completely different planets. Jennifer didn’t
60 Georgia Beers
know where her husband was, but she was certain that it wasn’t in
bed with her.
When he had finished, he’d eased out of her, panting and
sweaty. He’d rolled onto his back with a sigh and within minutes,
he’d begun to snore.
Jennifer continued to stare at the ceiling, trying to decide if she
should go on blaming this now-chronic problem on Eric’s long
hours and stressful job, or if it was time to look more closely at
things, to delve deeper and try to get to the real issue. She wasn’t
completely unaware that she had her own issues, that she brought
her own crap to the table. She knew deep down that blaming things
entirely on him was unfair, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to
look in the mirror and really see.
Eric snuffled and rolled onto his side, away from his wife. She
looked at his back, her eyes roving over his milky-white skin, her
mind thinking how he’d been shut up in his office too long and that
he could use some sunshine. She ran her fingertips lightly across his
broad shoulders with a heavy sigh. Then she slipped those same fin-
gers between her thighs, probing and stroking knowingly, searching
for release.
She came quietly next to him. He slept on.
* * *
At barely six thirty in the morning Eric Wainwright maneu-
vered his silver Mercedes through the tollbooth and onto the New
York State Thruway, heading west toward Buffalo. He hated this
time of the day; he hated being stuck in his car for nearly two hours.
It gave him way too much time to think, something he’d been trying
to avoid lately as he didn’t like the direction his thoughts were tak-
ing. That’s why he opted to stay in Buffalo so often. The alone time
in the car was just too daunting.
He thought back to the previous night and the morning. Dinner
with Jennifer had been pleasant once he’d kicked his nasty mood.
She’d been a big help in getting him out of it. She always was. She
knew how to change the subject or how to bite her lip to keep from
snapping back at him, which he usually deserved. She’d just kept
talking about her new volleyball team and how excited she was to
play. Once she’d pulled him away from the subject of work, he’d
been okay. And she’d seemed so happy to have him home…her
voice had been a little flirty and there was a sparkle in her eyes.
He’d incorrectly taken that as the signal he always longed to see,
one she seemed to give less and less since they’d been married.
They’d headed home and he’d immediately made the move,
doing away with her clothes and kissing her hungrily. He grimaced
Thy Neighbor’s Wife 61
as he remembered the rest of the night. It seemed to be a regular
occurrence now, any time they made love—which was hardly ever
at this point. She made no sound, she was barely able to contain her
desire to be anywhere else but with him, beneath him. A small part
of him was ashamed at his own behavior lately, his failure to do
anything at all to help make her more comfortable. God forbid they
actually talk about it. Instead, he simply took what he wanted,
released himself inside her, rolled away and fell asleep. He was dis-
gusted that he’d become such an uncaring lover, but so had Jennifer
and that made him resentful.
If she’s not willing to try, why should I?
Totally childish behavior and he knew it. He also couldn’t seem
to do anything about it. The more he thought about the state of his
marriage, the angrier and more bitter he became. He looked at the
cell phone mounted on the dash and hesitated. After only a slight
internal debate, he punched in the number he was embarrassed to
admit he knew by heart. Even at that early hour he was not sur-
prised when somebody picked up.
“Sensations,” a pleasant and familiar female voice answered,
her tones sounding intimate and affecting even on the speaker-
phone.
“Good morning, Stacy. This is Eric
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