Lose Control

Married for five years, Kerri and Malcolm are fully in love. They have a wonderful

little boy, and both are successful business owners. Nothing could be better…except
their sex life. Before Malcolm met and fell in love with his sweet, shy wife, he’d been a
patron of a fetish club, and sexually naïve Kerri was a virgin on their wedding night.

Kerri understands that her husband needs more from her in their marriage bed, but

she doesn’t know if she can give it. She’d been taught never to lose herself in a man
sexually, and it was a lesson well learned.

But her persistent husband encourages her to experience passion, and as she edges

past the terror of letting him in, a new life slowly opens. As the secrets of Kerri’s past
are revealed, it’s a whole new, exciting beginning to their sexual relationship. One that
includes all sorts of toys and more titillating fun than she ever imagined.

Inside Scoop: Get ready for an inspiring ride as Kerri explores her sexuality and her

husband gently introduces her to the BDSM lifestyle.

A Romantica® contemporary erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

O SE

O NTRO L

Anna Leigh Keaton

Dedication

For Kate Austin. You push gently but steadily. There’s so much I couldn’t have

accomplished without your unwavering support. You never pull punches, and it’s just

what I need. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Author’s Note

Some of my stories contain varying levels of bondage and other D/s activities. As

with all of my stories, the characters and events are fictitious, but the BDSM community

is a very real subculture of our society. As a writer, I try to depict the lifestyle in a

responsible way that offers the best entertainment value to my readers. My stories are

not instructional guides, however. Whether you practice BDSM in a relationship is up

to you, but please remember: Safe, Sane and Consensual.

Lose Control

Chapter One

Kerri Anne Shields stepped through the door and pressed her back against the wall,

trying to blend into the darkened shadows. Music, not too loud but with a beat that

reverberated in her chest, surrounded her.

What am I doing?
The question, or a variation of it, had repeated itself continually in her mind since

she’d slipped on the silk top and skin-tight, thigh-hugging leather skirt earlier.

The dim lighting of the club wasn’t low enough, she thought as she scanned the

tables and lounge areas. It was a massive room with a polished bar at one end long

enough to seat twenty, bottles of expensive liquor sparkling in the glow from the

recessed lighting overhead.

The small round tables, fanning out from a darkened stage, were nearly full. There

were men sitting with men, women with women, couples, and some tables with three

or four in every state of dress from casual denim to leather to…Kerri gulped. Nothing.

There were women sitting at those tables, some on chairs, some perched on men’s laps,

others on their knees next to the chairs, completely naked except for collars around their

necks. Some were attached to leash-like things that their… Oh dear God, what am I doing

here?

Owners. Masters.
She dabbed her fingers over her perspiring top lip. She wasn’t sure she could do

this. Sensory overload. Tension and lust filled the air, and she fought against their

grasping, invisible fingers.

Her gaze shifted to the lounges, set up a few steps higher than the tables against the

long wall. These rounded booths were surrounded on three sides by high backs, which

kept them private from the other booths. But from her vantage point, she could see into

each one of them. Some were totally dark, others had flickering candles on the tables.

All had people in them. The place was packed.

What she tried not to see, not to stare at, were the couples engaged in sexual

contact. But how could she ignore such a thing when she was surrounded by it? When

the curiosity nearly consumed her? These people were doing in public things she

refused to do in the privacy of her own bedroom.

In one booth, a woman was beneath the table, her head bobbing up and down, the

man’s eyes half closed in obvious ecstasy. At a table not ten feet from where she stood,

two men kissed, deep and with tongues while one of them fondled the other’s exposed

penis. And at yet another table, a woman on the floor on her knees touched herself

intimately while the man seated next to her watched and tugged at his erection.

Anna Leigh Keaton

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. Her heart thudded too hard. Her mouth was dry. Her

body tingled every time she let her gaze wander to a new scene.

Kerri eased sideways toward the exit. She needed to leave before she lost the tight

hold she had on herself.

“Hey, baby.”
She stifled a yelp as Malcolm stepped out of the shadows.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to show.” He moved close to her, cupped her cheek

in one big hand and lightly pressed his lips to hers.

That one little touch made her shiver as visions of what went on around them

clouded her mind.

When he pulled back, she searched his dark eyes. Did he really want to have sex

with her in public? In front of an audience? Surely she wasn’t the only one who stared

so openly.

The strange thing was, the thought didn’t disgust her. In fact, looking into

Malcolm’s eyes, taking in his dark Italian complexion, she felt a tiny wave of need she

tried so desperately to quash.

Kerri raised her hand and touched his chest, the silk of his shirt, smooth and warm

beneath her fingers. He was the epitome of walking lust, dressed all in black. With his

dark hair, dark eyes and the build of an athlete, he was an imposing figure. But she’d

been with him long enough to know he was as soft as a marshmallow on the inside.

She licked her lips with a quick flick of her tongue. If he was such a marshmallow,

why here and why now? The Devil’s Den wasn’t a place for a tender, gentle man. She

hadn’t known the place existed a month ago. Not until Malcolm told her about it and

asked her to read a couple books he’d bought for her.

Books about submission and dominance. Bondage and discipline.
The lights dimmed even more, and a spotlight flicked on, illuminating the stage,

drawing Kerri’s attention.

In the center of the stage, a woman stood, naked, attached to some kind of X-shaped

contraption that kept her arms and legs spread wide.

“That’s called a Saint Andrew’s Cross,” Malcolm whispered.
His warm breath on her ear made her shiver and fist her hands to keep from

touching him.

She’d read about things like the St. Andrew’s Cross. It was less elaborate than she

expected. “What’s going to happen to her?”

“Watch.”
From the right entered a man dressed in all black leather—vest, pants and a hood

that covered everything but his eyes and mouth.

Lose Control

Kerri’s gut clenched, and she looked away. The figure was scary, but that wasn’t

why she couldn’t watch. Kerri’s self-control was slipping, and she couldn’t let that

happen. She was strong. She needed to fight the urges.

Malcolm’s gentle hand lifted her chin and turned her face toward the stage.

“Watch.” His voice was firm yet soft, and she glanced up into his eyes once again.

“I want you to watch and tell me if what you see makes you wet.”
Her breath caught for an instant because her nipples tightened at his words. Who

was this man? Malcolm didn’t talk to her like that.

He turned her head again so she looked at the stage. The hooded man held a riding

crop, and he was teasing it over the woman’s breasts, flicking the little leather piece

across her nipples.

Malcolm wrapped his arm around Kerri’s waist, his big, warm body along her side,

his hand settled proprietarily at her hip. The position was common enough in their

relationship, but right now, it felt different. Very possessive. Very sexual.

Those books she’d read talked about the give and take, push and pull of a

discipline-submission relationship. All very technical. Scientific.

Logical.
The fact that her tummy quivered as she watched that horribly masked man fondle

the woman’s breasts with a hard piece of leather was definitely not discussed in those

books.

The shot of excitement at seeing a naked woman spread out like that was new and a

little terrifying. Kerri was one hundred percent heterosexual, but that woman, with her

big breasts, small waist and flared hips, was beautiful. Tantalizing to look at. The

expression of rapture on her face as the man slowly lowered the tip of the riding crop,

over her belly, to the neatly trimmed thatch of pubic hair, made Kerri yearn to let go

and let herself experience all she tried so hard to avoid.

Did she, herself, want to be bound naked and watched by several dozen people?
Kerri bit her tongue and gave her head a small shake.
No, she was sure she did not. That was not who she was. This was not who she

was. She was not leather and silk. She wasn’t a woman to submit to anyone, especially

her husband. She’d worked too hard to maintain her independence, to never let her

sexual needs dictate how she functioned.

When the woman’s soft moan carried to her across the room, Kerri’s core clenched,

and she had to look away.

Tears stung her eyes and she tried to blink them back. She could not battle the urges

when surrounded by so much brazen sexual conduct.

“Shh,” Malcolm whispered in her ear. “It’s okay.”
He didn’t try to make her look at the naked woman again. Instead, he stepped in

front of her and laid his warm, soft lips against her temple.

“You’re not ready for this. Let’s go home, baby.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

Her heart ached; disappointment in herself weighed her down, but she nodded and

turned for the door.

Malcolm needed more than she gave him. But to give him everything would ruin

her. He was unsatisfied and it broke her to know it was she who kept him from being

happy.

She was weak and it shamed her. She should be strong enough that she could

watch such sexual congress without so much need building within her.

Malcolm held the door for her, and she stepped out into the night, sucking in the

damp chill of early fall into her lungs. Malcolm slipped his hand into hers, and they

walked to her car, where he held the door for her and she got behind the wheel.

Finally, Kerri looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Mal. I…”
He kissed her to silence her. “I’ll follow you home.” He kissed her again and then

shut her door, smiled at her through the window and winked. He wasn’t upset with

her.

He never got upset with her.

* * * * *

Malcolm pulled into the two-car garage just moments after Kerri, but she was out of

her car and at the door to the house before he could shut the door of his pickup.

“Ker…”
She stopped and turned toward him, her hand on the doorknob.
God, she looked hot in that short skirt and skin-tight tank. He’d never seen his wife

so bare in public, and it had done what he’d thought it would do. Only it obviously

hadn’t done it for her. He’d been a fool to ask her to go to The Devil’s Den. She wasn’t

ready. She probably never would be.

He stepped up to her and kissed her gently. “I love you, babe.”
She smiled up at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know. I love you too.”
“You know—”
The door opened. “Mommy, Daddy!” their son, Justin, cried and threw himself into

Kerri’s arms.

“Hey, munchkin!” Kerri said with a laugh and hugged him tight. “How was your

night with Shelly?”

The girl in question came around the corner from the kitchen. “You guys are home

early. Hey, Mr. Shields. Cool outfit. Like the shirt.”

“Thanks,” Malcolm answered a little self-consciously. Shelly was the daughter of

their next-door neighbor, sixteen and cute in a pimply teen kind of way. She babysat for

them on a regular basis and was more of a big sister to Justin than a sitter.

Kerri moved past Shelly and into the kitchen. Malcolm pulled his wallet from his

pocket and extracted thirty dollars and held it out to Shelly.

Lose Control

“Mrs. Shields was only gone an hour and half. I didn’t earn the whole amount.”
Good kid. “Take it. You can watch him another day for an hour and we’ll call it

even.”

Shelly shrugged and took the cash. “Thanks. Guess I’ll get going then.” She turned

away, and Malcolm followed her into the kitchen where Shelly had set Justin on the

counter and was talking to him.

“Thank you, Shelly,” Kerri said, and gave the girl a quick hug. “If you still want

help tomorrow afternoon on your math, stop on by around two. I should be back from

the shop by then.”

“Great!” With a little bounce in her step, she kissed Justin on his head, gave him a

fake punch to the arm and headed for the front door. “See ya!”

“Later,” Malcolm said. Turning to his son, he asked, “So, how is it you’re still

awake at,” he glanced at his watch, “nine-thirty?”

Justin grinned. Four years old and all cuteness. “Shelly said I could stay up ’til ten.”
Kerri made a mock face of disapproval. “Hmm. We’re going to have to have a little

talk with Shelly, aren’t we? Your bedtime is eight-thirty.”

“Aww, Mommm…”
Malcolm gave his boy a kiss on the head and a little squeeze. “Listen to your mom,

boy. She’s always right.”

“Come on. I’ll read you a book.” Kerri set their son on the floor and took his hand.

They disappeared up the stairs with Justin throwing out little protests about not staying

up later.

Malcolm went to the liquor cabinet above the fridge and pulled down a bottle of

Crown Royal. He poured himself a healthy shot in a rocks glass and headed up to the

master bedroom.

He took off his shirt and flung it over the back of the chair under the window,

kicked off his shoes, then settled against the headboard and grabbed the TV remote.

Often story time lasted an hour, depending on Kerri’s mood and Justin’s begging.

Not twenty minutes later and forty different channels on which he hadn’t found

anything to watch, Kerri came into the bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Damn, damn, damn. She still wore those spiky black heels with the leather straps

crisscrossing up over her ankles. The skirt was soft leather that clung to her like skin.

He came up off the bed, took one last swallow of his drink and moved toward her,

where they met in the middle of the bedroom.

“Justin asleep?”
“Oh yeah. He’s out for the night.”
Malcolm fingered her bare shoulder, teasing the strap of her tank top. “Good.” He

leaned down and kissed her lips softly as he stroked his hand down her side, over her

hip, the soft leather warm from her body.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Kerri leaned into him, raising her hands to his chest and letting out a soft sigh.
He wanted to pin her against the door and take her hard and fast. He needed to

command, demand. But he held himself in check, as he always did with Kerri, and

kissed her tenderly, just barely dipping his tongue between her lips while he touched

her with gentle hands when he wanted to crush her body against his.

Even so, his cock grew hard. His wife was beautiful, sexy, and she smelled like

sunshine and lilacs. Closing his eyes, he kept his touch light while in his mind he did all

the wicked things he dreamed of and his erection strained against his slacks.

Kerri pulled back a little, and Malcolm opened his eyes. “What?” he whispered.
She touched his cheek with her fingertips. “I’ll be right back.” And with that, she

slipped out of his arms and headed toward the bathroom.

Malcolm groaned and sat down on the end of the bed, raking his fingers through

his hair because he knew what would come walking out of that bathroom. Less than

five minutes later, his suspicions were confirmed when out came his sweet little wife,

wrapped from neck to knees in her white cotton nightgown, her face scrubbed clean,

her hair brushed straight. She moved to the door where she flipped off the overhead

light, then to Malcolm’s side of the bed and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into

darkness, save the ambient glow of the streetlights filtering through the lace curtains.

She climbed between the sheets and let out a little sigh as she straightened the

covers. Malcolm stood and dropped his pants, shoving his boxers down with them. He

pushed off his socks and climbed into bed next to her.

Her arm came around him, and they kissed. Softly. Gently. Malcolm fisted the back

of her nightgown, silently cursing the fabric. He reached down and slid his hand up her

thigh, over her waist, and cupped her breast in his palm.

Kerri jerked back, and in the dim light, her eyes widened as he palmed her breast,

feeling her nipple harden beneath his hand. He moved over her, kissed her harder, sank

his tongue into her mouth. She hesitated a moment, but then her arms wrapped around

his neck, and she relaxed beneath him, letting him kiss her as he wanted.

With one hand still on her breast, he dropped the other between her legs, coaxing

his fingers between her soft pussy lips and teasing her clit.

Her breath stuttered, her hips bucked just a little, her warm juices slicked his

fingers.

“Oh yeah,” he whispered against her lips. “You like that, don’t you?”
He sank one finger into her, then two, while he tasted the sweet flesh of her neck.

When he pinched her nipple, her cunt clenched around his fingers, and she gasped.

“Mal…”
He kissed her again, deep, wet, hungry.
She responded tentatively, her fingers in his hair.

Lose Control

He removed his fingers from her and slid into her heat, all the way, deep, hard. The

need overtook him and he fucked her without finesse. His mouth just above hers, their

lips brushing, he breathed her in, his sweet wife.

