Red Roses Ch. 04 - Yellow Roses

Greetings, reader! If you've not read the previous chapters of the Red Roses series, don't worry. This can basically stand on its own. For anyone following the series, thanks for returning. As always, I take any feedback, whether good, bad, or indifferent, posted in comment or sent via the Feedback tab. Thanks to Privates1stClass for giving this a look-over for me; any remaining errors are mine, from tinkering with it after his edits.

Note to our non-American readers: April 15th is the normal filing deadline for the previous year's income taxes in our country.

#

"Mom!" The shriek cut through my peaceful state of mind. "Mason took my monkey!"

For a moment, I was tempted to ignore it. I'd gotten home not long ago, changed, and only just kicked my slippers off and plopped my feet on the ottoman. If Tabitha yelled again, I was sure Justin would hear and emerge from the study to deal with it—and for a moment, I was tempted to let him.

No, I thought. I can't do that. We'd made a deal and it was my turn to deal with these things. I dropped my feet to the floor and stood, unconsciously running my hands down my pants to smooth the material, and stepped from the living room to the family room.

The two of them looked up the moment I appeared in the doorway. Mason knelt on the floor. He ducked his head from my gaze, though the guilt on his five-year-old face was plain enough. Eyes peeked at me from behind his light brown bangs, and he was clearly wondering how much trouble he was in. He clutched a brown and white sock monkey in both hands.

Standing beside him, Tabitha stood with her hands on her hips and as fierce a glare as a three-and-a-half-year-old could muster. I noted her wavy brown hair—a carbon copy of mine, in tone and textures—had, for once, stayed in its braid.

For a moment, I had to fight back a smile. Our kids were totally adorable, even when they were being little snots to each other. Both Justin and I were only children, so we had no experience with the sibling-rivalry thing. Sometimes they seemed to squabble just because they could. At other times, they were amazingly solicitous, like the time that summer Tabitha had dropped her ice cream cone and Mason had stopped her from crying by sharing with his with her. Those little moments touched my heart and I hoped they would be close and look out for each other as they grew up. For the most part, they got along and played well together. But at the moment, I had to diffuse a crisis.

I crossed my arms and kept my voice level. "Mason? What are you doing with Tabitha's monkey?"

"She said I could play with it."

"Nu-uh!" Tabitha shouted.

I flicked my eyes at her and she stilled. "No yelling, Tabitha. You know better than that. Mason, give it back to her."

He flinched. "But—"

"It's her monkey. Even if she said you could, now she's saying you can't. You have your own toys. If she won't let you play with hers, she doesn't get to play with yours either, okay?"

"Okay," Mason said, satisfied.

"We'll be having dinner soon, so you kids keep it to a dull roar, okay? There's dessert tonight, if you're well-behaved. Does that sound good?"

They both bobbled their heads up and down. Justin and I had tried to keep them eating healthy and desserts were a rarity at our table, so the threat of losing it would occupy their little minds for a few moments, at least. It was probably bad parenting to bribe them with sugar but you can't do it by the book every day.

I pondered returning to the chair and kicking my feet up but stating aloud that dinner was coming reminded me that it was my turn to cook. I wasn't quite ready to do that, so instead, I wandered to the study. The door was open, I paused in the doorway and watched him for a moment.

Justin sat with his back to me at his computer desk. His brow furrowed in concentration and his hands clicked on the keyboard. An engineering program covered the screen. He moved the mouse, rotating the wireframe design of his current project. Justin paused and made a note on the legal pad before continuing. A pair of noise-canceling headphones—probably playing Eagles or Van Halen—covered his ears.

I smiled as I watched him. He had been able to convince his boss that he could work from home several days a week, as long as he stayed plugged into the network and answered team questions. His bosses hadn't been too keen on having their senior engineer out of the office but had reluctantly agreed. A month later, with his productivity better than ever, the issue had been dropped.

My finger traced over the walnut-stained doorframe. We'd bought the house after moving back to Atlanta, after two years in Tampa. As he thought they would, Justin's company offered him the position of senior engineer at the home office and he snapped it up. I was already pregnant with Mason then, and Tabitha had come not long after. After she stopped nursing, I was able to go back to work part-time as a CPA, mostly Monday through Wednesday, with an odd Friday when Justin was off. Justin stayed home with the kids on those days, though he had to work for several hours every evening after I got back.

