Faithful, Unfaithful

By Mallorie Griffin

Gail Peterson has just lost her job, and for the first time in her life is utterly dependent on a husband she loathes. But then she meets Raf, her new Hispanic neighbor. Raf is everything that her husband Larry isn't - sweet, kind, respectful, and amazing in bed.

Gail realizes through Raf that there’s more to life than being a Stepford Wife, but Larry has her firmly under his thumb, controlling everything in her restricted life. Can she break free of the shackles of this horrible marriage, or is she doomed forever?

This steamy erotic romance is for mature readers only, due to frequent and graphic semi-public sex, and themes of adultery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mallorie Griffin
• Release date: Aug 4, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476355276

Mallorie Griffin

Mallorie Griffin is an up and coming romance and erotica writer, specializing in paranormal, werewolf, vampire, mythological and fantasy scenarios.

Book preview

Faithful, Unfaithful

Mallorie Griffin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Mallorie Griffin

Check out other works by Mallorie Griffin

If you enjoy this story you may also like: Angel Among Wolves: The Initiation

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 1

Gail scowled and huddled under the covers as she heard the faucet run in the master bedroom. Her piggish, slob of a husband was in there, doing his morning routine as loudly as possible. Just to piss her off, she was certain. He knew she didn’t have to be up at 5am to do some heinous commute to work, but he insisted with his actions that she be awake whenever he was. No matter what she’d been doing last night.

She had stayed up late, trawling Craigslist, but not for what one might suspect, given how horrible her husband had been to her over the past few years. She was actually looking for a job. Gail had just gotten laid off, and Larry never failed to point out this fact to her every day since that fateful firing five days ago.

Who’s bringing in 100% of the income now? he sternly asked her over dinner that last Friday night. Why is it firings always happened on Fridays? Was it true, what they said in Office Space? That people were less likely to get violent?

So let’s have a little respect for the man of the house, and let’s take better care of him in the future. Gail sat, silently fuming in her seat as Larry had admonished and lectured her that evening. Though superficially he played at being upset about her job loss, she knew deep down he was happy. She knew he wished she’d never gotten that job in the first place. Now, she was just as certain, he was gleefully dreaming about his future with a perfect little Stepford Wife, some happy little creature that did all the domestic chores without complaint, while he went to the office like a big man and brought home the bacon.

Larry never liked how much independence Gail had. He never liked how she went out and, gasp, communicated with other people. With other men, even! He was incredibly insecure, and Gail knew one of the reasons why. While she’d worked hard to keep her body toned and fit, to the point where she could give most 20 year olds a run for their money, at 40, Larry was really letting himself go. He’d let his metabolism do all the work in keeping him slim, and now that that was failing him in his advancing age, he just didn’t seem to care.

She peered her head over the covers, covertly watching him pad around the master bedroom and bathroom. He was sallow-skinned and balding, his portly pot belly hanging over his boxers like a white balloon full of flour. She marveled once again at how unattractive he’d become.

He wasn’t always like this. She remembered when she met him back in college. He was slim and fit, and loved running and biking, going out on the town, and on vacation. But years of soul-sucking drudgery in the office and life in general had dragged away his spirit, kicking and screaming. Now all that was left was this sarcastic, sardonic, overbearing husk of a man.

She suppressed a snort of laughter as he stumbled while trying to put on his pants. What an imbecile. But she didn’t want him to think she was awake.

Too late. He buttoned up his shirt and tucked it in, concealing his love handles somewhat, and then waltzed over to the bed, his greasy face looming into view.

Give us a kiss, he demanded, as if she were a child. Gail inwardly groaned. She hated how he talked to he like this, either referring to himself in the third person, or else using what she thought of as his royal ‘we’. It was ridiculous, and made him sound like a giant buffoon.

However, he never failed to point out how utterly dependent she was on him now, and how much power he held over her. He could kick her out since she wasn’t pulling her own weight anymore in the money making department. Never mind that she was his wife. The bastard.

Obediently, she opened her eyes and planted a light peck on his thin lips. He beamed down at her, and said, I think you should get up and make us some breakfast, honey. And with that, he grabbed his tie and jacket, and left the room.

Gail’s eyes widened at the injustice. Here she was, exhausted from her night of research, and he wanted her to make him breakfast? That bastard! She wondered briefly if she had any cyanide.