She clung to him, her arms around him, but her eyes were squeezed tight. Did she

fear him? Did she think he’d hurt her?

Those thoughts killed him a little inside.
He slowed his movements, and her worried brow smoothed. He kissed her softly

again, and she touched his cheek, tilting her head, relaxing into the kiss.

Son of a bitch.
His body ached from holding back his need to find the release he craved, but he

couldn’t frighten his wife. The woman of his heart.

So, as always, he eased over her, pumping slowly, and after many, many long

moments, Kerry found her release with a soft sigh, her cunt fluttering just enough to

help him over the edge. Unsatisfied but empty, he rolled onto his back and flung his

arm over his eyes.

Kerri scooted against his side, resting her head on his chest. After a few long

moments she whispered, “I—”

“Don’t.” He rolled into her, wrapping her in his arms. The problem wasn’t hers, it

was his. He’d cope with it, as he had the last five years. “Go to sleep, baby. Just…go to

sleep.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

Chapter Two

“I need that shipment by three today,” Kerri said into the cordless phone tucked

between her shoulder and ear. Lifting a fresh batch of baby’s breath from a box, she

huffed in frustration as she listened to Mr. Calamichi make excuses for not delivering

her order on time. “I know there was a problem with the truck, but I have a deadline to

meet. I can’t exactly go to the bride two days before her wedding and say, ‘Sorry, the

delivery truck broke down. Take some carnations instead of the roses you paid through

your nose for’.”

Mr. Calamichi promised to try to make the three p.m. delivery time, but he didn’t

sound very positive about it. Kerri flipped off the phone and set it on the counter.

“Patrick!”
Her assistant came around the corner from the back room. “Yes?”
“Get these in the cooler. Pick out the broken stems first.”
He nodded and reached for the bundle of baby’s breath, but the look on his

handsome young face told her she was sounding bitchier than usual.

“Sorry, Pat. I’m worried about the roses for the Baker wedding.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is, Kerri? You’ve been a little off all week.”
Kerri shook her head and rounded the counter to get back to her invoices.

“Everything’s fine.” But it wasn’t, and she wasn’t even trying to kid herself that it was.

Her employee, though, didn’t need to know her personal problems. “I’ll try not to bite

your head off anymore,” she said, offering him a small smile.

Patrick chuckled. “It’s a deal.” He headed for the walk-in cooler but stopped

midway across the shop. “But if you need to talk, I’m a good listener.”

She smiled for real this time. “Thanks, Pat.”
Ever since last Friday night, she’d been a bundle of nerves, walking on eggshells at

home. Half the time, her stomach was upset, the other half she was in a state of arousal,

the likes of which she hadn’t felt since the month before her wedding.

But this time it wasn’t the normal anticipation of a virgin bride, it was something

more, something bigger, deeper, and it terrified her.

She didn’t know how to achieve the balance of making Malcolm happy and not lose

herself in the process. After five years of marriage, he’d begun to make it clear that what

she offered wasn’t enough. He talked to her about The Devil’s Den. Had suggested they

try new things, new positions, some role play. He wanted her to watch porn with him,

but she’d outright refused because she knew what it would make her feel.

Need. Want. Lust. The urge for him to do to her everything he wanted.

Lose Control

She’d never survive it. It was hard enough to maintain her emotional distance and

not let her body rule her mind when they had plain, normal sex. If she gave him what

he wanted, lost herself in him, she’d lose him. A good wife must always be in control.

Her mother had told her that countless times.

That night after being at the club, he’d been forceful, and it had terrified her that

she couldn’t control her body’s response to his. Not until he slowed down was she able

to catch her breath and gently let her body find release that didn’t make her crazy for

more.

She’d read every book on BDSM Malcolm had given her, and had gone to the

library to research further. There was psychology behind it. If she could keep it

scientific, she could do it for him. She’d agreed to meet him at The Devil’s Den to prove

to herself she could do what he needed, and perhaps being away from home would

make it better. If she was uncomfortable in her surroundings, she wouldn’t fall prey to

her body’s urges.

But as soon as she saw other naked people kissing, fondling, performing sexual acts

in a semi-public forum, all logic left her mind and she just…craved.

Her eyelids slipped shut and in the darkness of her mind, she saw that woman on

the stage tied to that thing. Naked and unashamed, her body beautiful. And then that

man in the mask had touched her, made her moan. What had happened after Kerri and

Malcolm had gone? Had they had intercourse on that stage?

Kerri’s body heated at the thought of watching a live sexual performance. Her core

clenched and her nipples puckered.

“Where do you want…”
Kerri gasped and opened her eyes to see Patrick striding across the shop.
“Ker…you okay? You’re really flushed. You getting sick?”
Her stomach flipped upside down, and yes, she thought she might throw up.

Without a word, she dashed for the bathroom in the back, locked herself in and sat

down on the closed toilet seat.

Her stomach clenched even as her groin throbbed with arousal.
Tears prickled her eyes.
She needed to please her husband, but how could she keep control if she gave him

what he wanted? All week, all it took was a brush of Malcolm’s hand against her, a

quick kiss goodbye as they parted ways in the mornings, and her body came alive. Her

control was slipping, slipping, slipping from her grasp.

* * * * *

Malcolm held the door for Kerri as she climbed up into his F250. Her gorgeous ass

was clad in black slacks that cupped it ever so sweetly, and his mouth practically

watered. He hadn’t touched her in a sexual way in almost a week, not since last Friday’s

debacle at The Devil’s Den, and then later in bed.

Anna Leigh Keaton

It wasn’t from a lack of trying on his part, he thought as he shut the door and

rounded the hood to get behind the wheel. But Kerri had a “Closed For Business” sign

plastered on her body that he could read loud and clear. She hadn’t been this uptight

and shut down from him since she was pregnant. He was lucky this past week if he got

a kiss goodbye in the morning in the driveway before they left for work.

The ride to the little Italian restaurant was silent. He didn’t know what to say. He’d

hurt her, and it killed him that he had, but he wasn’t sure an apology would solve

anything. What they needed to do was talk about it. About everything. He just had no

idea of the right words to use. Whenever he wanted to discuss sex with her, she tended

to clam up and shut down.

Since the day he’d met sweet, shy Kerri Ann Thomas when he walked into her little

flower shop to buy a bouquet for his mother, he’d loved her. From the first, she was

different from other women. He’d always had any woman he wanted, whenever he

wanted. He’d been a playboy of the worst sort. But Kerri hadn’t fallen at his feet. In fact,

it had taken weeks for her to accept his invitation for a date, and five dates before she

allowed him a chaste kiss good night. He hadn’t touched her boobs until the night he

proposed to her. And he took her virginity on their wedding night.

She was a good girl. A very good girl.
He honestly thought that once they were married, he’d bring out the buried

temptress inside the cool, naïve and often aloof exterior. He knew every trick in the

book. Hell, he’d written a few chapters of the book himself! There hadn’t been a single

woman he’d set his sights on who hadn’t eventually fallen to her knees and begged for

more.

Except his wife.
He wasn’t sure he could live the rest of his life without the passion he craved. He

didn’t want to. There had to be something that could bring out the fire in her.

She had orgasms. He knew she liked sex to an extent. She just refused to let herself

really enjoy it, to have fun with it, as it should be.

He’d been such a moron to ask her to go to The Den last week. That club had been a

playground for him in his former life—his life before Kerri. He’d thought if he asked

her to read about BDSM, about the psychology behind it, she’d get it. Kerri was nothing

if not pragmatic. She’d even agreed to wear the sexy clothing he’d purchased for her

when he told her she’d stand out if she showed up in her business suit. If nothing else,

he’d expected her to take a scientific approach to the club.

Instead, he’d felt her tremble, and when he looked into her eyes, there had been

tears. His heart had shattered that he’d done that to her. He couldn’t stand to see his

wife cry, because she did it so seldom. She normally held her emotions in check.

He parked in front of the restaurant and got out. Kerri waited for him to open her

door before she took his proffered hand and slid to the ground, her sensible low-heeled

black dress shoes crunching in the gravel.

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The maitre d’ knew them well and seated them without delay at their favored table

along the wall of windows overlooking the busy downtown street. Malcolm ordered a

carafe of house red and didn’t bother picking up his menu. Kerri sat with her hands

folded in her lap, her gaze fixed somewhere over his right shoulder, her lips pressed

into a thin line.

Once the waiter left with their orders, Malcolm cleared his throat. “How’s work

going?”

Kerri’s gaze shifted to his, and she gave him the tiniest shrug. “Fine. Big wedding

on Saturday. I’ll be working late tomorrow night and then will have to set up Saturday

morning. You’ll be fine with Justin?”

He nodded. Unlike Kerri, Malcolm made his own hours. As a contractor and owner

of the Shields Construction, he could usually take Justin with him if needed. Their son

loved construction sites and thought it was cool to wear a hard hat.

“Do you have any plans for Saturday night?” he asked as the waiter returned with

the wine.

Kerri picked up her glass as soon as it was poured and took a hefty swallow. “Can’t

think of any.”

“Maybe family night out? Movie and pizza with Justin? You haven’t been spending

much time with him lately, as much work as you’ve been doing.”

Her eyes practically flashed fire, and Malcolm let out a slow breath while mentally

kicking himself. That had certainly not come out the way he’d wanted it to. “Ker—”

“Yeah, I get it. I work a lot. Unlike you, I can’t just take an afternoon off if I feel like

it.” Her voice was low, but there was steel in her tone. “People need their flowers.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Justin and I would both like to spend

some time with you, as a family. We haven’t done—” He cut himself off before he

stepped any deeper in it. “Would you like to go to a movie and dinner with us on

Saturday night?” he asked, desperately trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

She took another swallow of wine. “Yes. That would be nice. Thank you.”
The salads were served and Malcolm didn’t have to make more small talk. It wasn’t

like Kerri to get uptight about what he said or how he said it. The underlying problem

needed to be dealt with, but not here in a restaurant. His own temper was a little close

to the surface, and because his wife had tender feelings, he tried to never raise his voice

to her.

The silence grew thick, though, and he said, “We put in bids on two condo

complexes today. I think we’ll get at least one of them. Multimillion-dollar jobs.”

“Congratulations.”
He loved how she daintily patted her napkin over her mouth. So proper. It was

these little things that had endeared her to him in those first few months of dating. She

was so prim, so composed.

Anna Leigh Keaton

If he’d only known then that it would still be that way five years into their

marriage…

No, he would have still married her. Because he would still have thought he could

bring out the beast within.

He was beginning to wonder if she even had a beast.
“I love you,” he said softly and reached across the table, laying his hand palm up.
The ice seemed to melt around her eyes, and she sighed and slipped her small hand

into his. “I love you too, Malcolm.”

When he smiled, her eyes got a little misty. He wanted to beg her to…to what? He

wasn’t sure. She’d never be ready for The Devil’s Den, of that he was positive. But there

had to be more. Everything about their marriage was perfect. Their love was deep, their

son was a blessing, they both had good jobs, great incomes, their house was beautiful

and they were each other’s best friend. They were compatible on every level…except

sex.

He hated that he still felt a little empty inside, as if he’d been cheated out of the best

of his wife.

* * * * *

The beginning of the next week was busy for both Kerri and Malcolm. Kerri had

several funerals to make arrangements for, and Malcolm was in negotiations on two

new projects for his company. Finally, on Wednesday night they had dinner at home as

a family, watched a little mindless sit-com television and together put Justin to bed.

Kerri smiled at her husband as they shut the door to Justin’s room and walked into

their own bedroom. “How’d we ever get so lucky to have such a good little boy?” Her

heart was full to overflowing tonight, as it had been Saturday night when they’d gone

out for pizza and then to the latest children’s movie playing at the Cineplex. Justin was

an angel. So well-adjusted to their strange work habits, and he loved spending time

with Shelly, so it wasn’t a hardship when they needed her to babysit.

“It’s all in the genes,” Malcolm said, twirling her into his arms.
She laughed and laid her hands against his chest. “Glad they’re mostly mine then.”
He chuckled. “Half mine.”
“The half that whines? Or the half that hides my car keys and giggles while I search

the house for them?”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at her even as he grinned. “The half who is sweet and

cuddly and wants to please.”

“Ha ha.” Kerri rolled her eyes. “I thought I was the one who tried to please.”
One eyebrow quirked up. “Do you now?”
The teasing was gone, and she recognized the heat in his eyes. They hadn’t

broached the subject of sex, in any way, in well over a week.

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He leaned down and kissed the side of her neck. “Do you want to please me,

baby?” His tongue twirled against the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulder met,

and tingles raced down her spine, right to her core.

Regulating her breaths, she forced a smile and pressed back, away from him. “I’ll be

just a minute.” She needed time to compose herself, steel herself for what was to come.

“No. Don’t.”
Malcolm kept hold of her wrist when she would have gone into the bathroom to

change into her nightgown. She frowned at him. “Don’t?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight.”
Licking her lips, she stared at her husband, silently begging him not to do this.

Please, let me do what I have to do. I’m not ready. I need to prepare.

He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her, his tongue skimming between her

lips, igniting that flame within her she fought so desperately. But her body betrayed

her, and her nipples tightened. She gasped when Malcolm squeezed her bottom and her

core clenched in such a delightful way.

But his other hand was moving against her front, unbuttoning her blouse. She

ignored that hand, concentrating on the kiss that made her body quake, until his fingers

slipped between the lapels of her shirt and into the top of her bra to skim her breasts.

She jerked out of his arms and gripped her shirt together at her throat. “What are

you doing?”

He took the step separating them and pulled her hands away from her breasts. “I’m

trying to have sex with my wife.”

She glanced at the bed, her face hot, her breaths short. She shivered in need, in

anticipation. In desperation.

“Naked,” he said, and in his eyes there was a heat that made her shrink back.
He pulled her against him, pinning her front to his chest. “On top of the blankets.

With the lights on.”

“Why?” was all she could say because shame and arousal warred within her. She

wanted him to look at her, wanted him to touch her in the light. But if she gave in to her

wants, she’d lose control. She must retain control of herself. Passion ruins marriages.

How many times had her mother told her that?

He released her and turned his back on her, swiped his hands through his hair and

sucked in a deep breath before slowly releasing it.

“Malcolm…I don’t…” She swallowed hard and moved in front of him. It was her

duty to satisfy her husband, so she’d get through it. Slow, even breaths. She would not

give her body the upper hand. She was a mature, sensible woman.

“Okay.” She slid the blouse off her shoulders and reached back to undo her bra.
“Oh for the love of— Stop it! Why do you act like such a goddamn martyr because I

want to have sex with you?”

Anna Leigh Keaton

She dropped her hands to her sides and stared at him. That flame of heat in his eyes

had turned to fury. His anger didn’t scare her; the other did—the lust. “I’m just trying

to give you want you want. So what is it you want from me?”

