Audra

This excerpt is from the Prologue, before Audra and Damon’s relationship completely fell apart.

“You killed it,” Audra said.

They entered the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

“You’re right, I killed it.”

Audra flipped on the light and illuminated their bedroom.

She slanted a glance over her shoulder. Her hair swished with the movement, bone straight and shimmering black from a silk press. “Careful, your head is growing,” she teased.

He laughed, watching as she stepped out of her heels with fluid movements. Feminine and casually graceful. His wife was so sexy.

“You said I did good,” he reminded her.

“Mhmm. Actually, you did fantastic, hon. I have to give you some sugar for that.”

With the shoes dangling from her fingers, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his bearded cheek, her lips soft as rose petals. The blood leaped under his skin. They hadn’t had sex in a while, but maybe he’d get lucky tonight.

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.

Like the rest of the house, Audra had handled the decor. The master bedroom was designed with an eye for comfort and simple elegance, with a California king bed and a custom-built tufted headboard reaching almost to the high ceiling. With no television in the room, the focal point was the fireplace surrounded by polished alabaster tiles, above which hung an abstract painting from an up-and-coming local artist. Teal armchairs and a cocktail table rested in front of the fireplace. Throw pillows and drapes in cool colors like green and blue contrasted against the white and tan in the bedsheets and on the walls.

“I’m very proud of you.” Audra went into her large walk-in closet.

Damon went to stand in the doorway, his mouth watering as she slipped the black dress down her arms and stepped out of it, revealing skin the color of deepest, darkest brown sugar and the luscious curves of her hourglass figure. She wore a black lace bra and matching thong, which disappeared between her ample butt cheeks.

“As long as you think I did well, that’s all that matters,” he said. “By the way, I forgot to tell you that Simon texted me during the program. TAG Heuer contacted him. They want to re-up my contract.”

Ever since he quit playing baseball, Damon expanded his income through modeling, licensing deals, and investments. The flexibility of being able to set his own schedule and not having to answer to anyone gave him more time to spend with his family. His friend and attorney, Simon Finch, negotiated the modeling and licensing deals.

“Are you interested?” Audra hung up her dress and started removing her bra and jewelry.

His body stirred with desire as he watched her disrobe, an erection straining the front of his pants. “Definitely. I like the watches, so they’re an easy sell.”

He promoted the TAG Heuer sports collection, and a drawer in his closet was filled with their watches. At the moment, he wore the Carrera Porsche Chronograph Special Edition timepiece—the most expensive one in the line.

“I’m guessing you told Simon yes?” Audra slipped on a cute white pajama set, made up of shorts and a top with thin straps.

“I did,” Damon answered.

She came toward him, a smile reflected in her pretty dark eyes, her round face accentuated by sinfully full lips.

When she exited the closet, he gently tugged her close. Slipping an arm around her waist, he kissed her on the mouth.

He had only meant to be affectionate, but she smelled good, wearing a rose and orange blossom perfume. The combination of that scent and her soft body inflamed his desire. But as he deepened the kiss, she tensed in his arms and pulled back, placing a hand on his chest.

“Honey, I need to wash off my makeup.”

“Wash it off later. I’m trying to get a little something, something,” he said with a wicked grin. One hand coasted low and grabbed her a$$.

Audra became more tense and edged away from his hand, her face apologetic. “Not tonight. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired. I’m not in the mood.”

Heat flamed Damon’s neck, and he reluctantly released her. “Seems you’re hardly ever in the mood nowadays,” he remarked, keeping his voice neutral.

He didn’t want to start a fight, but she pulled away from him more often than not lately.

“That’s not true. We had sex a couple weeks ago,” Audra said.

“A month ago,” Damon corrected.

Her eyebrows drew together. “Has it been that long?”

“Yeah.”

She dodged his eyes and veered toward the bathroom. “Oh,” she said in a low voice.

Damon didn’t respond, instead going to his own walk-in closet and removing his clothes with frustrated yanks. He changed into pajama bottoms, then returned to the bedroom where he removed the throw pillows from the bed and placed them on a shelf of the armoire, below the extra pillows, blankets, and sheets. He paused, eyes resting on the locked box on the bottom shelf that contained “toys” for when they were feeling a little kinky. It contained a couple of vibrators, Ben Wa balls, a vinyl whip, nipple clamps, lubricant, fur-lined handcuffs, and a mask. He couldn’t remember the last time they had unlocked the box and used any of the contents.

After he turned off the light, he slipped under the thin blanket and lay supine on the mattress with his arms folded behind his head and his p*nis at half-mast.

Audra used to enjoy his touch. Hell, she used to initiate sex. He never dreamed he’d see the day when she talked about sex as if once every two weeks was sufficient. Desire burned through him at the slightest brush of her body against his, but if he was being brutally honest, she behaved as if she no longer wanted him to touch her at all, and his ego was taking a beating.

She exited the bathroom, and in the ambient light, he saw her rubbing lotion on her hands and elbows. His eyes followed her until she slipped under the covers with him.

“Maybe we can do something tomorrow night,” she said.

The words chafed.

Pity sex.

“Nah, I’m good. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” Damon said, staring up into the darkness.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Audra said in a small voice.

Coulda fooled me, he thought.

“Are you upset?” she asked.

“No.”

“Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He smothered a sigh. She always complained that he didn’t talk enough. He knew that but couldn’t bring himself to open up more.

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking, Audra.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He rolled onto his side, away from her. “Good night.”

“Damon—”

“Good night, Audra.”

Quiet filled the room for a while.

“Good night,” she finally whispered.