Grumbling, she pulled her legs over the bed and slid her feet into her fuzzy sheepskin slippers. She had a nightgown on and felt like a grandmother, but she wasn’t going to give Larry any sort of show, and certainly not any ideas. The mere thought of sex with that man, nowadays… she shuddered as she pulled her bathrobe around her as well. It was cold in the house, but that was how Larry liked it.

In the five days since she’d lost her job, Larry had instituted massive changes. He dictated that he no longer had to do any housework, since she had so much free time on her hands. She was to do all grocery shopping and cooking. She was to maintain and clean all vehicles, not just her battered old Camry. She was to do all yard work. And since he was the working man, he was to have final say on what she spent money on, and he was allowed to make any purchases he wanted without any sort of approval from her. And the first thing he’d bought was that Corvette.

She practically growled as she descended the stairs. Damn that disgusting old man. Here she was, limping along in a decade old Camry, and he goes out and buys a new sports car the day after she loses her job! And not just any sports car, but the six figure, top of the line Corvette ZR1.

She had to admit, objectively, the car was gorgeous. All sleek lines and curves, and a sparkly metallic red. Normally she would’ve loved it.

But it was attached to Larry, so she hated the thing. It was a symbol of him lording his power over her. Look at me, I can go drop 100 grand on a frivolity, and you can’t do or say anything about it. And he even hid the keys to it, to boot, just so she couldn’t drive it. Not that he had any good hiding places – she knew all of them. If she really wanted to drive the thing, she could. But it was the principle of the matter.

She found Larry in the kitchen, impatiently tapping his finger against the table, holding the morning paper. Hurry up woman, I haven’t got all day. That was another thing she hated about him, now. He almost never addressed her by name anymore, and only referred to her as ‘honey’, ‘woman’, or worst of all ‘baby girl’. Ugh. She suppressed another shudder. She was anything but his baby girl. She was glad she’d never had kids with him, she couldn’t imagine what disgusting pet names he’d come up with for her children.

Gail tried to arrange her face into as neutral an expression as possible, and set about making his breakfast. Two fried eggs, medium, 4 strips of bacon, crispy, two pieces of toast, heavily buttered, a glass of milk and a glass of orange juice. It was foul. No wonder he was so fat. She poured him the juice and milk, and turned to work on the rest of the food. Larry smacked her on the ass with the rolled up newspaper as she walked by him. I don’t have all day, girl! he barked.

Gail whirled around, unable to take the morning’s worth of abuse anymore. "You do not hit me!" she shouted, grabbing the newspaper out of his surprised hands. He’d never done this before, and she wasn’t about to be subjected to physical abuse. The verbal, mental, and emotional abuse were quite enough.

Larry regained his composure and stood up, snatching the newspaper out of her hands and brandishing it at her threateningly. I will if I want! You better not forget that I’m the man of the house, I make the money!

Oh yeah? If you lay a finger on me again, I’m calling the cops, Gail growled, and not waiting for a response, she turned back to the stove. She had it with this man. She was doing everything he wanted, and he hit her? This wasn’t going to fly. He didn’t hit her or threaten her again, at least, and merely sat back down in his seat, scowling. The possibility of the cops seemed to subdue him.

She finished her cooking, and dumped his breakfast on a plate and shoved it in front of him, before stomping out of the kitchen.

Aren’t you going to clean up? he called.

If it’s so important to you, do it yourself, she bit back as she climbed the stairs. I had a late night, and I’m going back to bed.

Fine. Do it later. And don’t forget to wash my Corvette. I’m putting it out on the driveway before I leave

Gail blood was boiling. He just got that damned car, and she already had to wash the thing? And he just made her wash his Mercedes on Monday, while he took the Corvette to work! She slammed the door shut, and stalked over to the bed, punching one of Larry’s pillows. She wished it was his head. What had happened between them?

Their relationship had started so sweetly: a traditional courtship in college. He would take her on dates, give her flowers and other presents, speak sweet nothings in her ear. He had been a perfect gentleman, focused solely on her pleasures, her wants, her needs. She knew realistically that she had been seeing the best of him, back when he’d been trying to win her over. That was just the nature of relationships.

And indeed, when she’d moved in with him, 17 years ago, his behavior had slowly devolved to where it was today. It started with little things, belching and scratching his balls obscenely while he watched football on their wide screen TV. But she could deal with that. That was just a typical man thing.

But the other stuff. The belittling comments, the snide observations about how she made less than half as much as him, the childish demands and nitpicky splitting of bills. She always had to pay her share, and he made absolutely certain that he knew what she owed him, for anything. Even something as petty as a pint of ice cream that she shared with him, but he’d paid for.