“Passion,” he said between gritted teeth. “Some hot, dirty, sweaty passion.”
Her stomach clenched, but so did her groin, which almost made her gasp, but she

kept it to herself and fisted her hands at her sides. Passion led to not thinking clearly,

which led to all sorts of horrible things. One must always keep one’s head, and passion

was the first sign of losing one’s head.

“I know you like having sex with me. Your body doesn’t lie.” He waved a hand at

her, indicating her middle. “You get wet, your nipples get hard, and you can’t fake the

orgasms you do have, but do they even do anything for you? I’m lucky if I get the

tiniest moan out of you.”

“I like our sex,” she said defensively. She came often; Malcolm had always been a

considerate lover. It was just lately that his…tastes…seem to be changing.

“Yeah? Well I don’t! Would it kill you to…to do something? Move once in a while,

for God’s sake.”

He didn’t like having sex with her. She swallowed hard, fighting back the hurt that

comment caused her. This was what passion did. It ruined marriages. He never used to

mind when she lay still, trying to keep her head about her while her body tingled all

over.

“You just lie there and spread your legs like a damned sacrifice. God, Kerri…” He

closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “You show your passion in your work.” He

looked down at her. “You show your passion with Justin; you’re the best mother in the

world. And I know you love me. I’ve never doubted that for one second. So why can’t

you show it where a husband and a wife are supposed to show it? Why do you hide

your body from me? Why can’t we have a logical discussion about sex? After five years

of marriage I shouldn’t have to play guessing games about when it’s okay to even touch

you!” He huffed out a breath. “You know, it doesn’t matter. You’re still the woman I

married, and I should be grateful for that. Forget it.” He turned to walk out of the room,

but she grabbed his arm.

“Wait. Malcolm. Don’t leave.”
He turned toward her. “I need some air.”
“I don’t understand! I’m willing to let you do whatever you want with me.” Fear

motivated her. She couldn’t lose her husband. Couldn’t let him walk out angry. She

shoved her bra down to expose her breasts to him. “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll

do it. I swear.”

“Passion is what I want!” He threw up his hands in defeat. “I want my wife to fuck

my brains out. I want you to kiss me like I’m your last meal. I want to press you up

against the wall and make you scream my name from ecstasy. I want…I want a blowjob

more than once a year on my birthday. I want to bury my face in your cunt and taste

you. I want to know that you can’t live without me in every way.”

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He shook his head and let out a small chuckle that lacked all humor. “I would be

the happiest man in the world if you’d wake me up in the middle of the night by

climbing on top of me and begging me for sex. I want to know that there’s more to our

marriage than being roommates who have unsatisfying sex, usually every Tuesday and

Saturday. In the dark, under the covers, with you wearing that goddamn body armor of

a nightgown.” He turned toward the door. “Don’t wait up.”

Kerri sank down on the end of the bed, her hands shaking, her eyes burning from

tears she wouldn’t let fall. She jumped when the front door slammed. Malcolm had

never walked out on an argument before. Never left her alone like this.

Crossing her arms over her bare breasts, she rocked back and forth, wishing the

comfort was his arms, not her own.

She’d lose him if she didn’t do something.
Deep down, she wanted to do all those things he mentioned. She’d always yearned

for those things with him. But her marriage depended on one of them being strong and

keeping their head. The woman had to be the strong one, the one in control, because

men didn’t know how to control their urges.

For five years, she’d succeeded, but now…
She wished her mother were here to talk to. Her mother, who taught her what it

took to keep a husband, because her mother had done it all wrong. Kerri grew up

without a father because her mother had been weak.

Justin could grow up without a father because Kerri couldn’t find a middle ground

to settle on. She didn’t want Malcolm to think she was emotionless. But she couldn’t let

him think that his touch made her lose her mind either.

Kerri glanced at the clock. It was just after ten. Tamara would still be up. Her sister

was a night owl who’d been married to the same man for twenty years. Surely she had

some answers. She and Jacob seemed to have the perfect marriage.

Kerri rushed into the bathroom and pulled on her nightgown before rushing back

to the bed and picking up the phone from the nightstand.

Tamara had once been the type of woman her mother always warned her not to be.

She’d been impulsive and let her passion win. Tamara had been a teenage, unwed

mother whom her mother hadn’t spoken to for years before her death.

But Tamara had a good, solid marriage. She must have learned how to control

herself.

Kerri dialed her sister’s number. Tamara picked it up on the fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, Tam, it’s Kerri.”
“Hey, baby sis! How’s it going? You’re up kinda late, aren’t you? Thought you were

always in bed by nine.” Her sister laughed.

Kerri pressed her lips together. Was she really that predictable? “Tam, do you have

time to meet tomorrow for lunch? I…uhm…need to talk to someone

about…something.” She bit her tongue.

Anna Leigh Keaton

“What’s wrong, honey?” her sister asked, her voice losing the twinge of humor.
“I…nothing really…I just…”
“Hey. Are you okay? You sound a little out of it. You need me to come over?”
“No. No, I’m fine. I just need some advice.”
After a short pause, her sister said, “I have a lunch meeting tomorrow. You want to

meet for drinks at O’Brian’s after work?”

“Could we go somewhere a little quieter? This is, uh, private stuff I want to talk

about.” Her tummy fluttered with nervousness. She wasn’t even sure how to talk about

this kind of thing with anyone, let alone her much older sister she’d had very little

contact with while she was growing up. But she had no one else to turn to. She had no

close friends, no one she’d go to for marital advice.

“There’s a little coffee shop on the corner of Fourth and Parker. You know the one?”
“Yes.”
“It’s quiet in the early evening. See you there around five?”
Kerri let out a little sigh of relief. “That’ll be good. Thanks, Tam.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“It’s not a big deal,” she said, though in the past few weeks she’d begun to realize

just what a huge deal it was to her husband. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

They said their goodbyes and Kerri hung up the phone. She went back into the

bathroom, washed her face and brushed her teeth. She checked on Justin to make sure

he was sleeping soundly, and then she went to her bedroom, turned off the light and

climbed between the sheets.

Passion he wanted.
Her heart ached. If she didn’t give him the one thing he wanted, she’d lose him. In

giving him what he wanted, she’d lose herself.

She curled into a ball and closed her eyes against the tears.
A couple of hours later she heard the front door, then Malcolm trudging up the

stairs. She listened to him stripping off his clothes, and he was none too quiet or gentle

when he climbed into the bed. There was alcohol on his breath when he curled around

her and pulled her tight against his body.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the back of her neck. “I’m sorry, baby. I love

you.”

Lose Control

Chapter Three

Kerri was at the coffee shop by 4:45, ordered herself a very large, very strong latte

and found a quiet table in the corner to await her sister’s arrival. Just after five, Tamara

swept into the shop.

The woman always seemed to arrive on a cloud of laughter. Spotting Kerri on her

way to the counter, Tamara waved. Her long skirt floated around her legs, and her

peasant top hung off one shoulder. Tamara was always so pretty with her curly auburn

hair and her big brown eyes outlined in kohl. Vibrant, that was what she was. Always

so effervescent.

Kerri looked down at her tan pantsuit and off-white blouse and felt dull in

comparison. She always had.

“Hey, Sis!” Tamara said as she leaned over to kiss Kerri’s cheek and give her a one-

armed hug. When she took the seat next to her at the tiny table, a pucker marred her

forehead and she dropped her voice. “Dang, Ker, you look like you haven’t slept in a

week.”

“Just one night…maybe two,” she answered softly, then lifted her latte and sipped.

“How are you doing?”

Tamara sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m fine, but something’s really

buggin’ you. Spit it out.”

Kerri took another sip. She didn’t know how to start this conversation. She’d never

discussed anything so personal with anyone, especially her sister who was a decade

older than her. Kerri wondered how her much older sister could look five years

younger than Kerri did.

“Ker?” Tamara leaned close. “Is it Malcolm? Your business? What’s got you so

wound up?”

Her sister cared; Kerri didn’t doubt that. The day she turned eighteen, Tamara came

to their mother’s house and asked Kerri to go for a drive with her. Their mother had

forbid Tamara from having contact with Kerri because their mother didn’t approve of

Tam’s lifestyle. They’d never gotten real close, but they saw each other often. She and

Malcolm and Justin had family dinners with Tam, Jacob and their two grown sons.

Other than Malcolm’s brothers, Tamara was her only family.

“Kerri…?”
“Do you give Jacob blowjobs?”
Tamara’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh…yeah.”
“Often?”
She nodded.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Kerri’s face heated so much she was sure she could feel her pulse in her cheeks. “Do

you walk around naked in front of him?”

Tamara let out a little laugh. “As often as possible.”
She dropped to a whisper and asked, “Is there passion in your sex?”
“What?” Tamara leaned in close. “Is there a problem with Malcolm?”
Shaking her head, Kerri said, “I think the problem is mine. I need to know about

passion in…between…with sex.”

“Hon, you’ve been married five years and have a son. Are you telling me there’s no

passion? You don’t have orgasms?”

Kerri was sure her face was hot enough to fry an egg, but she so needed to have this

conversation with someone other than her husband. “I have them. Malcolm said… He

wants…” She swallowed hard and her stomach clenched, and she folded her arms

around herself.

Tamara laid her hand on Kerri’s shoulder. “Honey, talk to me. What’s going on?

Did he hurt you?”

Kerri shook her head almost violently. “No. Never. He’s just…unsatisfied with me.”
Tamara ran her hand down Kerri’s arm and folded her fingers around her clenched

hand. “Honey, you’re going to have to be a little more specific. I’m very confused.”

“Mom said—”
“Wait.” Her sister sat up straight and held her hand up.
Kerri bit her tongue.
“Nothing that starts out ‘Mom said’ is going to be good. Especially in regard to our

mother. Mom said a hell of a lot of things she shouldn’t have.”

Kerri picked up her coffee and sipped while Tamara did the same. Finally, her sister

said, “Okay, let’s have it. What did Mom say?”

Mom did say a lot of things, Kerri thought. Things that maybe now she was seeing

weren’t always true. Her mother had led her to believe that being loved by a man was

impossible, a fairy tale. Men didn’t know how to love because they were ruled by their

penises, not their hearts. But Malcolm loved her. She had no doubt about that. If he

didn’t love her, he’d have left the first time she hadn’t sexually satisfied him.

When Kerri didn’t answer, Tamara blew out a breath. “Did she give you the whole,

‘Men are only good as financial support. Give them what they need to keep them

happy, no matter how uncomfortable it is. If you don’t, they’ll leave’?”

Kerri nodded.
“God damn it. Did she also say to you that lust was like a bad drug that would rule

your life if you let it in?”

Again, she nodded.
“Have you been blocking your lust with Malcolm because you’re afraid of it?”

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Terrified! Kerri’s breaths shortened, and tears burned her eyes. Finally, someone

who understood! “Yes.”

“Fucking bitch!”
Her head snapped back at Tamara’s outburst, and she scanned the almost empty

coffee shop for anyone Tam might have disturbed, but only one man sat at a table

across the room, engrossed in a novel.

“You were always so put together, I was sure she hadn’t brainwashed you. Damn

it, Sis, I’m so sorry.” Tears gathered in Tamara’s eyes. “I wish I’d known. Oh God, baby

sister. You’re thirty and you…” She gripped Kerri’s hand again. “Lust and passion are

not bad, dirty things. You need them in a marriage. You need it; your husband needs it.

Without passion, what do you have?”

“Roommates who have unsatisfying sex, usually every Tuesday and Saturday. In

the dark, under the covers, with me wearing my body armor,” she paraphrased

Malcolm’s words.

“Oh hon…” Tam’s whole expression showed sorrow, gentleness.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I thought if I kept all the feelings under control,

everything would be fine. But it’s not fine. He wants…”

“You do have the feeling then, don’t you?”
Kerri nodded and looked away, unable to squelch the shame inside her. “I can’t

keep them under control. The things he wants, I can’t keep myself from having them. I

feel like I’m going to lose my mind.”

“You have to let them out. You need to let go and let that passion consume you. It’s

freeing. It’s healthy. You owe it to yourself.”

“Mom said—”
“Mom was a bitter old woman who couldn’t hold on to her husband, so she tried to

vilify all men. I fell for her BS for a few years after Dad left, but I was so miserable in

that home, listening to Mom badmouth Dad, badmouth men in general, that I got

knocked up so she’d throw me out.”

Kerri’s lips parted in surprise.
“Oh yeah, little sis. You have no idea how badly I wanted out of that house, and I

knew if I got pregnant by an evil male, she’d kick my ass out. But she didn’t. She kept

me trapped in that damn apartment until I turned eighteen, listening to her make

horrible comments about my son being the devil’s spawn.”

“And then I never saw you again until I turned eighteen.”
“My one and only regret, hon. Believe me. I missed you like crazy, but she wouldn’t

let me see you. She thought I’d turn you bad like me.”

“I know.” Kerri sighed. “She used you as the example of what I should never be.

But you have a happy marriage. I thought…” She had to blink back her tears. She was

so confused. “I thought you’d…changed.”

“I had no idea you didn’t have a happy marriage, Ker.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

“We do. It’s good. Or I always thought it was, until recently.” She squeezed her

sister’s hand. “I need help, and I don’t know where to start.”

Tamara laughed. “Baby sis, you have definitely come to the right person if you

want to know about being bad in the bedroom, or the kitchen, or the shower, or the—”

Kerri groaned and experienced a pinch of panic. It really was supposed to be like

the movies and books? She’d grown to believe… Oh God. She’d spent her adulthood

avoiding everything that involved sex. If she read a novel that had it, she skipped

paragraphs and paragraphs to avoid reading it, because it aroused her. She left the

room if it was on a movie she and Malcolm were watching. She refused to expose

herself to anything…titillating.

That never stopped her from thinking about it, fantasizing about it, but she had to

maintain her center and not let her physical urges rule her mind.

How was she supposed to undo decades of beliefs?
Her marriage depended on it.
Tamara frowned at Kerri’s pained expression. “Grab your coffee. We need to go for

a little walk.”

Kerri picked up her coffee and purse and followed her sister out the door. “Where

are we going?”

“We’re going to go get you some information on seducing your poor husband. By

the time you’re done with him, he won’t even know what happened.”

* * * * *

Malcolm tried to concentrate on the cop show he was watching, but he couldn’t

keep his eyes off the clock above the television. It was after nine, and Kerri wasn’t

home. She’d left the house that morning before he woke up, and he’d only heard from

her once, to say she was going to see her sister and she probably wouldn’t be home for

dinner.

He could call her cell, but after last night, he wasn’t sure what kind of reception

he’d receive. He’d walked out on an argument, the one thing he’d always promised her,

and himself, he’d never do.

Damn it, though, how much could he take? What was so damn bad about wanting

to undress his own wife? Hold her naked body against his?

For five years, he’d gone along with her weird nighttime rituals and never said a

word, taking her lead for what she needed. Maybe he really didn’t spark her fire, light

her flame, make her want to howl with passion.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes and breathed deep. He

was so confused! How could a woman grow wet, have an orgasm and not feel

something? When she said no, he never pushed. When she didn’t say no, she would

wrap her arms around him and spread her legs for him. There were times when he

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wondered why he bothered, and that was what had made him approach her with the

books about BDSM.

