The Secret Life of a Career Wife

  The Secret Life of a Career Wife

  Satan comes in many forms.

  Mariah R. Embry

  Copyright © 2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Mariah R. Embry

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing 2019

  First Edition 2019

  ISBN: 9781694528100

  Dedication

  To two of my best friends and greatest inspirations. Thank you so much Carrin M.W. for you advice on this novel. If it weren’t for you people would think Lisa were a prostitute! To Jacque Patton, thank you so much for your advice and edits. You are an amazing lawyer who is going to change the world for the better! I love you both and am forever grateful for your friendship.

  From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for your continuous support.

  -Mariah R. Embry

  “Chaos is an angel who fell in love with a demon.”

  -Christopher Foindexter

  Warning

  This is a DARK romance novel. The following story contains sexual situations, extreme depiction of violent situations, and drug abuse. This book is only intended for a mature audience and NOT recommended for the faint of heart.

  Reader discretion is advised.

  You’ve been warned. I hope to see you on the other side…

  XOXO

  Part One♠

  Chapter One♠

  Mother always made sure to remind me, “To get what you want as a woman, you must bare your soul to a man.” Always thought the woman’s antics were deplorable to the feminist movement. Stuck in her times. Never would I have imagined that I’d be baring my soul to a man, yet here I was. I was driven to advance my career as fast as possible. To bed, a partner would do just that. A beauty that was sensual and smart, what more would he need. As I looked around the party, I realized that I was not the only one trying to advance their career. Guess mother was right. My tactic she would approve of, the profession I chose, however, was not up for her approval.

  While the higher-up went on and on about how bright my future was going to be, I found myself gazing upon the one beautiful thing in the room, the skyline. Pointed tip was gleaming against the black of night. The surrounding skyscrapers were competing to overshadow that unique tower. The glistening lights from within the Bay Bridge, glowing in the near distance. Confetti that trickled into my brown locks gave the partner the opportunity to lean in and pick it out, and the courage to run a finger along the length of my face. His shot to cop a feel of my smooth flesh in which he’d be sampling tonight; so long as his proposition to advance my career was up to my standards. After all, that’s what I was in his eyes, flesh. His voice touched ever so near to my ear. His breath smelled of expensive champagne and vodka. I held back my gag reflex not wanting to ruin any chances of advancing in my chosen profession. Sure, he was not a sight I would be pleased to wake up beside the next morning. Then again, I had been living in a closet for the past twenty-six years. This time I would at least arise in a bed.

  I tapped my empty champagne glass, indicating that I would be needing another and to keep them coming. He provided a refill before groping a touch of my silk dress. He whispered something into my ear, meant to be a joke, so I laughed on cue. The fuzzier my sight got, the easier it was to imagine myself on my back, playing possum as the man took what he yearned for. With the clock nearing closer and closer to midnight, more aloof officials crowded through the doors. The room was booming with 80s hits, littered with fancy people. No one moved unless to acknowledge their presence. It was clear to me that this was going to be my life. Being so new in the firm meant playing a part. The better I played the further I would progress. So, I flipped my hair, ran my hand along the curves of my body and performed the willing girl that he wanted.

  I knew from a very young age my preference was for women. Also, I knew my parents would never approve of this. So, I focused on school, leaving Virginia, and making a name for myself. There was one woman, my dream woman, that I would come out for. I had almost forgotten about her. Right when I was about to take that next step and tell whatever that man’s name was that we should go find a quieter place, I glanced up, and my mind went blank.

  As if stepping out of my fantasies, the spotlight shone upon her.

  Ever so slow her silhouette snaked in a cascading sway as she took a step back, shake-shake of her hips, snake back, shake-shake of those seductive hips. She ran a hand through tight blonde curly hair, tussling the golden locks as she felt from the center of her protruding cleavage over the sequin of her pink dress. The man she was with smirked, refusing to join her. The entire room was watching her, but she did not seem to mind. Either she loved all the peering gazes or just didn’t care. She was feeling the music. Rolling her hips in time with the beat. Touching herself along with the harmony of the song. Her eyes fluttered closed as her hips gyrated into her palm. It appeared as if she were making love to the melody. Feeling its every cord, every tempo. Melding with the various instruments and touching each and every one with her soul.

  As I looked upon her, I knew one thing was certain...she was not from this world.

  No longer did I care about the man standing beside me, whispering the activities he envisioned us doing beneath his sheets. The sight of her made me need to step out of that closet. The freedom I saw, the beauty, the seduction. It was invigorating. As if wielding her with my intense gaze, her body twirled around, eyes locking with mine. As soon as her hazels connected with my blue’s, it was as if time stood still.

  I’d know her eyes anywhere because they had haunted my dreams for years.

  Her lips parted, I inhaled her. Her grin warmed me causing an unfamiliar tug to gleam upon my face. It had been a very long time since I held a genuine yearning to smile.