I focused on Justin. He'd stayed in shape—we both had—and if anything, he was even sexier and more alluring at thirty-three than he was back when we got together in our mid-twenties. He was great with the kids, considerate of me, and showed his love daily. He had been my best friend since we were in elementary school and I loved him like there was no tomorrow.

I sighed. Married for six years to an awesome, sexy man, two kids, all of us healthy, good friends, nice suburban house, no money troubles, and a job I enjoyed. I had everything I thirty-something woman in modern America could want.

So why was I so unsettled?

We're in a rut.

Right from the beginning, Justin and I had had a white-hot love life. Starting with my fantasies about an invader in my home—the 'encounters'—to our dalliance with public sex on our honeymoon, we'd never had any issues with sex. Even now, we were intimate once or twice a week, and sometimes more. I never got tired to making love to my husband but that's kind of what we'd settled into. The passion hadn't disappeared from our life but at times it felt that fiery desire had been muted under the mundane aspects of life, of raising two darling children, and all the accompanying running around.

Staring at Justin's back brought another smile to my face. My mother had always told me that if I was having trouble with someone and wanted to resolve things, that I shouldn't wait on them but should get the ball rolling myself. Of course, if Miss Prim and Proper knew I was about to apply that lesson to my sex life—even my married sex life—she probably would have keeled over. The thought made me blush. I'd gotten much better at discussing such things with Justin but the conditioning and shaming my folks instilled in me ran deep. Even though we'd been lovers for years, I still found it was easier to act than discuss.

Speaking of acting ...

I glanced down the hall. The kids were right in the other room but I could hear them chattering and it sounded like they were buddies again. I looked at Justin again. My gaze outlined his strong shoulders and the side of his handsome face. My desire grew to the point that I couldn't stand it.

I slipped inside the study, shut the door, and locked it. Like a tiger, I paced across the carpet toward my unsuspecting prey. I glanced at his web-cam and microphone that he used for his office meetings. Both were unplugged. Justin only plugged them in when he used them, saying you never knew who was listening or watching. All the better.

Justin didn't like high-backed office chairs, since he said it was too easy to lean back in the chair and doze off. That meant his head was at the perfect, unobstructed height. I peeled off my tee shirt, undid my bra, and flung both to the floor. I crept behind Justin and with a single pounce, grabbed him and pressed my tits against the back of his head.

He jumped, then relaxed. "Jesus, Trish. You scared the crap out of me. What, uh, what are you doing?"

I rubbed my breasts against him. "Teasing you. Is it working?"

He laughed. "Always."

"Oh? Let's check." I leaned around him and ran my hands down his chest, to his khaki shorts. Almost immediately, my fingers encountered a prominent bulge that grew even bigger as I caressed it. "Well look at that. It does seem to be working."

Justin's eyes narrowed. He tossed the headphones on his desk, clicked the SAVE icon on his project, and half-turned toward me. "You looking to cause trouble? The kids are right out there." Even as he said it, his hand found its way between my legs. A gentle thumb caressed my mound through my yoga pants.

I shivered and continued to stroke his stiffening cock through his pants. "They're okay. They're behaving for dessert."

"What's for dessert?"

He fully swiveled the chair to face me. The hand between my legs moved lower. Pressure on my clit made me groan. Justin took that moment to slurp one hard nipple in his mouth. Forceful lips massaged the areola. I groaned. My distracted mind tried to answer. "Uhm ... I made ... peach cobbler."

"Mmm," he murmured. His hands and lips moved faster, as did mine,

After several moments of that treatment, I was soaked. I knew we didn't have a lot of time; even the threat of withholding sweets would only keep the kids quiet for so long. I pulled away from Justin. His eyebrow rose but before he could say anything, I grabbed the hem of his shorts and dragged them, belt and all, down his thighs. He elevated his legs for ease of dragging. His cock sprang free, hard and proud.

I grabbed his hands and pulled them to the hem of my pants. He peeled them halfway down my legs, spun me around, and pulled me into his lap. I reached behind and guided his stiff dick to my waiting pussy. As wet as I was, he slid right in. I trembled as his girth filled me. It wasn't just the sheer pleasure of having his hot, throbbing member separate my insides and all the wonderful quivers and sensation that entailed. It was the knowledge that my lover was inside me, not apart from me. He was where he belonged. Where there were two, there was now one.