He’d had the brilliant idea that her lying there and spreading her legs was some

form of submission, and maybe if she understood the psychology behind it, she’d

accept more, do more, let him be more of the dominant male he needed to be. Because

climbing on top of a woman who just lay there was not dominance in his book, it was

selfish, almost rude.

Apparently, the psychology behind it hadn’t bothered her, but seeing it in practice

at The Devil’s Den had. After that little taste of the extreme, she’d come home, put on

the nightgown and spread her legs for him.

Why did she bother?
The garage door opened, and he jumped up, shut off the TV and headed for the

kitchen. She was just opening the door when he pulled the plate of dinner from the

oven he’d saved for her.

“Hey, babe,” he said, smiling at his beautiful wife. “Justin and I made pizza

tonight.”

Her smile was pained when she glanced at him, then the plate he held with an oven

mitt. The thing had dried out and looked sickly.

“I already ate,” she said, clutching a black boutique bag to her chest. “Is Justin in

bed?”

He nodded and set the plate on the counter. “He fell asleep about a half hour ago.”
“I’m going to…” She waved her hand toward the ceiling then practically ran from

the room.

Malcolm followed her up the stairs. She dashed into their bedroom, but when he

got to the door, all he saw was her standing just inside their small walk-in closet,

shoving that bag into a drawer. Startled when she turned and saw him, she gave a soft,

nervous laugh and took off her suit jacket and made a show of hanging it up. Then she

took her time taking off her low-heeled dress shoes and arranging them just right on her

shoe rack.

“Kerri? Is something wrong?”
She shook her head and moved past him into the hallway. “Just tired. Long day.”
“Yeah, you were out of here awful early.”
“I wanted to get some paperwork done before the first shipment arrived.” She

pushed open Justin’s bedroom door and went into the darkened room.

Standing in the doorway, Malcolm watched her sit on the bed next to their son,

brush the boy’s hair back off his forehead, then kiss his cheek. He was still kicking

himself for the comment he’d made to her last week about not spending time with

Justin. It had been a low blow he never should have voiced. She worked hard, and he

was proud of her accomplishments. And Justin was not lacking in love from either of

them.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Kerri came toward him and waited for him to move out of the way so she could go

back into the hallway. It was as if she couldn’t even stand to touch him. Not even a kiss

when she came in, which had always been customary.

She went back into their bedroom, and he followed.
“Kerri, about last night.”
She’d been on her way to the bathroom, but she stopped and spun toward him,

holding her hands up. “Please, Malcolm, not tonight.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She pressed her lips together, her brow puckering. “I just can’t talk

about…anything right now. I’m so tired.”

With a nod, he stepped up to her and simply pulled her in for a hug.
She softened against his chest and wound her arms around his sides. She sighed,

her warm breath against his neck.

He ran his hand over her soft hair and buried his nose against the top of her head,

breathing in that slightly sweet scent that always clung to her after a day at the flower

shop. Her body trembled slightly, and he pulled back so he could look into her face.

“You okay?”

“I had a little too much caffeine tonight is all. You know that makes me jittery.”
With a grin, he gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “Yes it does. Your sister’s a bad

influence on you.”

Kerri jerked slightly. “What?”
Her reaction was more than coffee jitters, which really confused him. “Coffee, babe.

The woman drinks it like water, and you always join her.” Biting his tongue against

asking yet again what the real problem was, he let her go. “Why don’t you get ready for

bed? I’ll go pour you a little brandy. That always helps.”

She let out a little sigh, as if relieved he’d let her go, and his heart crumbled a little.

“Thank you.”

It took only minutes to pour her a small glass of brandy and bring it back upstairs,

but she was already in bed, the covers pulled up to her armpits. She accepted the drink

with a small, fake smile, and sipped.

Malcolm stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed next to her. He wasn’t the

least bit tired tonight, but if he stayed up, he’d just sit and stew and wonder and worry.

He shut off the light on his nightstand and turned away from Kerri. He doubted she’d

want his hands on her in any way tonight.

He listened to her sip the alcohol, sigh, rearrange the covers several times. She was

restless, and he didn’t think it was all due to too much coffee.

“Malcolm,” she whispered softly. “You still awake?”
“Yes.” He rolled to his back and looked at her in the soft light filtering in from the

street. She still sat up against the headboard, the side of her face toward him nearly

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invisible in the shadows. “What’s wrong? Do you need something else to help you

sleep?”

She tipped the glass and finished off the brandy. “No. I have to tell you something.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

Chapter Four

Malcolm wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever she had to say. Was she leaving

him? Had he gone too far last night? He could live the rest of his life without sex, but he

wasn’t sure he could live without her. She was his everything. The woman who got him

through losing his mother and brother. The woman who supported him through

starting his own business. The woman he couldn’t imagine going a day without seeing,

even if she was mad at him.

Was he that big of a sap? This wasn’t all his fault. Sex was important, and he

needed it, and he needed it with a woman who needed him the same way.

He swallowed back the words wanting to tumble out of his mouth. He feared

they’d be mean and hurtful. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“I told Tamara about our…my…” She licked her lips but stared straight ahead,

across the room, never glancing his way. “The fight last night.”

“I figured. That’s what sisters do.”
“Do you tell your brothers about our problems?” She turned her head then and

looked down at him.

He shrugged. “I did when we were first married, but no, not now.” Truth was,

when he’d mentioned to Tommy about Kerri’s strangeness in the bedroom, his oldest

brother had laughed it off as new bride nerves. He’d told Malcolm she’d get past it in a

little while and then things would normalize. They never had, and he’d never brought

it up again.

“You haven’t liked having sex with me since we were first married, have you?”
The hurt in her tone cooled his ire. “Baby…” He rolled toward her and put his arm

over her middle. “It’s not that I don’t like sex with you. I love you, and I love your

body. I had just never been with a woman who…who said yes but never really seemed

to want to. You got more excited before we were married the few times you’d let me

touch you than you did after we said our vows.”

Kerri sucked in a deep breath and let it out. Softly, slowly, she said, “Tamara said I

have to tell you what goes on in my head.”

“That would be a very good place to start.” He’d always wondered what she

thought about when they had sex. When lust overtook him, she seemed so calm, in

control of even her breathing.

Long silence stretched, and he wondered if she would talk more. He rubbed his

fingers against her soft cotton nightgown and wished even now that she was naked.

Only a handful of times in their entire marriage had he seen her completely naked. She

had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of.

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“My mother brainwashed me.”
The words snagged his attention, and he sat up to look her in the face. “What?”
She swallowed hard and met his gaze through the darkness. “That’s what Tamara

said. Mom brainwashed me into believing lies about men.”

“What lies?”
She shook her head. “Not about men, about me, about my emotions and how to

deal with men.” Reaching out, she touched his cheek, ran her fingers along his jaw and

chin. “She told me the only way a woman survives a man is by controlling her lust.

Never let it take hold and make her stop thinking. A woman loses herself in her lust

and her man, and then he up and leaves and she’s got nothing because she gave him

everything.”

“Your mother sounds like she was very bitter about your dad leaving her.”
Kerri dropped her hand to her lap and nodded. “That’s what Tamara said. I never

really saw my dad because I was so young when he left. Turns out he was a really great

guy and Mom kept me from him. Tamara was lucky that she got to know him before

the breakup, and then after she was old enough, he helped her out a lot with the baby.”

“Your mom kept you from everyone important in your life.”
She’d told him once that she hadn’t known Tamara until she was an adult, and that

her mother hadn’t had anything to do with Tamara after her unplanned pregnancy, but

he’d had no idea her mother had isolated her.

“And told me stuff that wasn’t true.”
“Your dad didn’t want you.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Aww, baby.” He scooted over so his side was along hers and put his arm around

her. “You just found this out tonight?”

She nodded and rested her head against his chest. “I never really talked to Tamara

about anything important before. I learned a lot tonight. Too much. I can’t process it

all.”

“You and Tamara never talked before this?”
Her voice was a whisper when she said, “I never talk to anyone, and Tamara says

that’s another problem. I keep everything bottled up inside.” She sniffled. “She said I

should have told you… Should have asked her… Emotions aren’t bad…”

Kerri turned her face, half burying it against his chest and let out a shaky breath.

Her tears dampened his skin, and he wrapped her in his arms.

“Sweet baby. Shh. It’s okay.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. But you being upset kills me.”
“My mom made me believe I had to keep all emotion bottled inside. Never laugh

too loud, cry too hard. She said it wasn’t healthy.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

Kerri always was very even-tempered. He thought it was just her personality. Very

easygoing. Even when she was upset with him, she never lashed out, never yelled,

never threw a tantrum like other women.

“She said if I fell in love, to never let him know how much he means to me. Keep

my head. Be sane. No lust. No great declarations of not being able to live without him.

It was safe that way. Less heartache when he left.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Malcolm said defiantly, wanting nothing more than to get

his hands on a woman who would tell her daughter such nonsense.

She sobbed against his chest, and he held her all the tighter.
“I know,” she said on a soft wail. “She lied. All lies.”
Malcolm held his wife as the storm of heartache raged through her and she cried

until she fell asleep. His own heart felt shredded and all the missing puzzle pieces

finally fell into place. He’d pushed her over the edge by forcing her to face their sexual

dysfunction, but it was an edge from which she’d needed to leap.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered as he gently laid her against her pillow and kissed

her forehead. “God, baby, do I love you.”

Malcolm remembered the day he’d met Kerri. He’d stopped in her little flower shop

on his way to visit his mom in the hospital. His mom was dying, and everyone knew it,

but Malcolm, the baby of the family, Mom’s favorite, hadn’t been able to accept it.

Kerri was so elegant in her pale pink blouse and black slacks, a tiny package of the

most perfect curves. She wore no makeup, no jewelry, and her hair, the color of dark

chocolate, had shimmered in the subdued lighting in the store.

His heart had been heavy, aching, breaking from losing his mother, and then Kerri

smiled at him and handed him a single white rose, saying he looked as if he could use a

pick-me-up. He’d thought she was flirting with him, but it didn’t take long to realize

she hadn’t been. She’d seen his sadness and wanted to help. She did that kind of thing

often, with everyone she met. Yet his Kerri had so few friends. She kept everyone at a

distance. Kept him at a distance for months as he tried to court her.

He’d practically blackmailed her into their first date by coming by her shop every

day after he got off work. Until she said yes, he’d threatened be in her store from four-

thirty until she closed at seven. She’d threatened to call the police and have him

removed. He brought her coffee, ice cream, little treats. And he started to get to know

her a little.

She was private, quiet, reserved. She loved her flowers. She cared about her

customers. She told him repeatedly she didn’t date. Yet after his mother passed and he

hadn’t had time to see Kerri for a week, she showed up at his mother’s wake with a

huge arrangement of white roses and a simple note that said she was sorry for his loss.

The next time he came to her shop, she closed early and joined him for dinner.

She’d lost her mother the year before and knew what it was like. They bonded over loss.

Just a few months later, he lost a brother in a car accident, and she’d been the only thing

that kept him going. Without her, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to keep

Lose Control

functioning day after day because the grief was too much. She was always there with a

warm smile, her small hand on his shoulder that melted the pain in his heart.

From that first meeting in her shop, he’d known she was the one for him. There had

been a connection, a zing of awareness he’d never before experienced with a woman.

He felt her in his soul.

Malcolm glanced at the clock to see it was only ten-thirty. He carefully got out of

bed, picked up the portable phone from the nightstand and put on his bathrobe. He

stepped out onto the balcony and shut the door behind him before he punched in the

speed dial for his sister-in-law.

“So how’d it go?” was Tamara’s greeting.
“It’s Malcolm,” he said softly, settling into one of the loungers and covering his legs

with the robe. “I’d like to know a bit more about your mother.”

Tamara cleared her throat and sighed heavily before she asked, “What’d she tell

you?”

He squeezed his eyes closed. “Until tonight, I thought the woman was a saint. Kerri

never said a word against her. Lauded her as a single mother who struggled to pay the

rent, keep food on the table. She was always there, taught Kerri how to be a good

person.”

“And now?”
He stared up at the stars, at the quiet street. His jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth

around the fury of all that woman did to his sweet wife. “She sounds like a fucking

monster.”

“She was. I had no idea that Barb had brainwashed Kerri the way she had. Kerri’s

always been so sweet, so put together, I never contemplated she was so messed up in

the head.”

“Am I jumping way out of line, or is it that woman’s fault that Kerri has no close

friends?”

“Malcolm,” Tamara said, sounding exhausted, “I think just about everything wrong

with Kerri is that woman’s fault. I feel so guilty for not knowing, for not pressing Kerri,

but we were separated for almost a decade. By the time we were back in each other’s

lives, she was so private she barely ever talked about anything personal. I thought it

was just that we weren’t close, she wasn’t comfortable with sharing with me. I didn’t

know she didn’t have girlfriends.”

“God…” Malcolm swiped his hand over his face. “And here I was begging for

hotter sex.”

Tamara laughed. “Well, brother, I think you’ll be getting that soon. She just might

need some time to work up to it. I think today, for the first time, it really clicked in her

head that there’s more to life than what our dear mother led her to believe.”

“She’s lived our entire married life thinking I’m going to leave someday.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

“Barb was good at what she did. She thoroughly convinced Kerri that men don’t

stick around, and control is the key. Men bad. Sex bad. Pleasure bad.”

“Happiness is bad?” he asked.
“Mother didn’t know what happiness was. I’m convinced she was clinically

depressed my entire life. Dad left because he couldn’t take her constant anger. And then

once he left, she wouldn’t let him see us. When I got out from under her, Dad and I had

a great relationship until he died. I’m so sorry Kerri didn’t get to know him.”

“Why’d Kerri marry me then? If she thought I’d leave…”
Tamara let out another heavy sigh. “Dad helped out a little after he left, but in his

own way, he made Barb suffer. He made sure Kerri had food on the table, but he

refused to pay Barb’s bills or rent. She had to go to work. In her mind, a man was good

for one thing only, and that was financial support. She’d married Dad right out of high

school and didn’t work a day they were together. So he supported her, and that’s all he

did, apparently, according to Barb.”

“Kerri already had the business when I met her. She’s always been financially

sound on her own. Hell, she was the one who helped me build my business.”

“She fell in love,” Tamara said simply.
“But…”
“Malcolm, think about it. You were the first man she ever dated—she told me that

tonight. She thought she’d go through her life without a man, because what was the

point? Men don’t know how to love; they don’t stick around. But Kerri fell in love with

you, and she’s spent the last five years trying to protect herself for the day you

eventually leave.”

“I’m not leaving,” he all but growled.
“I think she’s starting to get that. Or rather, the fear of you leaving because of the

walls she’s built around herself got her thinking. I told you, Barb was real good at

instilling fear. She was very convincing. Kerri’s also getting that there’s more to a

marriage than…how’d she put it? Roommates sharing unsatisfying sex a couple times a

week?”

