Joanne's Story: The A-Z of Trophy Wives, #10

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.

 

Despite being what he called in jest, his trophy wife, John, allowed his younger wife to keep her job. Joanne knew her husband had too low a sperm count to give her children, and neither wanted to adopt. For five years, they focussed on their careers, and although his took off, hers stagnated.

That changed when her company was taken over. The two new bosses were aggressive businessmen, and they went after what they wanted.

And what they wanted was Joanne.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.D. Grey
• Release date: Sep 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223719915

Book preview

Chapter 1

I’d expected one look at my face to be enough to tell John there was a problem, but I guess he didn’t really look up. Seeing as he was home first, he’d started on the prep for dinner and called out over his shoulder.

Hi, sweetie, how was your day?

I just shrugged, then realized he wasn’t looking, so dropped my attaché case down next to his much larger pilot’s briefcase, or should that be auditor’s briefcase, because that’s what he was, and let the front door close behind me. At the last second, I gave it a bit of a kick with my left heel, and it closed with a satisfying slam.

At least that got my husband’s attention. He came bustling through from the kitchen wiping his hands on a tea-towel.

Joanne...? He took one look at my face, and the initial reaction kicked in. I checked the clock, even though I knew it was past the six o’clock deadline. We weren’t allowed to say anything to anyone until after that point. We’d had to sign a piece of paper to that effect.

We got taken over.

What? But...

I shrugged. We got taken over. Stonehouse Paper Supplies is now a subsidiary of Bright and Walker Paper and Paper products. Effective of six o’clock tonight.

Oh.

I glared at him. Seeing as your company handled the due diligence for B and W, I’d have thought it wouldn’t have been a big surprise for you.

His mouth flapped open and shut again. I knew I wasn’t being fair. Just as I and half-a-hundred other senior staff had been ushered into a conference room and been asked to sign a confidentiality agreement at eleven this morning, the same would have been true for John, only double. As the auditor, or rather a CPA working for the firm of auditors involved, there was no way he could break the news to me. It would have put not only his job but his professional reputation on the line.

Sweetie, you know...

I couldn’t help it, I snapped at him. I know, you couldn’t, blah-di-blah-di-blah. I need a drink, or three.

He forced a smile. It’s supposed to be me that says that.

I rolled my eyes, I was wound up, so tight I was literally out of sight, and he was smiling and cracking lame lines like that. Let me simplify that. Wine, red. One glass. Now.

He stared at me for a long second then licked his lips. Yes, mistress. One glass of red wine coming up. As he turned away, he started to imitate a woman walking suggestively. It was an act, there were few men more definitely macho than my husband, even if he was an office worker, and the resultant wiggle of his ass looked absurd.

It worked though, my anger dissipated, dissolved away, and I cracked up laughing. Hysterical laughter, even I could tell the difference.

A second later he was by my side, pulling me into a hug, and cradling my head against his shirt as I wrapped my arms around him and let the tears flow. I sobbed into his shoulder while he cradled me, his strong arms supporting me while at the same time remaining gentle. It was that same dichotomy that had charmed me into his bed and then given me the most orgasms of my life that night. A record he then surpassed on no less than three occasions during our honeymoon. After the day I’d had, just holding me was enough.

The storm of weeping didn’t take long, I wasn’t prepared to let it do that to me or let them do that to me. I’d spent four happy years at Stonehouses. Four happy years as I worked my way up the corporate ladder, without stepping on other people to do so. John had encouraged me every step of the way, now all that careful work seemed to be coming crashing down. Once the transfer was complete, the redundancies would start. Brights had plenty of account managers, good ones too, so I already considered myself to be working my notice, even if it hadn’t been made official.

You okay, sweetie?

I pushed against him, and he let me straighten up. Even with my three-inch heels, he still had a good three inches on me. I guess.

Hey, you have a job to go to in the morning?

I nodded.

Then it’s not so bad. I’ve seen these things happen a lot quicker. When Robinsons took over Pintners last year, they walked in, made the announcement and pink-slipped the entire head office staff the same day.

I bit my lip and nodded, I’d heard that story. Did you know?

