Cowboy Casanova - Lorelei James [4]
The only change during their second year of marriage was their sex life became more perfunctory. But they’d talked about it, Dean assuring her that desire fades. Reminding her that friendship, companionship, open communication, common interests and mutual career goals were far more important than sex.
During their third year of marriage, what Ainsley thought she’d loved about Dean began to drive her crazy. His insistence on everything being a joint decision. From where they ate dinner, to the type of wine they drank, to which place changed the oil in their cars. When he asked for her help in choosing a spring vacation destination, she’d suggested that he surprise her. He argued surprises weren’t fun. She argued meticulous planning wasn’t fun. That’s when they started to argue about a lot of other things.
Ainsley realized while she appreciated some aspects of a well-ordered life, there was something missing in hers. Passion. Excitement. Spontaneity.
One night, in year four, she’d decided to rev up their sex life. She stripped in the living room in front of the TV, dropped to all fours and asked Dean to fuck her from behind.
Flustered by her crude demand, Dean refused.
She tried again a few weeks later, on the way home from a cocktail party. Tipsy and feeling naughty, she tried to give Dean a blowjob in their Volvo.
Flustered once again, Dean refused.
The following month her attempt to entice him into light bedroom bondage using his Brooks Brothers’ ties netted the same result: a big fat no. As did her suggestion that he punish her wanton, wicked ways with a spanking.
At that point Dean suggested she needed counseling.
At that point Ainsley suggested he needed Viagra.
And that’s when their supposedly perfect marriage fell apart. Not only because Ainsley craved variety in the bedroom, but the way she’d voiced her concerns to her husband—he wasn’t seeing to her needs—had put Dean on the defensive. He became cruel. Cutting. Condescending. What she saw as an attempt to improve the intimacy in their marriage Dean saw as her attempt to force him into becoming a type of man he wasn’t. A type of man he’d never be.
So for all her bold talk, in the last year and a half since her divorce, Ainsley hadn’t done a single thing to take charge of her sexuality except increase her collection of vibrators.
One night after an extra glass of liquid courage, she’d asked Layla for advice on how to kink up her sex life. Because Layla’s relationship with her longtime squeeze, Murphy, was kinky indeed—Layla was a fulltime submissive and Murphy was her dominant.
It’d been difficult wrapping her head around the concept; Layla willingly ceded control to Murphy in all aspects of her life—not just sexually. When Layla had lived in Denver, Ainsley had known Murphy worked in a club, but not what kind of club. But she’d never imagined a sex club, because she had no flipping clue places like that even existed outside fictional novels.
She planned to get a real education about it tonight.
She scooped up Layla’s risqué lingerie and slunk into the bathroom. She stripped and added a piece at a time, ignoring the pooch in her belly. Next week she really had to start working out again. The kimono hit mid thigh and adequately covered her jiggly ass. Five minutes after her thirty-seventh birthday her body had started to sag like an ugly old couch. Not that she’d ever in her life been a toned size two.
Now is not the time to revisit your body issues. Think sexy, act sexy, be sexy.
Once she’d tugged on her outfit, she pinned up her hair, securing it with a hairnet. She unzipped the bag and slipped the wig from the Styrofoam dummy’s head, settling it onto her own.
After jabbing a million bobby pins into her scalp, Ainsley angled closer to the mirror, smoothing flyaway strands with her fingers. The