“Oh God,” he groaned. “She told you that?”
“I figured she didn’t make that up on her own.”
“I was angry.”
“Well, I have to admit if I’d lived the bedroom life you have the last five years, I’d

get pretty testy too. Why’d it take you so long?”

“At first I thought she’d come around once she was comfortable with being a wife.

Comfortable with me. Our wedding night wasn’t exactly pulled from a romance novel.

Then as time went on, I kind of got complacent. Hell, after almost a year of no sex at all

when she was pregnant—”

“Holy shit, seriously?”
“Yeah. After that I was just happy to get anything.”

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“And now that’s not enough?”
A dry chuckle slipped out. “I couldn’t sleep one night and watched Basic Instinct on

TV. I had a girlfriend when that movie came out that just…uh…”

“’Nuff said!” Tamara laughed. “Well, brother, be gentle with her, give her some

time, but I think she’ll be coming around. We talked about a lot of things tonight. I’m

sure we’ll be talking again.”

“Thanks, Sis.”
“Take care of her. She’s way more fragile than she lets on.”
“Yeah, I’m getting that.” He couldn’t remember her ever crying as hard about

anything as she had tonight. Perhaps it was a start to letting her emotions out. He just

hoped he could get some joy from her, not all sorrow. “Tell Jake I said hi. I’ll talk to you

soon.”

“I will, and you do that. G’night.”
“’Night.”
Malcolm went back inside and quietly shut the slider before hanging up the phone

and climbing into bed next to Kerri. She rolled toward him, throwing her leg over his

and her arm over his middle while pressing her face into his shoulder. He smiled and

rearranged himself so she’d be more comfortable before he let out a deep breath and

tried to relax. She usually didn’t come to him in her sleep. Perhaps the hard shell she

kept around herself was cracking. Maybe someday they’d have the marriage he’d

always thought they could have.

* * * * *

Kerri couldn’t bring herself to look Malcolm in the face the next morning. When she

awoke, he was out of bed, and the clock said it was after eight, an hour and a half later

than she normally slept. Her eyes felt as if someone had poured sand in them while she

slept, and her mouth was dry as a bone. She’d cried herself into dehydration.

She hoped by the time she finished showering, blow drying and dressing, that

Malcolm would have left for work, but no such luck. He was sitting at the breakfast

alcove in the kitchen when she walked in to get her morning coffee.

“Hey, baby.” He stood up and came to her, kissed her forehead, patted her back

lightly. She appreciated the comforting touches, but her insides were twisted into a tight

ball, and she didn’t know how to deal with it. Never had she let herself cry that way. It

was all right to shed tears when you slammed your finger in the door or stubbed your

toe, or especially when she broke her wrist in the fifth grade falling off the jungle gym.

It was okay to cry a little when your baby boy was sick with the flu and all you could do

was hold him and pray the children’s medication brought down his fever. It was not

okay to cry like a baby because your heart was broken.

That was weakness.

Anna Leigh Keaton

She kept her attention on the coffee pot as she poured herself a mug. “Morning.

Justin off to school okay?”

“Yep. Shelly came and picked him up at seven-thirty as usual.”
Shelly walked Justin to his preschool on her way to the high school every morning.

She’d been a godsend to them and earned every penny they paid her.

Kerri nodded and then sipped her coffee. She turned to head for the garage,

needing to escape his scrutiny. “I think—”

“I called your sister last night after you fell asleep.”
Oh God. She turned and looked up into her husband’s eyes.
“She filled in some things you left out.” He reached out and took her hand, pulling

her closer to him where he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Baby.” He cupped her

cheek in his hand. “Sweet baby, you could have told me all this before now. I hate that

you’ve been suffering alone.”

She bit her lip and set the mug of coffee on the counter near his hip. “I wasn’t

suffering.” She squinched her eyes closed and shook her head. “Malcolm…” She took a

breath and opened her eyes to look at him. “I’m still processing, okay? I need more time

before I can have another conversation about…about all of it.”

He nodded. “I know. And I understand. And you need to know that I’m not leaving

you. Ever. I also now realize why things are the way they are. I will not push you again.

I will respect your boundaries. But you have to promise me that if there’s anything

you’re unsure of, you have to talk to me. Never in a million years would I have

thought…” He shook his head.

“I know. My mother…” The tears returned in a rush and burned her eyes. “It hurts

a lot.”

Malcolm folded her into his arms, surrounding her with his love. A love that until

yesterday she kept trying to convince herself wasn’t possible, didn’t really exist,

because her mother, the woman who raised her, had told her love from a man was a

myth.

She’d been such a fool for so long part of her didn’t know how Malcolm could be so

understanding. She felt so stupid.

Kerri did her best to keep the tears in, but a couple escaped. She buried her face

against her husband’s shoulder and took solace in his unselfish comfort. “I’m going to

try to be a better wife,” she said, her words muffled against his shirt.

“Baby, you are a wonderful wife. I love you with all my heart and soul. You have

got to believe that.”

She nodded. “In the bedroom.”
After a long silence, he said, “Only when you are ready. No pressure. Never again.”

He kissed her forehead. “You okay now?”

She nodded again, then slowly pulled back to look up at him. “Will you do me a

favor?”

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He brushed his thumb over her damp cheek. “Anything, baby.”
“Kiss me like you did the other night. Show me about passion.”
He smiled at her, and his eyes, so filled with worry, changed into the playful glitter

she’d fallen in love with. Carefully, as if afraid she’d bolt, he leaned down and touched

his lips to hers. He teased her with soft flutters of lips and tongue until she opened her

mouth. Pulling her tighter against his body, he tilted his head and sank his tongue into

her mouth.

Butterflies took flight in her belly, but this time she didn’t pull back, didn’t try to

calm the kiss. She wound her arms around his neck and touched her tongue to his, ran

it against his teeth, tasting minty toothpaste and black coffee. A soft moan pulled from

her when he leaned into her and cupped her bottom, pulling her tight against him. As

the kiss continued, her limbs seemed to melt a little. When he tore his mouth from hers

and panted against her neck, she shivered at the intense heat coursing through her.

Then she realized she too could barely breathe.

“Babe… If I keep going I’m…”
She sucked in a quavering breath. The hard press of his erection against her belly

was all she needed to know. This one kiss had turned him on, and it had done the same

to her. The guilt was there, buried deep but trying to rear its head, but she’d get past

that. She had to. But not now, not this morning. She couldn’t yet. She wasn’t ready.

“I need to get to the shop,” she said, pulling back. “I don’t mean to leave you in this

state, but…”

A sweetly pained smile curved his mouth. “I told you, no pressure. That was one

damn hot kiss though.” He kissed her again, quick and hard, just a press of lips on lips.

“I look forward to more of those.”

She smiled even as her face heated. More embarrassment than shame this time,

because after everything her sister had talked to her about, she couldn’t believe

Malcolm had stuck around so long. In fact, if anything, after talking to her sister she

realized just how deep his love for her must be.

“I love you, Malcolm.” The words were from her heart, and she knew he felt them.
“I love you, Kerri.” He released her. “Get going. I’ll see you tonight.”
Kerri picked up her coffee and turned away, but all day she got hit by little

electrical pulses in her core that would make her tingle and remember that kiss.

Remember how easy it was to let herself feel for the first time in her life.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Chapter Five

“I’m going up to get ready for bed.” Kerri fidgeted with the cuff of her blouse

sleeve and stared at it instead of looking at Malcolm when she spoke. She’d been a little

flighty all night. “You want to join me in about…maybe twenty minutes?”

Malcolm didn’t answer, just stared at her from his position on the couch. She stood

on the opposite side of the coffee table, completely engrossed, it would seem, in some

unseen problem with her shirt button. Friday night had rolled around once again, and

they’d both come home around the dinner hour, both finding it a little amusing they’d

each brought dinner. Justin had enjoyed the Italian-Chinese cuisine.

But all through supper, Kerri hadn’t made eye contact with him even once.

Something was up, and with it his curiosity. Several days had gone by since the night

her ideas of an ideal mother had come crashing down. Every morning since, they

shared a scorching kiss before they parted for work. Every day, he sported a semi hard-

on all day because of that kiss. Every night she put on her cotton armor and kept to her

side of the bed.

Finally, she glanced up and for a fleeting second made eye contact before she

focused on straightening a few catalogues he’d brought home that evening and

dropped on the coffee table. “Are you ready for bed? I know it’s not that late, but…”

“Kerri?”
She stilled, and it was obvious how much effort it took for her to look at him.
“I will come up in twenty minutes, if that will give you some time to calm down,

chill out and remember that I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I never thought you would,” she rushed to say. “That’s not it. I’m just…I want…”

She straightened up. “I’m not sure… I can’t…”

Malcolm stood up and rounded the low table to pull her into his arms. “Shh, baby.”

He kissed the top of her head then moved to her cheek, then the corner of her mouth.

She trembled against him, and he started to pull back, but she wrapped her arms

around his waist and held on. So he touched his mouth to hers. With no coaxing

needed, she opened to him, and he sank his tongue into her mouth. Her arms tightened

around him, and she let out the softest moan. He deepened the kiss, let his hunger show

just a little and pulled her hard against him so she could feel, as he had every morning,

just what her softening did to him.

God help him, if she needed to be kissed like this all night long and nothing else,

he’d do it, but damn, it was getting painful. Cold showers and his own hand just didn’t

work like they had when he was a randy adolescent.

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Panting, Kerri broke the kiss. “That helped a little,” she whispered, but she still

wouldn’t meet his eyes.

He smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Did it?”
She nodded. “I’m going to try tonight, Malcolm. I’m really going to try. But…”
“But what?” He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “Come on. Tell me what’s

in your head. I need to know.”

“It feels good when you kiss me. It always has. But I’ve always forced those feelings

away because I wasn’t supposed to have them.”

He frowned, but she pressed her fingers over his lips before he could say anything.

He hated that he’d never known this, known what kind of torture she put herself

through.

“I’ve done it so long, it’s difficult to allow myself to feel these things. Sometimes I

feel a little sick when I do.”

“Sick?” Her fingers muffled the word.
“Like I’m going to throw up.”
“Oh God, baby…”
“It’s gotten better these last couple of days. Your kisses…” A small smile curved her

lips, and she looked down again, as if ashamed. “It’s strange, these feelings inside me.

There’s a need, and that’s always been there since the first time you kissed me, but I’ve

always pushed that back, because along with it there’s guilt that I’m doing something

wrong. If I keep the need tucked away, the guilt doesn’t come out.”

“Nothing between us is wrong, Kerri. You should never feel guilt because you

enjoy being touched or kissed.”

She nodded and slowly raised her eyes. “I got that now. Logically. But there’s this

weird…fear?” She didn’t seem to like that word and shook her head. “Terror. It’s like a

vise tightening around my middle. Like a panic attack waiting to happen, I guess,

though I’ve never really had one of those I don’t think.”

“What are you afraid of?”
She shrugged. “That’s just it. After this week, after talking to my sister, and you,

and…” She looked away again. “And some books I bought at this store she took me

to…” Huffing out a breath, she forced herself to look at him. “I know what we do is not

wrong. Even the things going on at that club—”

“I was so wrong to take you there. I’m so sorry.”
“No. That’s just the thing. What made me want to run from there was that I was

getting aroused watching all that stuff go on. And getting very upset because I couldn’t

control the arousal. I wondered what it would be like to be that pretty woman on the

stage, staked out for everyone to see.”

Malcolm’s lips parted in surprise.

Anna Leigh Keaton

She nodded. “You said something that night about me not even watching sex on

TV. It’s because I couldn’t. I liked watching it. Liking it was wrong because it made me

feel all tingly inside. And when I would get that way, and then you’d touch me, I

couldn’t maintain the emotional distance I was convinced I needed.”

“I think I’m starting to feel sick.” Wrapping his arms tighter around her, he buried

his face in her hair. “How did you ever even have sex with me then? How…” He let out

a breath, his heart hurting for his sweet little wife who’d put herself through so much.

“God, it’s like I raped you every time—”

“No!” She shoved him back, and this time she pinned him with a glare. “No you

did not. You’ve always been the perfect gentleman. You never pressured me when I

said no. I have always enjoyed your touch.” Her expression softened. “When I said no,

it was usually because I wanted it too much and feared I’d lose that control I needed

over myself.”

He frowned. “From the day you found out you were pregnant until—”
She let out a small, harsh laugh. “Oh my God, Mal. You have no idea. With the

hormones, and the way you looked at me? I was having orgasms in my sleep

sometimes, I was so out of control. If you touched me…” Tears sparkled in her eyes, but

she furiously blinked them back. “I couldn’t stand you touching me because I craved

your touch so much. I was losing control. Losing myself.”

All he could do was shake his head. She’d been the most gorgeous pregnant

woman, and so cold toward him. He’d worried he was losing her, but she wouldn’t talk

to him about anything. She’d sworn there was nothing wrong, just that she was

pregnant and didn’t want him to touch her right then.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“This isn’t your fault, babe.” If her mother weren’t dead…
“I shouldn’t have listened to her,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.
“She was your mother. You’re supposed to listen to your mother. Believe what she

says.”

Kerri sighed and nodded. “Right.” She gently pulled out of his arms and waved her

hand toward the stairs. “So I’m going to go upstairs and put on something my sister

talked me into buying, and then you can come up if you want, and we can…you

know…”

He smiled at her effort. “I will be up in twenty minutes as you asked, baby. And we

can, you know, only if you’re ready and not going to get sick.”

She nodded. “You’re the best husband in the world.” Then she headed up the stairs.
Malcolm groaned and dropped back onto the sofa. If he’d been the best husband in

the world, he’d have picked up on the fact that there was something seriously wrong

with his wife less than five years into their marriage!

* * * * *

Lose Control

Kerri pulled the black bag from the drawer in the closet and carried it into the

bathroom. Inside were the purchases she’d made at Tamara’s urging. Two different

lingerie ensembles, a couple dirty magazines, one porn movie made especially for

couples, a book of graphically erotic short stories and a shiny turquoise vibrator.

She’d glanced at the pictures in the magazines in the store, but since then she hadn’t

opened them. The erotic stories she hadn’t had the nerve to read, yet. And the vibrator

intimidated the hell out of her. Just looking at it still in its packaging—batteries not

included but in the bottom of the bag because Tamara wouldn’t let her leave the store

without them—kind of made her skin tingle.

Kerri wasn’t naïve about her body. She had even, in her younger years before she

met Malcolm, given herself orgasms with her hands. She’d always felt dirty and guilty

afterward, but she’d also known if she didn’t slake the urges somehow, she would lose

control and give herself up to a man. That would not have been acceptable.

Until she’d walked into that little back room in Linens and Lace—a place she

thought only sold lingerie and expensive bedding—with Tamara, she’d never been up

close to a sexual aid of any kind. Sure, she’d seen them online, joked about in movies,

but never a real one. When Tam pulled this pretty one off a hanger and said it was the

kind she used, real powerful but with adjustable speeds, Kerri had nearly died of

embarrassment thinking about her sister doing that.