  And as soon as she cast it, she broke the spell, turning on her heel headed towards the restroom. My eyes followed as she hit the bathroom door, swinging it open. I took another sip of my champagne, before abandoning the aroused man to follow suit.

  I had to know her name.

  When I opened the bathroom door, I found that she was in the first stall, so I leaned against the sink waiting for her to come out. I wasn't very nervous, more so anxious. My body yearned for her. An unbearable ache, a contusing pain within the pits of my stomach. It didn't matter that she was with some other man. Nor did I care about the prospect of advancing my career. I had to follow my gut instinct. It was as if an invisible cord was yanking me towards her.

  She opened the stall door, jumping back a bit, startled by my presence. She composed herself as she walked to the sink. I couldn’t take my eyes off her physique. Every movement she made I captured. I noticed the little mole on the back of her right shoulder and the purple butterfly tattoo on the left. Her strawberry blonde permed hair fell down to her shoulder blades, every movement she made those locks moved with her. My sight fell into the mirror, dawning the realization that she had been watching my every movement as well.

  “May I say something?” My voice seductive, calm, and smooth as the question exited my lips.

  “Sure,” hers soft yet reluctant, she held my sight through our mirrored reflection.

  “There are many beautiful women here tonight, but you are by far the most stunning woman I have ever seen. May I know your name?”

  A puzzling
look crossed her features before she smiled.

  “My name is Joyce.”

  “A beautiful name for a captivating woman. You deserve someone who will dance with you--have fun with you—appreciate you. I hope you find that,” I said then left.

  The pain that coursed through my body was nothing compared to the anxiety that plugged my brain. Why did I walk away? What was I thinking? It was the first time I stepped out of my comfort zone—my closet. It was as if I needed to do it. But worse, the physical ache that overtook me proved I needed her more than anything else. At this moment, I knew I would never be the same. Every time I heard Billy Idol’s “Eyes Without a Face,” I would be haunted by those hazel eyes. A gaze that haunted my dreams, swam in my fantasies, and finally had a face, but I would most likely never see her again. It was turning out the be the worst night of my life. I no longer knew how I was going to move forward having finally found her just to let her go.

  As I was contemplating how I was supposed to live a normal life again, I felt a tap on my shoulder that sent a lightning volt, coursing through my body to strike my heart. As I turned from the coat check, the spotlight hit causing her flesh to glow like a shooting start coursing through the night sky. Her skin perfection; sparkling something so far from human, yet so fascinating. She was perfect.

  “I didn't get your name,” she yelled at me over the music.

  “It's Lisa,” I shouted back.

  “Lisa do you want to get out of here? This party blows.”

  “What about your date?”

  “Fuck him. He isn't paying attention to me anyways.”

  From that moment, my life would never be normal again...

  ~*~

  I often think back to our first date now that we have been married for fifteen years. Times like tonight, I feel bad that my wife is home with our children while I am getting a lap dance from a stripper named Strawberry; being entertained by a potential client. My client is being charged with the murder of one of his dancers. He owns quite a few businesses in this industry which makes for a great connection. On top of that, pulling off a win for someone so well respected will earn me major brownie points in the rise of my career.

  Strawberry whispers, “You want a private?” Her soft physique sliding down my body.

  “Maybe later sweetie...” I yell over the music. “...What time do you get off work?”

  Plump bosom runs up the perimeter of my body. Her lips against my ear. “Two,” she breathes sitting atop my lap. Kissing on my neck as grinds into me. She purrs, “Mmm you're so sexy.”

  A smirk tugs at my lips. Another pressure tugging at other parts of my body. I tap her off, saying, “I might find you later.” Pressure leaves my lap as she stands. Sight locked on her physique walking away, her hips having a bit more sway than moments prior.

  Arnold, my potential client, is being entertained in the back of the club. I catch his sight and nod, signaling for him to let the blonde girl’s head go from his grasp. She stands from her knees as he zips up his pants. Predatory sense heightens within me as she strolls past, my eyes move up the length of her form.

  To get on with my meeting, I betray my senses tilting my head towards the front door. Arnold follows me through the club to the refreshing night air waiting outside.

  As I spark up a cigarette, I say, “Nice establishment you have here.” Smoke fills my lungs pulling from the burning stick between my lips. Hand the pack to him he takes one then hands it back.

  “Thank you.”

  “Look you and me both know that I am your best option. You are in a ton of shit Arnold, but I am confident in you and this case. I know that I can and will win. So, I expect to see you in my office--Monday morning at eleven.” He starts to say something, yet I hold my finger to my lips, signaling that I am not finished. Exhale smoke into his smug face. “Also, when I win, I want a free entry for me and whoever I bring plus free drinks. Is this clear?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Lisa, I will see you Monday then.”

  “Great. Tonight, was free but Monday you start paying. Also--send out--Strawberry.”

  “We have a room inside you are more than welcome to use.”

  “Thanks, but I'd rather not sit in someone's dried up fluids. I'm fine in my car.”

