Zoe's Story: The A-Z of Trophy Wives, #26

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.

 

Zoe loves to party, but her husband, twenty-three years older, is past the partying stage. Every time he accompanies her, he's a total wet blanket and ruins her fun. Eventually, they reach a compromise. Except for family dos, if they go to a cocktail party, they separate. He finds like-minded drinking buddies in the kitchen, and she mingles with the dancing crowd elsewhere.

For Zoe, it's harmless fun, a little booze, a little dancing, a little flirting, but for some of their regular hosts, it's getting to the point where the teasing has to stop.

The next Friday night party is going to be a party too far for Zoe. Throw in an aging pop star her friend has always had a major crush on, meaning she needs Zoe to run interference with his entourage…

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.D. Grey
• Release date: Oct 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223978763

Book preview

Chapter 1

As the music changed to a slower number, Zoe’s partner extended his hand and took hold of hers. The implication was clear. He didn’t want to stop dancing with her. She raised an eyebrow, but smiled and stepped closer to him. She didn’t want to stop dancing either. She never did. Although she didn’t know him well, at parties like this one, she only knew about half of the people there, she had made sure he’d noticed the rings on her wedding finger.

As a result, she felt safe enough dancing with him, especially as the room held at least half-a-dozen people she knew. His arms went around her, and she put her hands on his shoulders, not enveloping them around his neck. If she’d done that, he[‘d have taken it as an invitation for a kiss. It wasn’t, so by just placing her hands on his shoulders, she could keep him at a distance.

Well, his head at a distance, at least, which she found out only a few seconds later. He pulled her tight against his body, her breasts squashing against his chest as he spun her around. His hands slipped lower on her back. Not down onto her butt, higher than that, but enough to make sure the lower part of her body pressed against him as well. His thighs bumped against hers, and as she moved with the slow beat, one of his thighs managed to work its way between her legs. Not blatantly, but enough that the movement of his leg was pressing, gently, against her mound. She’d been right, this guy was a skilled dancer, he knew all the right moves.

She could feel herself getting a little short of breath, as his masculinity overpowered her. Glancing around, she could see nobody was really paying attention to her and her partner. It meant she could indulge him in a little dirty dancing. Her nipples had tightened inside her dress, and she could feel the heat building lower down, too. He was enjoying himself as well. She could feel the way his cock was expanding and starting to press against her belly. The short, tight black dress did wonders for her figure, but mainly because it was thin. As a result, it provided little in the way of protection from the pressure points on her front, and the warmth of his hands on her back.

Zoe was almost panting for air by the time the track finished, and in the pause between tracks, he could do nothing other than let her go. She took a step back and tilted her head to look up into his face. Despite her heels, he still towered over her. Thank you for the dance, but I need a time-out. She let her gaze flicker downward to rest, momentarily, on the obvious bulge in the front of his pants. You too.

She smiled into her partner’s face before turning and heading to the drinks table in the corner. She wasn’t surprised that he followed her. She gave an inward grin. Perfect, just what she wanted for the rest of the evening. At least this guy, although he’d been a bit sneaky with his leg, didn’t play grabsie with his hands. One or two of the other men she’d danced with earlier had done. It wasn’t unusual after all the men who knew her, knew she liked to dance, and they could get away with a certain amount.

She helped herself to a long tall spritzer but made sure there was a lot more soda than there was wine. Her partner grabbed a beer.

I guess this is where we’re supposed to make small talk before we dance again.

She smiled up at him. You’re right, this is where we make small talk. She gave him her best coquettish look. Mind you, who said we’d be dancing again?

Come on, Zoe. You do have a bit of a reputation, you know.

I do?

Yeah. The dancing queen. You love to dance. Seeing as I’m here on my own, and all of the other guys here are spoken for. I don’t see how you can dance with anyone else.

She frowned at him, but he just chuckled and, rather than continuing, took a long pull at his beer. As he lowered the bottle, she watched as his eyeline dipped. Compared to some of her party frocks, this dress was quite demure. However, the neckline did dip considerably, exposing her cleavage, and she could see his eyes taking in the view. She didn’t try to move to stop him looking, letting him look his fill. After all, Gary always said it was her tits he’d been attracted to first, the way they came into the room a second or so before she did. It was a total exaggeration, of course. She knew she was blessed, but not over-endowed in that department. Her dresses, hell, her whole wardrobe, was designed to enhance her assets. When they’d been dancing, he hadn’t had the chance to look, especially during the last slow dance.

Like what you see?

He smiled back at her. Sure. Who wouldn’t?

She nodded toward a guy several feet away. Paul, over there, for one.

You mean the gay guy?

She giggled. Yes, him.

Actually, I think he likes breasts, it’s just the other end he’s not keen on.

And you would know that how?

Promise I won’t get a slap if I tell? Promise he won’t?

What is this Kindergarten?

He was describing your chest in very glowing terms. Actually, in Kindergarten, it would be kiss-chase, and I don’t think your hubby would like you to play that. Especially not with a guy like me.

Why not with a guy like me?

He leaned in close, whispering his answer in her ear. I’m a freaking good kisser. Usually, when I kiss a woman, I end up fucking her.

She lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle her immediate giggle. Even so, she could feel the heat in her cheeks as her much too sensitive blush reflex set off. Someone’s a bit cocksure of himself.

He shrugged, When you’ve got a talent, flaunt it. Just like you’re flaunting your chest and those fabulous pins of yours. I mean, could that dress be shorter?

She shrugged in turn. I’ve got several that are an inch or two shorter than this one.

Well, with those legs, flaunt it, sweetheart, flaunt it.

What are you two talking about. Watch this one Zoe, he’s a lizard in a lounge suit if ever you saw one.

Zoe grinned at her erstwhile dance partner. She’d recognized the voice of their hostess. Sammie, are you getting jealous? Put those claws away. Besides, isn’t lizard in a lounge suit a bit over the top?

Not for this guy. He’s a serial seducer.

Samantha moved closer, and Zoe stood to one side to let the heavily pregnant woman a little room. Ah, is that where this little one came from?

Samantha rolled her eyes, letting Zoe know she wasn’t taking offense. Hardly. I want a quarterback, not a linebacker.

Zoe couldn’t bite back her bark of laughter. Several heads turned to see what was so funny and then turned away again. Samantha’s husband, Kelvin, was five-nine in his shoes, probably only five-eight in his socks. Zoe’s dance partner had at least six inches on him, maybe even more, he was tall and broad-shouldered with it. Not really big enough to be a linebacker, but Zoe could see what Samantha had meant.

Well, if you ladies are going to stand here and insult me...

Zoe put her hand on his arm. Dance some more, later?

Sure. Need to pay a visit. Let me leave you, girls, to discuss whatever finer points about football you wish.

* * * *

As Zoe poured Gary into the passenger seat, she sighed. Why is it I always end up driving us home?

He blinked as he looked up at her. Because you’re an angel, my perfect, beautiful, angel. He blinked again, looking more like an owl than anything else. By the look of him, he was so far gone, he’d be falling asleep before they were halfway home. There went any plans she’d had for the