Davina's Story: The A-Z of Trophy Wives, #4

By D.D. Grey

They're young, beautiful, with fast cars and luxury homes—with absentee, older, husbands. Bored and lonely, each of our trophy wives has her own solution.

 

At 18, the tall curvy blonde with the perfect figure, and devastating blue eyes made a beeline for Yale. Three years later, her honors degree had earned her a steady boyfriend, a doctoral student in anthropology whose family had real money. The day after their graduation he proposed and Davina accepted. A real love match.

Three years later, she's a stay at home wife, living a half-a-mile from her father-in-law's, while Greg is spending a six-month sabbatical in the jungle of Papua New Guinea looking for a lost tribe of headhunters who worship the Cargo Cult.

If she found a job, her husband would be horrified, and if she tried to develop a social life independent of him, there would be all hell let loose. The only person she can turn to is her recently widowed father-in-law, and he has plans of his own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.D. Grey
• Release date: Aug 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223948940

Book preview

Chapter 1

Had I really just heard him say that? He couldn’t have, could he? I put the book down and lifted my head, turned to look at him.

What did you just say?

I said.... He, at least, had the grace to look sheepish. ... I’m going on that field trip to Papua New Guinea.

I had heard him right, I just couldn’t quite believe him. I held his stare with mine, and I could see him wilt a little under my frosty glare. When?

Next week, Thursday in fact.

Greg...

I’m sorry, Davie... It’s too good a chance to miss.

How long for?

"For a doctoral student he seemed unable to handle the Q and A. He looked away and down, then sighed and looked back at me. Now, his gaze challenged mine.

Six, seven months...

Six or more months? My voice was going up an octave even as I spoke.

Davie...

Don’t you Davie me!

Davina, come on, you know this trip was on the cards.

Next year.

Well, they found a new lead and the Uni wants to go before the trail goes cold. You know how much this means to my career.

I know how much your presence means to your father. You mother’s only been in the ground eight weeks.

He sighed, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. He’d been close to his mother, and her sudden death had been a shock to all of us. His father, though, had taken it hardest.

Low blow, Davina.

Sorry, but it’s true. Your sister pissed off back to the West Coast as soon as she felt she could that leaves you. Now you’re going out in the wilderness for six months. I suppose you think I’m going to look after him.

This trip’s important to me, Davie, you know that.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to hold my peace. He was right, I did know how much tracking down a lost Cargo Cult tribe would mean to him and his career. This trip had been scheduled, albeit for next year, for some time. Pulling it forward was a shock. Doing so, so soon after the loss of his mother intensified it. I could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears. My heart melted for my husband even though my brain was still trying to process the shock and outrage. Wordlessly I held my arms out. Within seconds, he’d risen to his feet and took three strides across the family room. His arms went around me in a hug as mine closed around him. He sank down onto the couch next to me and pulled me tighter.

I can’t turn this down, baby, you know that.

In the three years since my own graduation, I’d learned a lot about the political infighting in his department. From undergraduate to masters to doctorate, to a place on the faculty with the realistic prospect of tenure in less than nine years marked him as a rising star. One misstep and boom, it would be gone.

I can’t say no, Davie...

I sighed. I know.

He slowly pulled back from the hug then as I looked at him again, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on my lips.

Dad will cope.... I know mum wouldn’t have wanted me to duck it.

He kissed me again, a little harder this time. I’d offered him a hug for comfort, it appeared Greg had interpreted it a little differently. After three years of marriage, he was still as horny as he had been in the couple of years before the big day. Greg was right, though, his mother wouldn’t have let him give up the chance—the matriarch had held the family together with a will of iron. The next kiss was harder still, his lips pressing against mine, his tongue extending, albeit hesitantly to flick against my lips in a not subtle invitation for me to open my mouth and let passion take its course.

I’m still not happy about this.

I know, Davie, I know, but let’s make the most of the week we have...

I arched an eyebrow then shook my head. You’re insatiable.

And you love me for it.