She got used to it, though. She’d assumed this was how relationships operated. After all, she had little basis for a long term relationship – this was her first and only serious one, one where finances were shared. Sure she’d had a lot of flings in college, and high school even, but nothing more than a few months. She was a free spirit.

And now, at age 40, she was tied down to this sack of shit. Why did she do it? Was she just trying to make her parents happy? They’d wanted a family from her, a husband and children. Well, they got the former, but they weren’t getting the latter. She realized years ago that she didn’t want kids, and she appeared to be infertile, anyways. They had tried, and she never had so much as a miscarriage or a false alarm. Was she trying to make herself happy? This is what society dictated women to do, if they wanted to be happy. It’s what every little girl dreamed of. But she most certainly wasn't happy. Was she afraid of being alone, ending up an old spinster cat lady? The prospect had scared her years ago, in college. Now that she was trapped, being alone actually had its appeal.

She heard the roar of the Corvette’s engine, as Larry backed it out of the garage. That was another thing. He decided to take both garage places, since he was the primary breadwinner now, as he said. She scowled. Just throw another straw on her back.

Gail went over to the window and watched him glide out of the driveway in his Mercedes. He’d be gone for 11 hours, at the least. Rush hour was a bitch in the D.C. Metro area. She glared down at the Corvette, a bright contrast to the driveway asphalt even in the dim morning light. It wasn’t fucking dirty, why did she have to clean it? She considered not doing it, and saying she did, but she knew Larry would notice. And if she didn’t do it, he would pile on the insults tonight. Or worse.

As tired as she was, she was now far too riled up to go back to bed. But she wasn't going to wash that beast now. It was mid-April, and far too cold to be washing a car. If she was even going to do it. She hadn't decided yet. She whirled around, and went into the bathroom to do her morning ritual. She didn't know if she was going to go out that day, but she put on her makeup and did her hair anyways. It was one of the things she kept up with, despite being jobless. She may have lost so much, but she still could control some things.

In retrospect, she hadn't really lost all that much, in her previous job. She'd been a public marketing specialist at a small company - a small company that was now well on its way to becoming a smaller company. And probably a bankrupt company in a few months. They'd been doing so well when she found that job years ago, but ever since she'd signed on, they'd started circling the drain. It wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming.

But still, she'd never been laid off before. It was probably one of the most de-motivating things she'd ever experienced in her life. She needed a pick-me-up, and badly. And she certainly did not need to washing her damned husband's Corvette.

She looked in the mirror, glaring at herself. The woman in the reflection glared back angrily – and Gail knew even then, she was beautiful. Naturally blonde hair, flawless skin with only the faintest hint of wrinkles now (no need for Botox for her), big blue eyes that were now framed in expertly applied eye shadow, liner and mascara, and full pouty lips. Gail actually smiled at that. She’d never needed collagen injections for her lips. She actually thought she looked a little like Marilyn Monroe.

Curious, she backed up and let her robe drop, and removed her nightgown as well. Underneath, she could begin to see the ravages of time start to take their effect, but on the whole, she still looked pretty fantastic. Her skin was tight and smooth, and pale and creamy where it wasn’t tanned. Her breasts still held themselves high on her chest, and her waist narrowed down before flaring out into generous hips and a well-muscled buttocks. She took great care to maintain herself, and it showed.

Gail turned around, and with one last admiring glance, and padded her way back into the bedroom. She pulled on some jeans and a thin t-shirt, deciding to forgo underwear today. She didn’t think she’d be going out, so it wasn’t like anyone would look at her.

She wandered downstairs and went back into the kitchen, pointedly ignoring the mess on the stove. She poured herself a cup of coffee, and went back upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms, where her makeshift office was. She could look for more jobs, and do some more networking, at least. She was trying so hard, she had put in 10 applications and made 4 calls to contacts yesterday. All her hard work would pay off soon. It had to. She was going to go crazy, otherwise.

Gail spent the next few hours trawling through various job posting sites, trying to pick out any jobs she'd missed in the previous days of hunting. But there wasn't much. A job here, a job there, but nothing major. It seemed like she'd gotten through the backlog of postings in the last few days. Now she just had to watch and wait as new postings popped up periodically.

She sighed, and checked the clock. It was 10am, and there wasn't much else she could do here. She resigned herself to the reality of having to wash that bastard's car.

Chapter 2

Why was she even doing this? She pondered that thought as she made her way down the stairs, dumping her empty coffee cup in the sink. As she did that, she took a good look around