My Wife's Dirty Diary

By Helen Ridley

When Neil first met the woman who would become his wife, she dropped an encyclopedia on his face. Ever since, Neil has loved Lana with a mad passion. But as the two of them have grown, their priorities have shifted. There's the mortgage to worry about, raising their young son, their careers...and never enough time to truly love each other like their wild college days. Neil's certain that Lana is bored with him and their marriage, and it breaks his heart. That is, until her secret diary falls into his hands. Helpless to ignore it, Neil discovers that his wife burns with the same passion as he, and longs for the shameless, sexy fun of their youth. That's all the encouragement Neil needs to fulfill his wife's every naughty fantasy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Helen Ridley
• Release date: Oct 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370625970

Helen Ridley

You know Helen Ridley. She's sitting across from you in the cafe sipping coffee, patiently raising her hand at your local city council meeting. She's worked in cubicles and restaurants, and today she's probably editing some listicle about vegan delicacies. But at night, that's when she lets her wild fantasies guide her pen. Helen writes romance that's steamy and sensuous, with characters that live by their passions and love without limits. She lives in southern California with her partner and their grumpy dog, Vader.

Book preview

My Wife's Dirty Diary

© Copyright 2016, Helen Ridley, All Rights Reserved

NOTICE: 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 your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are over 18-years-old. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Cover designed by Veronica Sloan. Cover Photo © Can Stock Photo Inc. / Bialasiewicz.

* * *

Chapter 1

I will never forget the moment I met my wife.

Obviously, at the time I had no idea that Lana Calvet was my destiny. At the time, she looked to be on the verge of disaster. She was the cute girl trying desperately to pull an encyclopedia off the top shelf of the Reference Room - the cutest girl, in fact, I'd ever seen in the university's dim and dusty library. It was odd to see her struggling, because Lana is tall for a lady.

The thing is, no matter how tall you are, you're going to have a tough time pulling an encyclopedia off the shelf if you're already balancing two fat reference books against your hip.

I should have gone to her sooner but I was lost in the beautiful tangle her body had become. Lana's hair is auburn, and in the crepuscular rays of the library she looked like she was crowned by a halo of copper. Her tongue was wedged between her lips, her heart-shaped face was set in furious concentration, and her arms (spotted sparsely in freckles) were doing their best to defy Isaac Newton and all his laws of motion. She was wearing shorts, and those long, lustrous legs were heaving to and fro, one foot even rising to wedge itself into the second shelf.

Excuse me, miss? I finally worked up the confidence to ask. May I-?

That's when my future sweetheart dropped an encyclopedia on my face.

Our first date was in the emergency room where I'd eventually get three stitches through my left eyebrow (the monstrous tome had landed corner-first just a hair shy of my eye). Truth be told, I've always felt a little guilty about that. I mean, Lana is compassionate to a fault, and I've never shaken the feeling she said yes to our first real date just because she felt so bad for wounding me.

But then, that guilt is always overcome by this one, sure truth: I would have done anything to be with Lana Calvet, even if it meant taking an encyclopedia to the eye.

Until that fateful day, Lana was someone I'd noticed on campus (with hair like that, a face like that, legs like that - well, you get the picture) but never really known. We were in separate departments - me in applied sciences, she in English - so there was no overlap in our courses. Not until that last year of college, in that tiny library room, did I get a chance to say something to her. I would have preferred to say something more dashing than, Ow! My face! but it certainly broke the ice.

After the book cut me, I felt her hands on my cheeks for the first time. She tilted my head up, without even knowing me, and rubbed her thumb along my temple. Why did you sneak up on me, stupid? she said, even as tears filled her eyes.

I-I didn't meant to! I said.

She pulled a tissue out of her purse and blotted at my eyebrow, but the blood seemed as excited to see her as I was. Ooh, she groaned. Ooh, it's bad... You need to go to the hospital!

No, I said. Look, let's not do that. I have a better idea. Do you like Thai food?

I love Thai food.

Let's go get some Thai food.

She paused for a confused moment, one hand still pressed to my eyebrow, the other holding my jaw to keep my head tilted back. Wait, are you hitting on me?

You hit on me first.

I am not a clever man, but I thank God or whatever divine spark gave me the wit to say that. Lana burst out laughing as the tears streamed down her face. It was the kind of laugh you don't get enough of in real life, the laugh you hear your future lover sharing in your dreams. I wanted to hold her then, just for that laugh. I knew that no matter how many times I'd noticed her legs or face or hair, that laugh would be the reason I fell in love with this woman.

When she recovered, Lana wiped my face and smiled. Okay, we can get Thai food. Later. Right now, hospital.

So, hospital.

The whole situation made us very friendly very quickly, dissolving all the awkwardness that usually accompanies a first date. While sitting in the waiting room, we shared stories about our majors, the perilousness of that library, how we'd both seen each other here and there on campus and at parties - eventually, where we'd come from, where we were going. I made Lana laugh some more, and that made the pain and the embarrassment worth it.

We slept together after the second date - though Lana disputes this. According to her, we passed out in her bed after a day at the beach, midway through fooling around. According to me, we resumed the intimate moment sometime between midnight and the wee morning hours. It was a quiet, sweet round of lovemaking, as if we were saying hello after being separated by decades. We were more concerned with holding and kissing each other than perpetrating that longed-for consummation.

Despite our