He leaned in to kiss me just as I opened my mouth to reply. I guess he’d been waiting for the opportunity, he knew my weakness for being kissed—I loved being kissed. His tongue pushed past my teeth, strangling the words before I could make a sound. A moment later his tongue met mine and started to dance with it. Greg had always been a fantastic kisser—I’d found that out on our third date. Four years later I was still just as much of a pushover when his sexy mouth started to work on mine.

My arms slid up his back, my fingers tangling in the short hairs on the back of his neck. His arms slid higher too, and without breaking the kiss, he shifted our position. From sitting side by side, hugging, I was now lying on the couch with my husband sprawled half on top of me. I could feel his hardening cock pressing against my thigh, even through the two layers of denim separating us.

Twisting my head to one side, I gasped for air. Stop it.

He chuckled and since I’d turned my mouth away, moved his lips to my earlobe. Why?

Because I’m still angry at you.

You’re cute when you’re angry.

I turned my head back, unable to believe he’d just said something so corny. That mistake brought my mouth back into range of his, and he stifled my protests exactly as he’d done a couple of minutes before. I didn’t need anyone to draw me a map to tell me my husband expected to get me naked on the couch within the next few minutes. My arms pulled him tighter, letting him know I wasn’t averse to the idea. His hands slid down my flanks, finding the waistband of my jeans then scrabbling at the fabric of my top to pull the hem clear. I sighed into the kiss as his fingers found bare flesh, then arched my back to allow him to pull it clear all the way around.

Greg lifted up a little, allowing me to lift my back of the couch enough for him to pull my top higher, exposing my stomach, then before I could move he pushed me back down, pinning me to the couch. The leather was cool on my back, and I shivered, and I guess he took that as an invitation. He moved quickly. Pulling my tee shirt up and almost wrapping my head and my arms in it. Entangled, I was a sucker for his next move, and I felt his hands at my cleavage, and then the satin of my bra relaxed across my breasts as he undid the front clasp.

Hey! I guess the tee shirt muffled my words as he pulled the two cups to the sides exposing my familiar breasts to his eyes, topped by already hardening puffy nipples. I waited, either for him to help me sort out the tangle of clothes around my arms or drop his hot mouth to the tip of one breast while his fingers found the other. Greg had always been a breast man, and he rarely left them alone once he had them exposed. Since my nipples were sensitive, I never complained, but today he surprised me.

His hands dipped down to my waist, and as I struggled with my clothing, trying to free my head as well as my arms, he undid the snap on my jeans then pulled the zip down. Returning to my waist his hands jerked the waistband a couple of inches lower, snagging my panties too then before I could free myself, his hand slid down into the opening v at the front.

His fingers slipped down under the elastic of my panties and then headed further south. I gasped as they combed through the sparse hair of my landing strip, then continued down into the heat emanating from my slit. He found the naked lips and his middle finger sank into the gap between them, rubbing gently up and down the fleshy and increasingly moist flesh of my outer lips.

I groaned and finally managed to free my head from the confines of my shirt.

No fair.

From where I’m sitting it’s very fair.

I still hadn’t managed to free my arms as his head descended to mine. Giving up the unequal struggle, I slid my legs a bit further apart and responded to his kiss. As always his kiss had the power to turn me to jelly, and he was well on the way to reducing me to a puddle on the couch before he tore his lips away. My hips were thrusting up at his fingers as he continued to stroke my pussy, his fingers sinking further into the slit with each pass. My clit was under constant stimulation as his hand slid over it, gently pressing down on the little nub. Leaving my mouth, he started to leave a trail of tiny kisses down over my chin onto my neck and then further down onto my chest. I groaned as his lips found the upper slopes of my breasts and he continued to rain little kisses as he circled in toward my left nipple.

Above my head, I finally managed to free one arm from the tangle of tee shirt and bra strap and brought my hand down toward his head. As his mouth found my nipple and sucked it inside the hot wet cavern my hand found the top of his head and held him tight against it as I arched my back pressing my breast flesh into his mouth. His teeth nipped