“Everyone does it, hon,” Tamara had said, obviously picking up on her unease.

“You’re just starting a little late. This is a good beginner’s model.”

Kerri swallowed hard and slipped the toy in its package back into the bag. She

wasn’t ready for that. She definitely wasn’t ready to let her husband know she had

purchased it. There was no doubt he’d approve. But she had to get past the first mental

hurdle before she brought the toy out.

She didn’t have a problem with getting turned on and in the mood. Her problem

was allowing herself to experience the sensation that accompanied the arousal. For five

years, she’d fought the need, the urges. The pleasure. If she lay still and didn’t move,

there was less rubbing and contact of bodies, less stimulation to her nerve endings. If

she closed her eyes and didn’t look into the burning desire in her husband’s, she could

pretend she was somewhere else for a while. A warm bath, reading a book—

pleasurable but not mind-altering. If she prevented him from kissing her too deeply,

she could keep her own desire under control.

He was good though, and she loved the feel of his penis inside her. She could not

control her physical reactions to him, and she always grew damp. When he filled her,

she could keep part of herself disconnected from the action, but inevitably, she would

have an orgasm, and it felt so good and she always, always craved more.

Tonight, she would not try to distance her mind from what his body did to hers.
She was scared. It was uncharted territory for her, and she wasn’t sure what would

happen. Would she be like those women in the movies? In the books? Completely lost

in sensation and lust? Would she lose part of her soul to Malcolm tonight?

Anna Leigh Keaton

She bit her lip and fought down the panic. It was okay to lose herself in her

husband. It was the right thing to do. He loved her. Would never leave her. He needed

this from her.

Tamara said she needed it too.
Their mother had been wrong. Husbands and wives needed the spiritual

connection offered by the intimacy of the marriage bed. That was what Tamara told her.

That was what the books told her. That was the one thing she’d refused to believe

because one woman—a woman she’d trusted with every bit of herself—had told her it

was wrong.

How could she, a businesswoman, have been so very blind to the truth? She felt like

such a fool. Her heart broke when she thought of what she’d put Malcolm through all

these years.

Tonight, she’d show him how much she loved him.
Kerri undressed from her work clothes, washed herself with lilac-scented soap—

Malcolm’s favorite flower—and then donned one of the two lingerie sets she’d

purchased. She brushed her hair until it was soft waves of shiny mahogany over her

shoulders, and she dabbed just a touch of raspberry-flavored gloss to her lips.

Tears came to her eyes as she stared at her reflection. He loved her. He’d protect

her. Protect her heart. Deep down, she’d always known this, she supposed. But it was

so hard to change the ideas of a lifetime.

Malcolm was a gentle man, and he wouldn’t let her be hurt. Not by him, and not by

herself. If she had fears, he’d calm them. Now that he understood, or was trying to

understand her, everything would be fine.

A blanket of peace settled over her, and she let out a soft breath of realization. All

the years she’d been closing herself off from him physically, she’d only been protecting

herself from heartache when she should have known she could trust him to protect her

heart, her soul, as he would protect her physically if there were a threat to her. There

was no finer man than her Malcolm.

Kerri smiled and swiped a finger beneath her watering eyes. How had she never

realized how much she already did trust him? She never doubted he’d be there

whenever she needed him, because he always had been. How had she let her mother’s

words cloud her judgment so long that she believed she needed protection from him?

A soft knock on the bathroom door. “Ker? Do you want me to go back downstairs

for a little longer?”

“No. I’m coming out.” She pressed her lips together briefly and touched her hair. I

can do this. After stuffing the black plastic bag under the sink, she opened the door to

the bedroom.

Malcolm had shut off the overhead light, leaving just the nightstand lamp to cast a

soft glow over the room. He sat on the foot of the bed, still fully clothed in his jeans and

t-shirt. Only his shoes and socks were missing.

Lose Control

“Holy shit,” he said on a soft breath as he came to his feet and moved toward her.
Kerri stood brave, knowing that he could see everything through the sheer black

nightie. Very few times in the years they’d been together had she allowed him to see her

naked. Their wedding night when she discovered she couldn’t control her lust if their

bare flesh touched from head to toe. A few times when he walked in while she was

changing. A couple of times in the bathroom if they were tight on time and she was in

the shower while he shaved. All brief glimpses except the first one.

His eyes, as they had five years ago on their wedding night, burned with his own

lust. Her body pleased him, of that she had no doubt. She never had, and because of

that, she’d kept herself covered because his lust sparked her own.

She bit her lip and stood still as he walked behind her. She’d never worn a G-string

before, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. The top to the nightie

was loose, sheer, and fell to the top of her thighs, held up by two thin spaghetti straps.

Her lacy front G-string barely hid a thing.

Her nipples puckered when Malcolm’s warmth touched her back. He brushed her

hair to the side and leaned down to kiss that oh-so sensitive spot on her neck.

“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
She spun around to face him. “I thought you wanted—”
“Shh.” He put his finger over her lips and smiled at her. “Baby, that outfit… Damn,

it’s hot on you.”

She relaxed just a bit. “You like it?”
He nodded and trailed that one finger from her lips, over her chin, down the side of

her neck to the top edge of lace that fell across the swell of her breasts. “This black lace

against your pale skin. I’ve always loved you in black. Makes you look like a porcelain

doll.”

She grinned.
“What?”
“I like you in black too. That black silk shirt you wore at The Devil’s Den. It made

you look—” She bit her tongue.

“Made me look what?” He moved his finger back and forth over the swells of her

breasts, tracing the edge of the material. When she didn’t answer, he looked up from

her chest and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Dangerous,” she whispered. “Sexy.”
“Go on. Tell me more.”
“It makes your eyes dark. I like the way other woman look at you when you’re

dressed like that. When you look like…like…” Her cheeks heated and she couldn’t

maintain eye contact. She never talked about things like this. They were her private

thoughts, her private desires.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Malcolm grabbed her chin and turned her face back to his. He was grinning like a

little kid when he said, “Like what, Ker? Tell me. You’ve never, ever mentioned my

looks to me before.”

“I have too. I tell you when you look good in something.”
“Mmm. Yeah, when I put on Dockers and a tie to go to some holiday function at

one of our families’ houses or an important meeting. You’ve never told me I looked

dangerous and sexy. So tell me more. Stroke my ego a little.” He winked. “I think I

deserve it.”

She made a face at him and pulled away from his grip on her chin. “You kind of

look like Hugh Jackman when you wear all black.”

“You’ve got a thing for Wolverine?” Malcolm asked.
She was sure her face was hot enough to burst into flames. “Van Helsing. When he

was younger, and when your hair grows out because you don’t take the time to get it

cut.”

Malcolm laughed. A deep, sweet, belly laugh she hadn’t heard from him in a long

time, and he pulled her into his arms. “Baby, I look nothing like Hugh Jackman, but I

swear, if that’s what gets your motor going I’ll never cut my hair again.”

She smacked his chest, but she couldn’t stop the small bubble of laughter that

worked its way out of her. How long had it been since she’d seen her husband really

laugh? Had she been the reason he didn’t do it often anymore?

He nuzzled her neck with his nose and lips. She shivered and pushed away from

him.

“What?”
“Uh…” She hadn’t meant to do that. She’d lost track of the reason they were here

tonight, and his kisses made her feel good, which meant it was time to stop them. She

swallowed hard and moved back into his arms. “Habit. Sorry.”

“Really? It’s habit for you to pull away from me?”
“When it feels too good. Laughing with you, and your mouth on my neck, feels too

good.”

He laid his palm against her cheek. “Sweet baby. It should never feel too good.

There is no such thing.” He shook his head. “You know, you were the first virgin—the

only virgin—I’ve ever been with, and I thought that night had been difficult. I’m way

more worried about you tonight than I was then.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” she said as matter-of-factly as she could, “and I

figure if you will just do whatever it is you want to do, however you want to do it, it

would probably be best. Let’s just get it over with so there’s not this tension and then

we can work from there.”

He scowled. “Um, no. That is not how this is going to go down.”
“But you said you wanted—”
“We’re going to go ahead and forget everything I ever said I wanted.”

Lose Control

“But—”
“Shh.” He put his finger over her lips again. “Listen. This is what’s going to happen

tonight.” He moved his finger and kissed her lightly, just a brush of his lips against

hers. Then he gently turned her so her back pressed against his chest and wrapped his

arms around her waist, holding her loosely. “I am going to kiss you, and touch you, and

taste you, and your only job is going to be to open your mind to it and not throw up on

me.”

A laugh burst out of her, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle it, but

she realized he was trying to make her laugh, and she loved him all the more for it.

“I’ve never actually thrown up,” she reassured him. “My stomach just turns a little sour

when the guilt finds me.”

“That’s a good thing for me to know. That you don’t throw up. It’s not good that

you feel guilty when I touch you. That has to go. We’re going to get you past it. So…”

He slowly swayed her from side to side and pressed his cheek against hers, his chin

resting on her shoulder. She laid her hands over his forearms and closed her eyes,

letting the warmth of his body seep into her. “If you get uncomfortable, all you have to

do is pull away. Or say stop, or no, or any little sign you’re not enjoying something, I

stop, got it? There’s no pressure here.”

Turning her head to look at his profile, she said, “Maybe I should have a safe

word.” She’d thought about that too, over the last couple of days.

“If it would make you more comfortable, sure. Do you have one in mind?”
“Uh huh. Banana.”
He chuckled. “Banana, huh?”
“You know I hate them, and there’s no reason to talk about them in the bedroom.

The books said to choose a word that wouldn’t come up in conversation during sex,

and…”

His soft chuckles stopped her. She wasn’t usually so talkative when she was

nervous and wasn’t sure what had come over her tonight. Her cheeks were hot, but it

was getting a little easier to talk about this stuff with Malcolm.

“Banana it is. Or stop. Or no. I’ll be paying very close attention.”
She nodded.
He kissed her neck again, and she let out a slow breath as the tingles raced down

her spine to her center.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Chapter Six

Malcolm had never been this nervous about pleasuring a woman. Not his first time

when he was fifteen, and not the first time he dominated a woman at The Devil’s Den.

He hadn’t been joking when he said he’d worried less about taking Kerri’s virginity

than he did right now. Tonight she was open, wanting to change the way she felt about

sex with him. If he fucked up and did something wrong, she might never want him

again. Ever. And that thought was not acceptable. He needed his wife. God, did he need

her.

Kissing her neck, something he knew she enjoyed because it was the one thing he

could do and she’d melt against him, he licked, nibbled and breathed in the sexy scent

of the perfume she wore only for him. Careful to keep his arms loose around her, he

gently pressed against her back, letting her feel the pressure of his dick.

The slinky, sexy, see-through outfit she wore was beyond gorgeous, and maybe

because she never allowed him to see her naked, it drove him wild. To see her body, her

perky breasts and dark areolas, and the backside. Holy shit, if his wife had ever worn a

G-string before tonight, he was totally unaware of it. This get-up got him up, for sure.

Now he had to control every one of his basic urges to throw her down on the bed and

fuck her brains out in order to make sure she felt no fear, no guilt, no shame, no fear—it

killed him that she’d been living with it for so long—so that they could have the

marriage they both needed.

Kerri shivered, gasped and dropped her head back against his shoulder when he

nipped at the tendon in her neck.

“Everything okay?” he whispered in her ear before he licked the rim and sucked

her lobe into his mouth.

“Uh huh.”
Her breathing was still steady, he noticed when his was not. “Are you fighting it?”

He moved to the other side of her neck, nudged her hair back over her shoulder with

his chin, and licked her shoulder.

“I…I’m trying not to.”
“But you are, aren’t you?” he asked softly, flattening one hand over her belly.
“I don’t want to.”
He let his other hand trail over her hip, down to her bare thigh, then back up under

the silky material so he could finger the slinky strap of her panties. “Tell me what you

feel, baby. Tell me everything that’s inside you. I need to know.”

“Your hands. Your mouth.” She sucked in a deep breath when he slid his thumb

under the elastic and stroked forward to the very edge of her pubic hair.

Lose Control

“What do you feel inside?” He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in,

trying to slow his own rapid heartbeat.

“Scared. Unsure. Insecure. I want to run.” He ran his fingers along the edge of her

mound. She moaned and gave the tiniest of whimpers. “I want more.”

“I’m your husband, Kerri. You never, ever have a reason to be scared, unsure or

insecure with me. I never want you to run from me. I love you so deeply I didn’t know

this kind of love was even possible until I met you.”

She shuddered, and he wasn’t sure if it was his words or the fact he dipped his

fingers into her panties and petted her pussy.

“I’m sorry.” Her words came out on a soft sob.
“Don’t be sorry, my love. I’m the one who should have been much more attentive

to your needs, to what was going on. All I want now is to help you.”

The hand around her middle he slid upward, slowly, until he cupped one breast.

Her nipple was hard beneath the barely there material, and he palmed it, lightly

abraded it as he slipped the middle finger of his other hand into her damp, silky heat.

She whimpered again and dipped slightly, as if her knees were giving out.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He held her tighter against his body, wishing to God

he’d removed his own clothes before they got started. But he couldn’t break the contact

with her now, not when he was getting more of a reaction out of her than he had in

years. He’d never heard those sweet little whimpers before. God, how he wanted to

hear more, to have them turn into moans, into screams of pleasure.

Kerri raised an arm and slid her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck while she

gripped his forearm with the other. “Kiss me more,” she whispered, tipping her head to

the side and exposing her long, sensual neck to him. He obliged with a few soft, damp

kisses, licks, and then some nips to that sensitive tendon that seemed to drive her to

distraction.

Her moan was louder this time, and a silky gush of moisture coated his fingers as

he lightly nudged his finger into her pussy.

“Oh babe. That’s it.”
Her breaths increased in speed, and she pressed back against him, sending him into

the pleasure-pain of tight jeans and hard cock. He let out a little moan of his own and

flicked his thumb over her nipple as he cupped her breast.

Her breath caught, and she pressed her chest forward. “I can’t…”
He stopped all movement, rested his face against her shoulder but didn’t remove

his hands from her sweet parts. “What, babe? Can’t what?”

She dipped again. “I can’t stand up anymore.”
A rush of relief flowed through him, and he smiled against the tasty flesh of her

throat. “That’s a good sign. A very good sign.” He was loath to let go of her, afraid

adjusting would mean starting over, but he wanted her comfortable. So he slowly

withdrew his finger from between her legs.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Kerri shivered and her breath whooshed out. Then he lifted her into his arms,

gently, so as not to startle her, and carried her the three steps to their bed. As he set her

down in the middle, she looked up at him. Her cheeks were bright red, and he knew

her embarrassment level was high, but he shook his head at her and lowered his mouth

to hers.

The kiss was slow, tender, a little teasing. He let his lips play over hers for several

long moments before he urged her to open her mouth and let him in.

On a soft sigh, her lips parted, and she welcomed his tongue inside her mouth. As

her body relaxed into the soft comforter and the kiss deepened, he moved over her,

straddling her hips.