He shook his head. No, sweetie. My place is real careful like that. They have a list of key staff professional relationships. As soon as the job came up for tender, they’d have red-flagged me from any contact. I knew we were doing a job for Brights, but nothing more than that.

I took a deep breath. I know, sorry about what I said, you know, earlier.

He leaned in close and placed a kiss on my tear-streaked cheek. Hmm... salty, which is what the salad will be if I don’t get it rinsed off. Dinner’s in thirty minutes. You’ve got time for a shower first.

Thank you.

If you want, once I’ve got the salad rinsed and the potatoes on, I’ll bring you that wine up...?

I chuckled and shook my head. If he brought me a glass of wine into the shower, the salad would go limp faster than he would. The potatoes would boil dry and burn too.

Perhaps not a good idea. I decided to tease back. Unless you want to skip dinner and order a takeaway later...?

He reared up as if affronted. What, after spending the last forty minutes prepping? Don’t be silly.

I smiled and headed for the stairs.

Sweetie...

I turned and looked back, not surprised to see a large grin on his face. Hmm...?

Seeing as you said you were sorry, I can think of a way you can make it up for me.

You can? I rolled my eyes, I knew what he meant.

Yeah, I think I’ll put the desert back in the freezer. The desert I want is hot.

I shivered at the implication and started up the stairs without answering. I knew what he meant, and parts of my body flooded with warmth at the prospect. His hot desert would be a simple dish, me. By the time I’d reached the top of the stairs, I was starting to regret, no make that, totally regretting, denying him his visit to me in the shower.

* * * *

The main course might have only been steak with soft boiled potatoes and a crispy, simple, side salad, but it was delicious. I hadn’t had any kind of appetite when I walked into the house, but when I walked back downstairs in a simple cotton sundress after my shower, my mouth watered at the smells emerging from the kitchen.

John must have heard me on the stairs because he met me at the entrance to the kitchen with a large glass of red wine and steered me in the direction of the dining room where he’d already set the table. I smiled a thank you and turned toward the dining room. That was, of course, a classic mistake because his hand landed on my left butt cheek with a stinging slap that made me jump. However, his hand lingered, caressing my ass to take the sting away. I knew what he was really doing. Nothing to do with removing the sting, what he was doing was checking for the presence of underwear.

I gave him a reproachful look over my shoulder, but he just grinned. He’d found out what he wanted to know. He’d made a suggestion before I went upstairs, and I’d returned downstairs prepared for what he wanted. He might be a mild-mannered CPA to everyone else, but when it came down to sex, my husband wasn’t exactly mild-mannered. He’d shredded far too many pairs of my panties over the last five years, and he didn’t show any sign of stopping that particular method of removing the obstacle to his prize. I had no intention of stopping him, either, my libido was at least as high as his. If not higher, I’d always preferred my men on the strong side, personality as well as body. No, all I was doing was protecting my diminishing collection of underwear. Despite his occasional protestation that I should go commando all the time, there was no way I was going to go without underwear at work. Going commando at home, just for him, was my way of getting what I wanted.

Satisfied I was naked under the dress, he caressed my ass again and then whistled as he headed back to the kitchen. If he thought I didn’t notice the quick, furtive adjustment to the front of his pants, he needed to think again. Yep, he wanted his desert all right, and that was me. I wasn’t quite going to tell him I was ready and willing, let him work on that a bit. I was more than ready. A decent love-making session, or for that matter just a make-out session would be enough to take my mind off work.

We didn’t talk about work over dinner, in fact, the steak was so good, so tender, brown on the outside, dripping red on the inside, the way I like it, I wasn’t in the mood for any kind of conversation. Well, that’s not completely true. There was a conversation going on, but it wasn’t a verbal one. Every time I leaned forward to cut a piece of my succulent steak, my breasts hung forward inside my dress, and my cleavage seemed to deepen. Of course, as I realized where his eyes were going, I exaggerated my movements, teasing him, knowing I’d reap the rewards after dinner. It became a game for me, one that I’d played before and we both loved. I’d tease him until he had to reach down and adjust the front of his pants, and then I’d lean back and pretend nothing had been going on.

As the amount of food left on my plate dwindled to a few bites, and finally down to one, and then none, my breathing got faster and faster. I knew what was coming, and my body was reacting to it. We had