was true, or whether it was just another naïve illusion she believed in.

I'd never had a use for the type of relationship most people vied for. It was such a foreign idea to me that there were people in this world who
required
other people. I never had, not even when it came to Emily. She was fine to have around, and she was sweet as well as supportive, but her presence hadn't added much to my existence.

My phone vibrated and I took it from my pocket to check it.

This bitch, on the other hand, I thought, scowling at my phone screen.

John
my phone screen read. I had half a mind not to answer it, but I picked up.

“I told you never to call me before ten ‘o’clock,” I said without greeting Julia.

“It's ten-thirty,” she said cattily.

I glanced at the grandfather clock against the wall. “The time must have gotten away from me,” I said. “What do you want?”

“I found a new place. I thought you might want to go there. It caters to people with
our
tastes,” her deep velvety voice echoed in the earpiece.

“
Our
tastes? Is it another BDSM club? You know I don't like those. Half of those people aren't lifestyle Doms and subs.”

“It's more of a
trading
club.”

“Trading? You mean swingers?” My lip curled in disdain. “Those places aren't really my thing either.”

“Can we try it, please …
Master
?” The addition of the honorific term stirred my blood.

“Do you think of nothing else except getting used?” I sneered. “Fine. Maybe I'll lend you out to a few dozen men.”

“Th—thank you, Master,” she whimpered. “If that would give you pleasure.”

“It always gives me pleasure to see you treated like the slut you are,” I said with more ire than she perhaps deserved. She really
did
sicken me. She was exclusively my slave, but I could never quite satisfy her cock-lust. Our sessions had been few since I'd gotten married. The campaign had weighed heavily down on me and I wasn't gaining enough ground with voters in the polls to be able to relax.

Being that there was an undeniable chasm between Emily and I, the idea of being entertained sexually was too good to pass up. It'd been weeks since I'd even had time to relieve myself. I was itching to
use
somebody again, and my fantasies went far beyond the idea of watching Julia get fucked by a half-dozen strangers.

No … I needed to feel fresh meat under my hands. I wanted to dominate a hot new conquest, one who would bite back, one who would earn her punishments, one who might shed a few tears from the pain I gave her. I wanted to experience the same high I'd once felt with Emily, or at least something close to it. There were things I'd dreamed of doing to Emily that she would never have enjoyed. Julia wouldn't be able to provide the freshness I wanted.

It was plainly evident that I'd have to find someone new to satisfy my darker desires, and it seemed like this club was just the place to start looking.

(The Next Day)

Stratford had booked us a table at Delmonico's. I'd been there once or twice, and generally liked the food. I'd never taken Emily before, though we'd frequented many of the expensive eateries in New York.

When she walked into my office, she looked tired but primped to the extreme. She wore an amazing skirt-suit accented by black sheer stockings and black pumps. On her earlobes she'd donned a modest set of pearl earrings. On her finger was the four-carat cushion-cut diamond ring I'd bought her for our first anniversary.

The shade of lipstick she wore was just slightly pinker than nude, one that screamed innocence. In instances like this, she came off as an inexperienced, barely legal girl trying hard to appear adult, and for some reason, it never failed to arouse me. Her brunette hair was straight, falling down to the middle of her back. She'd had the stylist give her side-bangs. I couldn't resist touching the wispy strands that teased her long lashes.

Her cheeks blushed in response. That trusting, coy expression she gave me almost drove me over the edge of reason.

“It's too bad we have to go,” I said. “I'm very tempted to bend you over my desk.” Her gaze met mine and her eyelids drooped low as though she were intoxicated. I pressed my thumb down her cheek and grazed her bottom lip with my fingernail. Like a curious child tasting candy for the first time, she licked her tongue across my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Jesus Christ, woman.” I cleared my throat. “I'll have to punish you later for being such a tempting minx.”

Her smile broke between her cheeks like sunshine through clouds on a rainy day. I was oddly happy to see it. I quickly dismissed it as a remnant of the intensity we used to share.

I remembered there were more important things to think about than ravaging my wife. No, today she had a more important use.

We had Dante drive us into the city. I was glad we'd left when we had. Any later and Stratford would have had to wait for us.

Dante dropped us off at the entrance and went to park the car. I held out my arm for Emily and she threaded hers with it.

Luckily, we'd arrived before Stratford. The host seated us and Emily glanced around the high-ceilinged room, taking in the splendor of one of New York City's oldest restaurants.

A waiter poured water into our goblets, recommended wines, and informed us of the chef's specialties.

“Thank you. We're waiting for someone,” I told him. He smiled and nodded. “I will be back in a few minutes to see if your guest has arrived.” With that, he was gone.

“All this sounds good,” Emily said, eyeballing the menu. “I'm so hungry. With all the running around I did, I wasn't able to eat. I had a granola bar in the car.”

“You've got to stay healthy, Emily,” I said, silently choosing what I would eat. “That means getting enough food and exercise.”

“I think the amount of exercise I get is fine. I'm actually a few pounds lighter than I was before I had Katherine,” she pointed out.

“Don't argue. Just do as I say,” I said dismissively.

She didn't bring it up again, and if she had, there wouldn't have been time to talk about it. I saw Stratford's face floating behind a host. Though he wasn't fat, he was a man of considerable size. He was built like a linebacker, from his thick torso up to his wide shoulders. I shouldn't have been in the least bit intimidated by him, since I was a decade his junior, but I was—slightly. His face glowed when he saw me.

I stood to greet him and he immediately seized my hand in not one, but both, of his massive ones for a cordial shake. “Good afternoon, Mr. Duncan. I'm glad to meet you.”

“Hello, Mr. Stratford. I'm happy you could find time in your busy schedule for us today.”

Our interaction stopped when he saw Emily. He was obviously struck by her. This was what I'd counted on, that she could be an enticement, an ornament on my sleeve. She gave him a sweet smile.

“This must be your wife,” he said, holding out his hand palm-up. She gave him her hand, and when his fingers closed, everything below her wrist disappeared. He bent low and planted a kiss on her knuckles.

She blushed again. It irritated me that he'd gotten that response from her. I may not have loved her, but, damn it, she still
belonged
to me.

“Mr. Stratford, this is my wife, Emily.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Emily,” he said, not tearing his eyes from her.

That’s enough, Bigfoot, I thought.

“Shall we sit?” I asked, indicating the empty chair between Emily and me.

“Absolutely. I could murder one of these steaks. They have the best in the city. What are you having, Mrs. Duncan?” he asked.

“Uh. Me?” She looked back at the linen card-stock in her hand. “I think I'll have the Roasted Halibut.”

“You wouldn't prefer a steak? We
are
at a steakhouse, after all,” I said.

Her cheeks colored again. “I guess you're right.” She ran her finger down the menu. “I'll do the Filet Mignon, then.” She smiled.

“Good choice!” Stratford commented. “How do you take your
meat
?” he asked.

I detected a salacious note in the way he said
meat
. Emily's cheeks flushed a deeper red.

“Medium. Isn't that right, darling?” I interjected.

She nodded.

“I take mine medium-rare. I have an affinity for
rare
things.”

I knew he was talking about Emily. He wanted her. It took everything in me not to lunge across the table and choke him. I maintained my composure. He could make or break my campaign. Allowing him to ogle my wife was a small price to pay.

The waiter came back to the table. Stratford ordered a cognac, red wine, and the second largest steak they offered. Emily and I added ours to the waiter's pad and he was gone again.