She jerked her mouth from his and gripped handfuls of his shirt in her fists.
“Talk to me,” he said gently, even though his heart pounded and his dick pulsed

with need. He told himself to settle down, but damn if his body was listening tonight.

“Feels too good.” Her breasts rose and fell with her deep, fast breaths.
“It’s supposed to feel good. It should overwhelm you, make you demand what you

need. Tell me what you need, Kerri.”

She stared into his eyes as if he were her only lifeline, and he waited, hoping she felt

all his love and knew that he only wanted everything for her.

“Make her voice stop,” Kerri whispered.
“Oh God, babe.” His heart clenched with pain for his beautiful wife. That bitch of a

mother of hers should have been hanged for what she did to her precious daughter.

“Remember, I’m your husband,” he said, cupping her face and running his thumb

over her cheek. “I’m your husband and there is no fear here. Nothing we do together is

wrong. Nothing you desire is wrong. I’m never leaving you. I will love you forever. I

need you. It’s okay for you to need me. Let me love you, Kerri. Let me make love to you

and show you how good it can be.”

She nodded.
He smiled.
“I want to…I want it.”
“What, babe?”
She pressed her lips together, her breaths speeding a little. “I want…”
The suspense was going to kill him. This night might very well do him in.

“Whatever you want, Ker. Anything at all. Everything.”

Her cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink, heating against his palm. “I want

oral sex,” she said, her voice almost inaudible.

“That I can do.” He grinned at her. “Don’t be embarrassed. I want to know what

you want. And I will do anything you want.”

The tension left her eyes, and a tiny smile curved her lips. “I want your mouth on

me. I want to know if it’s as good as Tamara says.”

Lose Control

He chuckled and dipped his head to kiss her lips. “It is. Probably better.” He moved

his mouth to her cheek, her neck, then to the swells of her breasts just above her nightie,

where he licked her skin, grazed his teeth.

She arched up a little, put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down.
“That’s it,” he complimented as he scooted his hips down her body and licked

across one puckered nipple. “You tell me what you want any way you want to say it.”

A moan, and she gripped his shoulders. He licked the other breast through the

material, but he could taste her, and that nothing material wouldn’t keep her from

feeling his lips, his damp tongue. The soft material might even heighten the sensation

when he sucked one of those tight little nipples between his lips and drew on it.

“Oh!” She bucked beneath him, and her hands fisted in his shirt. “I can feel that

down there too.”

He moved to the other breast. “Then I guess I’m doing it right.” He sucked the

other nipple into his mouth with a few deep tugs, and her hips wiggled beneath his.

“Malcolm…”
“Yeah, babe?”
“More. Please.”
“My pleasure…” He suckled, nipped, tugged at her nipples until she twisted and

squirmed beneath him, whimpering, whining, in need. God, it felt good to be needed by

her.

She tugged at his shirt, and he rose up enough to help her pull it off him. Her hands

were on him then, his chest, his back. She pulled him down and sought his mouth for a

kiss that was simple and needy all at once. She pressed her tongue into his mouth, and

damn if he was having a hell of a time holding onto his control. His Kerri had never

been the aggressor, never been the one to demand. She might not have been saying

anything now with words, but her body spoke volumes, and he could barely keep

himself from answering.

But he fought the need to rip open his jeans and fuck her. That was not what this

was about. He let her cling to him, rub against him, and when she wrapped her legs

around his waist and squirmed her heat against his denim-covered cock, he let her. She

kissed without finesse, without skill. Her nails worked his shoulders and made him so

hot he thought he might burst.

While she went a little wild, he held her in his arms and let her have what she

wanted. Her mouth was on his, her tongue in his mouth, then she was biting his neck,

his shoulder. Her hands were everywhere—on his back, his chest, and then she was

pulling him down over her so their chests pressed together.

The “please” that ripped from her startled him.
“Please what?” he asked, panting, trying to concentrate on her, not the need

burning through his own body.

“I need more!”

Anna Leigh Keaton

He scooted down farther, between her legs, pushed the lace of her G-string to the

side and buried his face in her cunt.

Kerri shouted and bucked against his mouth.
Malcolm moaned and lapped at her sweetness. She’d never let him do this before.

He was lucky if she allowed his fingers between her legs for more than a couple of

seconds. Oh God, she tasted so good.

Her hips thrust against him, and he raised her legs over his shoulders before

wrapping his arms around her hips and pressing against her abdomen to try to regain a

little control.

Kerri whimpered and gripped his forearms over her middle.
He flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue fast and hard, then delved his tongue

as deep into her cunt as he could.

“Yes! Yes!” she cried and thrust, thrust, thrust against him. “Plee-ee-eese!”
Although he wanted to make it last forever, never wanted to leave this sweet, warm

place, he suckled her hardened clit between his lips and slid two fingers into her.

On a gush of silky heat, Kerri screamed and her nails dug into the one arm still

trying to hold her down.

He bent his fingers up and tickled her G-spot.
“No!” she cried, but he didn’t stop his assault because her hips bucked faster, even

harder, and then she screamed again, and every muscle in her body tightened, her legs

clamped around his neck, and she fucked his face and fingers with jerky movements of

her hips until on a long sob, she went limp.

Lapping at her juices, he slowed, gentled, withdrew his fingers from her, which

elicited another moan. Against his tongue, he felt her spasms of release continue. He

soothed her until her breathing slowed a little, and then he leaned up over her and

looked down into her face.

Her eyes were closed, a few strands of sweat-dampened hair clung to her cheeks,

and her mouth hung open slightly as she panted.

Stretching out next to her, he pulled her into his arms and cradled her against his

chest. She curled into him, burying her face against his chest.

“You were magnificent, Kerri.”
A soft sob slipped out of her, and he leaned his head back so he could look into her

face. She didn’t want him to see though, and she pressed into him as another sob came

out.

“No. No, babe. Don’t cry. Everything is okay. I swear it is. I love you. Don’t cry. I’ll

take care of you.”

She was shaking her head, clinging to him, her tears wetting his chest.

Lose Control

“Son of a bitch, baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry I didn’t stop when

you said no. I thought. Oh fucking hell.” He held her tight and buried his face against

her hair. What had he done?

“I hate her!” she cried. “She made me miss so mu-u-ch…” Her words dissolved into

more sobs.

Kerri was crying because of her mother, not because of what he’d done to her. He

held her tight and let her get it out, cleanse her soul. She needed it. They both did.

* * * * *

Kerri stared at Malcolm while he slept. He still wore his jeans, his chest bare, that

sexy five o’clock shadow darkening his chin. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever

known, inside and out.

She would never forget the day they met. Her flower shop had only been up and

running a few weeks. She lived with a terror of failure hanging over her every waking

moment, because she’d taken everything she had—her mother’s life insurance money,

every penny she’d saved since she started working at sixteen—and sank it into the little

shop. When she began, she slept on a cot in the storage room because there was nothing

left to pay rent on an apartment.

She’d been sorting through a fresh delivery of the most gorgeous white roses when

this incredibly handsome man walked into the shop, the saddest hangdog expression in

his eyes, and she just wanted to take away that look of pain. She’d handed him one of

the roses from the display vase she’d been arranging and told him she wished him

peace and tranquility.

He’d smiled at her and smelled the flower, but the dark sadness never left his eyes.

He’d thought she was flirting with him, and he asked her out to dinner.

Temptation nearly got the best of her, but she fought the instant attraction to his

good looks and sad eyes. Because of that attraction, she fought him off as long as she

did. Until he stopped coming around, stopped bothering her daily, and she read in the

newspaper an obituary for Mary Shields, and Malcolm Shields was one of her sons. The

sadness in his eyes made sense, and when she took a spray of white roses and

carnations to his mother’s wake, he’d hugged her in way of thank you, and broke down

and cried on her shoulder. He needed her. He broke through her wall of self-protection,

and she’d been the one to ask him to dinner.

She’d never had so much fun as she did with him. He took her to the fair and won

her a stuffed monkey from a shooting gallery. He took her to the theater, and the ballet

to see The Nutcracker at Christmas. They ate in restaurants all up and down the coast,

tasting the best seafood the state had to offer, and to vineyards to sample wines.

When had the fun stopped, she wondered as she watched him sleep. They still went

places together, especially now that they had a child who was old enough to enjoy fairs

and festivals, but when was the last time they had enjoyed spending time together?

When was the last time he’d enjoyed spending time with her?

Anna Leigh Keaton

She let out a slow breath and blinked back the stinging tears. She’d done this. She’d

killed his teasing, his laughter. She’d trapped him in a marriage that didn’t make him

happy. All because she’d lived her adult life with beliefs that were untrue.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered and laid her hand over his chest, curling her fingers

into his soft, crinkly chest hair.

His eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.
She ran her hand over his chest, down his stomach. With his body, his looks, he

could have been a model. Maybe he didn’t look much like Hugh Jackman, but

sometimes she thought so. Tall, with thickly muscled arms and thighs. Hands rough

from years of manual labor. Hands that felt so good when they touched her, rubbed her,

stroked her.

Her breath caught slightly as her core jerked and clenched. The things he’d done to

her just a few hours earlier… Her body still reacted to them.

The shame was gone, but the anger toward her mother was not. After she’d

experienced that amazing, life-altering orgasm, she’d realized what she’d forced herself

to miss out on in her marriage because she’d believed a bitter old woman.

But more than the anger was the need for her husband. He’d fallen asleep while she

cried, and he hadn’t stirred since. But just days ago, he’d told her it would make him

the happiest man in the world if she woke him up by crawling on top of him and

begging for sex.

Still, she had to work up the nerve to do it. It had taken all her willpower to talk to

him, to tell him she wanted to experience oral sex. The light was still glowing from his

nightstand. Slowly, so as not to jostle the bed, she sat up and pulled the sheer nightie

over her head and dropped it on the floor next to the bed. Then she carefully wiggled

out of the G-string and dropped it too. He’d said he wanted to see his wife naked.

Kerri reached over and gently opened the fly of his jeans, carefully lowering the

zipper over the bulge. He was still semi-hard beneath his forest-green underwear, and

she couldn’t stop herself from stroking his penis through the soft cotton material.

Malcolm’s cock jerked slightly, and she pulled away, glancing up at his face. His

eyes were open, and he stared at her as if he didn’t know who she was.

Brazenly, though inside she quivered with nerves, Kerri leaned up on her hands

and leaned over him so her face was just above his. “I want sex.”

Her husband’s breath whooshed out and he grabbed her, pulling her down over

him, crushing her mouth to his as he trapped her head between his hands.

He kissed her hard, deep and wet. Their tongues tangled and she couldn’t breathe.

When the tingles of arousal, of desire began to spread through her, she let them,

welcomed them, urged them to grow.

Breaking the kiss, Malcolm lifted her to straddle his waist. “I want sex too.”
She grinned and nipped at his bottom lip while has hands roamed over her back,

her sides. “Touch my breasts,” she said softly against his mouth.

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He did, cupping them in those lovely roughened palms, abrading the tips with his

thumbs. Against her center, she felt his penis grow hard, and she dampened as the need

spread through her. A moan pulled out of her unfettered when she rubbed herself

against the cotton of his underwear.

“I hope you know just how hot this is,” Malcolm said between kisses. His hands

never stopped massaging her breasts, bringing her more and more pleasure with each

stroke of his thumbs. “I’ve dreamed of you like this as long as I’ve known you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered before she leaned in and kissed him hard, the way he

seemed to like it. It was so new to her, taking the lead, being the aggressor, but she liked

it. Mostly she liked knowing it was okay to do it, that he wouldn’t think poorly of her if

she did.

“No more apologies. Tonight is our new beginning.” He reached between her legs

with one hand and teased her center with his fingertips. “Oh god, you’re wet.” The last

words came out on a moan.

Kerri moved her hips against his hand, urging him to sink those fingers into her the

way he had earlier, even as she kissed him deep and wound her arms around his neck.

Her bare breasts pressing against his solid, hairy chest made her shiver. Not in five

years had they been skin to skin like this, not since their wedding night when she found

out what touching him did to her. She groaned in delight and rubbed against him like a

kitten.

Malcolm’s fingers left her heat, and she made a sound of disappointment and

leaned up to look him in the face.

With a grin filled with mischief and eyes that sparkled with a particular happiness

she hadn’t seen in a very long time, he grabbed her bottom in both hands and lifted his

hips to grind against her.

Her eyes widened in surprise to realize he’d freed his penis from his underwear.

The silky heat of it slid along her dampness and nudged against her clit, making her

even wetter. When he squeezed her bottom, she let out a moan of pure need and

pleasure and rubbed her chest against his again.

“You gonna ride me, babe?”
She nodded. She’d never been on top before. It excited her. She loved feeling him

under her, all that power and strength. And the way he held her, those big hands on her

bottom, squeezing, making things feel so good, better than even earlier when she

thought it had been the best it could get.

“Take me in your hand and put me inside that sweet cunt of yours.”
Kerri gasped and her entire body heated at his language. She’d never heard that

word out of him.

He chuckled. “Do it, babe. Fuck me.”
Kerri laughed. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it.”

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She reached between her legs and took him in her hand. “I want your…cock.” Then

she laughed again, feeling so free.

“It’s all yours. Do me.”
She aligned the tip of his…cock…against her…pussy…and slowly lowered herself

onto it. “Oh….”

“Oh yeah. That’s it.” He still gripped her bottom, and he pressed her down harder,

so she felt his pelvic bone against her clit. “Rotate your hips, Ker.”

She did, making a swirling motion that rubbed her clit over his pelvic bone and

made his cock press spots inside her that made her blood heat and her fingers tingle.

“Now fuck me, Kerri. Fuck me hard.”
She leaned forward, bracing her hands against his chest, and rose up, withdrawing

him from inside her, then back down, taking him deep, swirling her hips when she got

to the base.

Malcolm groaned and his eyelids drooped. The muscle in his jaw ticked, his nostrils

flared.

“You like your wife fucking you?” she asked, forcing the words out beyond her

ingrained sense of propriety even as she moved over his cock, gaining speed.

“You have no idea what a turn-on it is to hear you talk like that.” His grin was a

little evil-looking, and her excitement grew.

“You like my cunt?” she asked, and her cheeks burned, but seeing his nostrils flare

and his teeth grit, she knew he really loved her talking that way.

“It’s the best cunt I’ve ever had. The only one I want for the rest of my life.” Now he

used his hands on her bottom to guide her faster, faster, deeper and deeper.

She wanted to keep bantering, but the heat, the electricity sizzling through her

veins was too much. Soon all she could think about was reaching that precipice,

wanting that all-consuming explosion to happen again like earlier when his mouth had

been on her.

“Fuck me!” Malcolm demanded.
She did. Hard. As hard and fast as she could, until she couldn’t breathe.
And then Malcolm reached one hand beneath her and pinched her clit while with

his other hand, he pressed a finger against her anus.

Kerri screamed and rode him so hard stars exploded behind her closed eyes.
Malcolm shouted three times and came up off the bed, pressing into her so deep she

was sure they were permanently fused.