Ever so slowly, I began to raise and lower my hips, each time groaning as his dick split me apart. Justin placed his hands on my hips, assisting my pace. I placed one hand on his desk to help my balance. With the other, I caressed my breast and pinched my nipple. Justin groaned and his fingers dug into my hips. Before I knew it, he was thrusting up into me as much as I was riding him.

The familiar tingling in my pussy drove me to harder and harder thrusts against him. I could feel him swelling, pushing against the walls of my snatch with more and more pressure. The smacks of our thighs slapping together filled the room. I bit my lip and covered my mouth to contain my moans. My orgasm broke and I cried out into my fingers. Sweet relief flooded my body and abdomen trembled.

Justin thrust one last time into me and snarled. His cock throbbed and pulsed as he unleashed his steaming load inside me. I stopped thrusting my hips up and down. My pussy was a swampy mess.

Justin panted for breath. "Paper towel."

Without pulling away from his still-hard cock, I grabbed the roll off his desk and passed them to him. He tore one off and patted down both our groins. I held out my hand. He tore off a couple more sheets, and handed them to me. I stood, wincing at the slight cramp in my thighs. I jammed the towel between my legs before I dripped everywhere. I turned to face him, breathing hard.

Justin lay half slumped in the chair, his pants halfway down his legs. His red prick was slowly shriveling and despite his clean-up efforts, a combination of cum and my lubrication matted his pubic hair. He had a glazed, glassy look to his eyes. I imagine I looked a mess as well, being naked from the knees up, with my hair that been bound up in a bun now half tumbled-down, all while I clutched a wadded up paper towel between my legs. I knew I had flushed cheeks and a satisfied half-grin on my lips. Two parents, sneaking a moment of intimacy when we could, and looking mildly ridiculous in the aftermath. I watched Justin watching me and started laughing.

He blinked. "What?"

"Parental quickie."

He smiled and touched my hand. "Still fun."

"Yes." I bent and gave him a quick kiss. "I need to go start on dinner."

"All right. Need help?"

"No, you finish your work." I pulled my pants up and picked up my shirt. "I'll see if the munchkins have killed each other."

Dinner was fine. He and I kept stealing secret glances and smiled at each other while Mason and Tabitha prattled nonstop. Justin cleaned up after we ate and I put the kids down for the evening while he finished the last of his reviews. I finished straightening some things in the living room, then poured myself a half-glass of wine and mentally revisited the early action. It had been quick but explosive. I'd felt an urgency and need in both of us that I hadn't felt in a while, and I liked it.

Maybe I just needed to remind us both that we need that passion. Before I could dwell on it too much, Justin came in. We watched a movie and talked a little before bedtime. He went to around to lock up while I took care of a few last-minute things.

Justin had gotten in bed a few minutes before me. I wasn't sure what I was expecting but when I climbed under the covers, he attacked me, kissing me so forcefully it hurt. Because of the kids, we rarely slept naked anymore but he almost tore my shorts and tank top to shreds. He dove between my legs, tonguing my clit and fingering me until I'd had three orgasms, each more crashing than the one before it. As I was reeling and coming down from the third one, he flipped me over, pulled me to my knees, and rammed his steely dick into me from behind. I yelled into the pillow as he plundered my virtue for ten hard minutes before he coated my womb again. We collapsed to the bed together, snuggled up, and fell asleep. I smiled as I thought, this is how it's supposed to be. My last thought was to think that tonight had been a good first step and that maybe we were on the road to recovery.

And we were. For a little while.

#

Jan paused between bites of her chicken and arched her eyebrow. "So what's going on, Trish?"

"Hmm?"

She motioned at my bowl with her fork. "You're just pushing your lunch around. It's pretty obvious you've got something on your mind."

"No, not really."

"You can't bullshit a bullshitter. Talk to me, girl."

I sighed and pulled the lid back on the plastic container. Justin had made beef stroganoff two nights before because I asked him to. I loved his cooking and loved him for making it for me, even though he didn't care for it all that much. Jan was right, though. My thoughts were keeping my hunger at bay.