  “Sure, whatever you want,” he says already hurrying back inside.

  A few moments pass before Strawberry exits the club. She is a whore, but I'm horny. She is a pretty girl in the dark, yet in the dim lighting of this parking lot, I can see her flaws. She has a bit of a pudge and dark bags underneath her eyes. Her skin tone, which in actuality is quite stunning, is a dark olive color yet she has dark spots on her face that her cover-up fails to hide. Flaws aside, to be frank--I don't plan on looking at her face. Last of my cigarette falls to the ground, I tilt my head for her to follow. Open the back door of my Escalade, allowing her to get in. Eyes lock onto the exposed flesh of her backside as I slide in behind her.

  I lay the seat back, inching up my skirt. Strawberry, now on her knees pushes up my legs, so my feet rest on the edge of the leather. She guides my panties from my hips down to my feet. Licks her lips making them moist before her face disappears in between my thighs.

  Body tenses up at the pulsing pressure her tongue ignites as she parts my lower lip. Fingers spreading my folds allowing her to dive deep into my core. I show very little mercy by pushing her head down deeper and thrusting my hips up off the seat. Vigorous to grind into her face as all she can do is suck my bud between her soft wet lips. Power is all I wanted to feel from the beginning. And it's this sense that fills my body with an impending release. Her moans vibrating against me, my fingers digging into her scalp, forcing her head down deeper. All she can do is obey my movement. Obey me. It's the repetition of that thought which takes my body over the edge.

  Suction eases from my contracting core, yet I hold her head here for a moment trying to smother her mouth in my wetness. The thought of being all over her for the rest of the night is enticing.

  Now that I got what I wanted; I kick open the door allowing her to get out. As I trail behind, I utter, “thanks,” handing her a hundred before walking back to the driver's side.

  Peek at my phone shows that Joyce has texted me, “When will you be home, it's late?” I text back that I am on my way. A sniff of my shirt proves it stinks of cheap prostitute and cigarette smoke. Joyce hates that I smoke, and if she found out, she would reprimand me. Joyce smokes weed, but she despises cigarettes. She used to be addicted to cigarettes but quit quite some time ago. The smell makes her crave one.

  ~*~

  The entire house is quiet. Up the stairs, I tiptoe to our bedroom. All the lights in the house are off, except the one in our room. Our foster son is fast asleep in my bed, but Joyce is not beside him. Chase, the foster child, has been a topic of many fights as of late. He is mute, along with other issues. I want to give him back; Joyce wants to adopt him. She thinks that giving him stability will help overcome his problems. There is no way I will adopt that kid and raise him as my own. The fact that he is in my bed right now just infuriates me further.

  Stomp off to the bathroom to find Joyce sitting on the toilet, texting on her phone.

  “What is Chase doing in my bed.”

  “He is asleep. Keep your voice down. It took me two hours to get him down. I finally brought him into our bed which worked.”

  “So--where am I supposed to sleep because I sure as hell am not sharing my bed with that kid!” I yell, my blood, starting to boil at the thought of having to lay beside him.

  “Sleep downstairs then for all I fucking care. Chase is staying there though.”

  “Whatever Joyce,” I say walking away.

  The reality is that I have been finding myself spending great deals of time in the downstairs master. It seems every night I am down here. I haven't had sex with my wife since we first got Chase about four months ago. I wanted to have another child. We already had two before Chase, Brandon, and Ashley, they are eleven and twe
lve. Joyce had given birth to both of them. We settled on a sperm donor, and during lustful nights of lovemaking, I inseminated her. We were lucky with Ashley; Joyce was pregnant within a month. After she was born, we tried again about two months later, but Joyce had a miscarriage. Joyce and I waited another month before trying once more. On the second try, she was pregnant with Brandon.

  Joyce was so beautiful pregnant, but this time she refused to start over with a baby. Instead, she wanted to try fostering. At the time it seemed like a decent idea until it became a living reality of hell. One good that has come from Chase being here is that I find myself in the office more often than not, focused on my career.

  Criminal defense law is where my expertise lies. For the most part, my firm defends high profile cases. They tend to give me the people they believe to be guilty because of my lacking conscious and determination to do about anything to win.

  Before the partners realized my skill level, I worked smaller defense cases where I had a cubical rather than an office overlooking the city. It was a rumor that floated around the firm that the big wigs upstairs were always in search of new talent. So, every now and again, they would assign associates to a pro bono case. Except these pro bono clients were, for the most part, criminals, who had very little chance of winning. After years of dedication, I was given my “test” case. The man was on trial for robbing a large bank in Pasadena. The prosecutors had my client's fingerprints all over the crime scene. My office said they wanted the client to get one year or less. I ended up getting him acquitted from all charges. Leo, who is a partner in the firm and now my mentor, saw something in me. He came to me one day, asked if I wanted to win my case at any cost. I didn't hesitate to say yes. After my win, Leo told me that when he feels I am ready, he will explain how I won. I'm still waiting to know how he helped.