I looked around the park. It was a nice, day, by early March standards in Georgia. Jan and her husband Marty had been our friends for years, since before Justin and I were married or even dating. She worked the next block over from me, so we often ate lunch together. When I texted her, she suggested that since the first warm spell of the year had reared its head, that we eat at the little park on the corner. I closed my eyes, inhaled, and enjoyed the cool late-morning air.

Jan cleared her throat. "We're not getting younger here."

"Nothing in particular. Just ..." I shrugged. "I feel like I'm falling into a rut sometimes."

"With the job?"

"With everything. The job, the kids, Justin." I clutched my small Tupperware container in both hands. "Justin and me, we used to be so carefree. We could go anywhere and do anything. Now I feel like we've settled into old adult life. Don't get me wrong, Jan. I adore Mason and Tabitha. I'd never, ever give them up."

Jan nodded. She and Marty had two boys and a girl.

"But sometimes, I'd just like a little spontaneity, you know?"

"Uh-huh." She gave me a long look. "How's your bedroom life?"

I blushed. Jan and I never really talked about that. She knew I was kind of bashful about it. "Uhm, it's fine. We still ... you know, make love. At least once a week. But ..." I trailed off.

"But?"

"But it always feels the same." The dam broke and the words started gushing out of me like I was a broken fire hydrant. "I mean, Justin takes good care of me. I always ... uh, finish, but it's always in the evening, after the kids are in bed. Always kind of follows the same pattern, the same sequence. There was a day six months back, where we did it in his study, while he was working. Kind of quick and dirty but it was spontaneous and amazing. I mean, we actually had some animal passion for each other. The rest of the night, we kept shooting sexy glances at each other. I wanted him and I could tell he wanted me. It wasn't about being a husband and wife but actually about being lovers. When we went to bed, he was so frenzied he almost killed me. I felt great 'cause the passion was so strong. And now, over time, it's kind of gone away and we settled back into the routine again."

My words spent, I looked at Jan. She had a small smile on her face. It suddenly hit me I'd been talking about my sex life, which is something I never did—not even with Jan, who was probably my best friend other than Justin. My cheeks reddened and I lowered my eyes.

Jan chuckled. "We've all been there, kid."

"Who are you calling kid? I'm six months older than you."

"You know what I mean. I love my kids too and sometimes Marty and I do fall into that rut. Last time I realized we were kind of going through the motions, I made Marty sit down and talk to me. I let him know what I was thinking. I made sure I didn't blame him, that we both owned the actions that had got us there, but that I wanted it to change. As it turns out, he had recognized it too and wasn't happy either, but hadn't quite figured out how to approach me. We were able to work it out, because we talked, and kept communicating whenever we thought something wasn't working. I think you should do the same with Justin. He's not unreasonable and we all know how much he loves you."

"I love him too, Jan."

"I know you do. It's Friday. Send the kids to grandma and grandpa tonight. Spend some time reconnecting and get a dialogue going. Talk to the guy."

"I will, Jan. Thanks."

We said our goodbyes and I made my way back to the office. Newfound optimism filled me and I my steps felt lighter, more purposeful. Jan made it sound so easy and the longer I pondered her words, I realized it probably was. Before I dove back into work, I'd call my parents from my office and ask if they wanted Mason and Tabitha for an overnight. I knew they would; Mom and Dad never turned down a chance to take their grandkids and if they had a commitment, Justin's folks would. Mason and Tabitha loved all their grandparents and neither my parents nor Justin's felt any jealousy or resentment over the others having time with the kids—yet another reason I was a lucky gal.

I strolled through the front door of Johnson and Clifford Accounting. Before I'd gotten five steps, I heard my boss's voice. "Trish. A moment?"

I turned to the receptionist desk. The branch head, Kathy Clifford, stood there. In her late fifties, she had opened the Atlanta branch two decades ago. She was a great boss and had been very good about keeping me on part time. She smiled and waved me over.

Standing beside her was a tall man with wavy brown hair, blue eyes, and a crooked half-smile that highlighted his square chin. The cut of his suit emphasized his strong shoulders and narrow waist. He stood with an easy, confident grace. I guessed he was about thirty. I admit, I stared a little longer than I should have.