Lose Control

Chapter Seven

A weight lifted off the Shields household and Malcolm was positive every member

of the family felt it. Even Shelly, who came over to pick up Justin every morning,

commented that they all seemed really happy lately. The days were filled with work as

usual, but the nights were filled with love.

Sex. Lots and lots of hot sex.
His wife had done a complete one-eighty in the last few weeks. From white cotton

body-hiding nightgowns to skimpy red and black things he could see through to

nothing at all, which he personally liked best. She’d gone from being completely

passive in the bedroom to demanding and needy. He loved it. He couldn’t get enough.

It was difficult to wait until after Justin was asleep before he dragged his gorgeous wife

into their bedroom and finally, finally after so long, had his way with her.

But outside the bedroom, Kerri was a different woman too. She was happy, she

laughed, she joked, she teased. Sure, she’d always been that way with Justin, she was a

good mom, but he could count on one hand the number of times she’d teased him over

the years.

Yesterday morning when she came downstairs wearing a new short skirt and tight

blouse, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue. She’d winked at him, turned around, and

bent over and asked, “What do you think?” His prim and proper wife was turning into

a nympho, and he loved it. This was exactly what he’d imagined when he asked her to

marry him. This was what was supposed to have happened on their honeymoon, not

five years and a kid later. But it was happening, and he couldn’t contain his complete

sense of joy and contentment.

A throat being cleared had Malcolm jumping.
“Hey, boss, wherever you were looked pretty intense.”
Malcolm shrugged and hoped his cheeks weren’t turning pink. He hadn’t been

quite this distracted by a woman since he met Kerri and was trying to figure out how to

get her to date him. “Whatcha need, Ken?”

His employee laid out a set of plans on his wide desk, and they went over some

numbers for the metal core doors needed for a bank they’d won the bid on.

His cell rang, and glancing at the number, he said to Ken, “I gotta take this.”
Ken nodded, picked up the plans and walked out of Malcolm’s office, leaving him

alone.

“Hey, babe,” he said softly into the phone.
“Hi. Where are you?” Kerri asked.
“Office. You?”

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“Just finished a delivery in the North End.”
“So you’re nearby.”
“Uh huh.”
“You want to grab lunch?”
“Nu uh.”
Malcolm frowned. “What’s up then?”
“Turn around.”
He swiveled his chair to see her standing in his doorway. His frown turned into a

grin. When she shut the door behind her and pushed in the lock button, he raised his

eyebrows. When she rounded the desk and dropped to her knees in front of him,

grabbing his waistband and popping open his fly, he dropped his phone.

“Ker…”
Without a word, she pulled his dick out of his underwear and took him deep into

her mouth with one powerful suck.

“Fuck, Ker…”
“No time for that,” she said, then licked from base to tip. “But I got time for this.”

She suckled him then deep-throated him, and he bit his tongue to keep from moaning.

Ken’s office was right next door to his, and the walls were paper thin.

Within seconds, he was fighting his release. Damn, she’d gotten some skill in a few

short lessons. He gripped the armrests of his office chair and watched her sexy lips

move over his cock. “I’m going to come.”

She squeezed the base of his dick and sucked hard.
“Shit.” He came on a soft groan, and she licked him clean.
“Come here, you little slut,” he said, dragging her onto his lap and shoving his

hand between her legs under her skirt. Her panties were damp, and when he pushed

them aside and sank two fingers into her cunt, she bucked and moaned. He pressed her

face to his shoulder to muffle her. “Shh. Ken’s next door.”

Kerri clung to his shoulders as he finger-fucked her and tortured her hard little clit.

It took only moments before her body tensed and she whimpered her release with a

warm, silky release over his hand.

They sat in his chair panting, her head on his shoulder, for a few long moments.

Then she sat up and looked at him. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks rosy. He chuckled

and kissed her nose.

“That was fun.” She grinned.
“That was…damn, Ker.” He laughed and leaned forward to nuzzle her cleavage.

She’d never worn tight blouses before last week, and they were sexy as hell.

She ran her fingers through his hair and hugged him around the shoulders before

hopping off his lap. “I have to get back to the shop. Patrick’s holding down the fort by

himself.” She kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

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Damn but he felt all warm and fuzzy inside. “I love you too, babe. I’ll walk you

out.”

She made a little face and glanced down at his hand. “You better go clean up a

little.” Then she winked and laughed, and damn if it didn’t look as if she skipped out of

his office.

On his way back from the bathroom, Ken looked up when Malcolm passed his

door. “I’m pretty sure that was a land speed record on quickies.”

“We need some insulation in these walls,” was Malcolm’s only response as he

turned into his own office and went back to his desk.

* * * * *

Kerri grinned like a loon all the way back to the shop. Never in her life had she felt

so free, so happy. Who would have ever thought that sex—good sex with her

husband—could make her feel this way? Who knew it was even possible to feel this

way?

Of course, she’d experienced happiness in her life. Great joy. When she got

married—before the wedding night. When Justin was born and watching him grow into

a beautiful little boy.

But the heaviness that had plagued her since her wedding night, the fear and need

and uncertainty… It was simply gone. Poof! Her life was finally complete, and she’d

had no idea what was missing until Malcolm pushed her into facing it.

She parked her car behind the flower shop and practically floated through the back

door only to hear Patrick in the showroom trying to calm a woman who was simply

lambasting him.

“Ms. Jordan, I promise that your roses will be fresh. Everything will arrive on

Friday so that they’re only a day—”

“A day old?” the woman screeched. “They have to be fresh picked. I want them to

be dew covered and—”

Kerri stepped out of the back room and came up next to Patrick. “Good afternoon,

Ms. Jordan.” This woman could drive a nun to murder. “I can assure you it is physically

impossible to have flowers at your wedding, scheduled for eleven a.m., to be cut that

day unless you’re holding your wedding in a rose garden. Have plans changed and the

venue moved?”

Ms. Jordan pursed her lips. “It’s at the cathedral, as you well know. But look at

these!” She waved her hand at the glass coolers where the cut flowers were. “They’re

wilted! I will not have wilted roses at my wedding!”

Kerri smiled pleasantly and opened one of the doors to the walk-in coolers. She

stepped inside, withdrew a single, long-stem pink rose, picked up a squirt bottle and

misted it lightly, then she came out and handed it to Ms. Jordan. “Would you accept

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this single rose as a promise that every flower in every arrangement, including your

bouquet, will be as perfect as this one?”

The woman glanced at the flower in her hand and huffed.
“Now, Ms. Jordan. Why don’t you go finish the rest of your preparations for your

ceremony? I’m sure there are thousands of little details that need your attention. I will

see you Saturday morning at the cathedral with perfect, dewy roses.”

Ms. Jordan frowned at her, but then glanced at the rose, turned and walked out of

the shop without another word.

“How in the hell did you do that?” Patrick asked. “She’d been yelling at me for a

good fifteen minutes before you got here.”

Kerri grinned at him and patted his cheek. “It’s the biggest day of her life coming

up. She just needed some reassurance.”

Patrick frowned at her. “You’ve always been very polite to customers, but two

weeks ago you would have invited her to find another florist.”

Kerri laughed. “Stress makes people cranky. I was cranky before. Now I’m not.”

She turned to pick up the order book to see what she should work on next.

“What happened to make you less cranky? Because I’m not sure I know how to deal

with a smiling, happy boss. One who wears her hair down and dresses up in cute little

outfits now.”

She made a face at him and headed into the cooler. He followed her.
“I’m serious. What happened to you?”
She pulled three stargazer lilies out of one display and four sterling roses from

another. “Pat, I don’t normally discuss my personal life with…well, with anyone, but

we’ve worked together a long time, so I’ll say this. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I

was living my life one way because I thought it was the only way to survive. Now I

know there’s more to life.” She turned and smiled at him. “Make sense?”

His brow wrinkled. He was adorably sweet. “Not really.”
She tapped him on the chest with the flowers. “It’s a new me, okay? Can you live

with it?”

He smiled at her. “Yes. I like the new you a lot.”
“Good. Get to work. We’ve got a lot of arrangements to get done before we close

tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

* * * * *

Two days later, Kerri was alone in the shop, having sent Patrick off to make

deliveries. Perhaps it was time to hire another employee. They were busier and busier

every month, which was great for the bottom line, but lately only one of them was in

the store at one time because the other was making deliveries.

Lose Control

She’d ask Pat what he thought about her hiring a delivery driver. It would take

some pressure off the two of them. They’d have more time to work together on designs,

which was her favorite part of the business.

As she stood at the workbench in the back room, keeping her ears open for the

sound of the bell over the door, she put together Ms. Jordan’s bridal bouquet. All white

roses, no greenery showing. A tight, perfectly circular bundle of rosebuds.

Kerri thought back to her own wedding. She’d made her own floral arrangements.

It was back when she ran the store alone, scrimping every penny she had to keep it

afloat until she could build a clientele. Their wedding had been quick and simple in a

small nondenominational chapel. Only family had been invited. Malcolm’s brothers

had footed the bill for the reception hall, and that was where Kerri found out how

popular a guy Malcolm was. His friends filled the room. Kerri hadn’t invited anyone

but Tamara and her family.

Malcolm had been so sweet, never leaving her side. He’d held her hand or kept an

arm around her through those long hours of revelry. He’d danced with her, even

though she had two left feet and no rhythm. And then, when they made their escape

out the back door when no one was looking, he’d driven her up the coast to a tiny B&B.

Rose petals decorated their bed. Champagne chilled in a bucket on the nightstand.

Candles flickered from every flat surface. It was every bride’s fantasy.

Kerri had ruined it.
What would her wedding night have been if she had known what she now knew?
She smiled and brought the bouquet to her nose to inhale the sweet fragrance.
It would have been magical.
Closing her eyes, she imagined a different scenario from what had been. When

Malcolm swept her into the room, pulling her into his arms and removing the veil from

her hair, she would have melted into him and accepted his hot, ardent kisses. She

wouldn’t have been frightened when his tongue delved into her mouth and his hands

cupped her breasts.

If then were now, she would have ripped his tuxedo shirt off him and licked his

chest, his neck, bit his flesh and dug her nails into his back the way he liked. Oh if she’d

had the emotional freedom to do all those things then, it would have been a miracle,

that wedding night, not the disaster it had been.

Kerri inhaled deeply again and brought herself back to that night when the room

was scented with roses and beeswax. Brought herself back to that night as if her new

self were there.

The bed was so soft, her husband so hard and beautiful standing there nude in front

of her for the first time.

She raised her arms around his neck and accepted his kisses as their naked skin

pressed together, her nipples abraded by that soft hair on his chest. His hands were

everywhere at once. In her hair, along her back, cupping her butt. She clung to him, let

him lift her into his arms and wrapped her legs around him. He fell with her onto the

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bed, his cock so soft and silky, yet hard and beautiful, sliding along her slit, making her

wet, making her writhe.

“I love you, wife.” He kissed her ear, her cheek, her eyes, then her mouth. His

strong, sensual lips making her melt into the mattress as his weight pressed her,

surrounded her, made her safe.

She raised her hips and took him in. The pain was quick and sharp, but it passed as

he held her still and whispered such sweet words of love and encouragement in her ear.

And then he moved, so slow and perfectly against her, in her, surrounding her.

“Oh,” she sighed as the orgasm grew. Such sweet torture.
“Please,” she begged her new husband, and he gave her all she needed with kisses,

touches and that gorgeous cock deep within her body.

“Hellll—oooo? Is anyone here?”
Kerri’s eyes snapped open. She leaned against the worktable, her hand between her

legs, her fingers wet with her juices.

“Hello? Oh there you are. I guess you didn’t hear me come in.”
Kerri jerked her hand from between her legs and turned, forcing a smile. “Hi. Sorry.

I was…”

The woman’s smile faded a little. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.”
Kerri held up one finger of the hand that hadn’t been in her crotch. “Excuse me one

minute.” She dashed for the restroom and shut the door.

Her stomach clenched. What had she done? What had she become? This was her

workplace, not her bedroom. What was wrong with her? She scrubbed her hands with

hot water and lots of soap before going out to the showroom. No one was there.

Kerri stumbled to the stool behind the counter and sank down on it.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t be this person. She’d jeopardize

her business if she was.

The back door opened and Patrick came in, whistling. “Hey, Kerri. All the

deliveries are done. What’s next?”

Kerri waved toward the workbench. “Jordan wedding arrangements.”
“Kerri? What’s wrong?” Patrick reached out to touch her face, but she jerked away

from him.

“Don’t touch me.” She stood and moved around the counter. “I’m fine.”
“No, I don’t think you are. What happened? Your face is pale as a sheet.”
“I’m fine. We have a lot of work to do.” She made a shooing motion toward the

workroom. She went to the cooler to get more white roses, but once inside she drew in a

deep breath and fought back the tears. “Oh God, what’s wrong with me?”

Lose Control

Chapter Eight

Kerri had been acting strangely all evening. Quiet. Subdued. Not a single smile,

even when Justin made a joke about bears sitting in the woods—something he’d heard

from another kid at school that day. When Malcolm asked her what was wrong, she

forced a fake smile and shook her head.

At eight-thirty as usual, they took Justin upstairs together, got him in his pajamas

and teeth brushed, then sat with him on his bed and read him a story. He fell asleep by

eight-forty-five like clockwork, they kissed his cheeks, then left his room.

Malcolm reached for Kerri’s hand, but she pulled away.
“I have some paperwork I have to do. I’ll be in the office.” She walked to the end of

the hall to the small home office they shared. Since they both worked outside the home,

neither of them used it much, but they each had a desk and computer in there.

“Ker?”
She turned at the doorway. “Hm?”
“You sure you’re okay?”
She nodded, plastered on another of those fake smiles and went into the room,

leaving him in the hallway.

At eleven-thirty, after watching the late local news, Malcolm shut off the television

and went in search of his wife. He found her slumped in her office chair, asleep. He

smiled and walked over to her, pushed her hair out of her face.

She jerked back, her eyes popping wide open.
“Hey, babe. It’s late. You fell asleep.”
“Oh.” She rolled her chair back and stood up. “Sorry.” Without another word, she

moved around him, leaving distance between them, and left the office.

Malcolm trailed her into their bedroom. She went into the bathroom and shut the

door. He frowned, wondering what the hell had happened that day to make her so

jumpy and weird. He shrugged, deciding she’d tell him when she was ready, and

stripped out of his clothes before sliding under the covers. He was just reaching to shut

out the light when Kerri came out of the bathroom wearing the white cotton nightgown

from hell.

She didn’t say a word as she climbed into bed, pulled the covers to her neck and

turned her back to him.

Okay then. Malcolm shut off the light and closed his eyes. She was probably on the

rag. She’d always been very weird about that time of the month. Maybe some things

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weren’t going to change. He grinned into the dark and rolled toward her, wrapping his

arm around her waist.

Her entire body tensed. “Please don’t.”
“Babe. Come on. It’s okay.”
In a choked voice, she begged. “Please don’t touch me right now.”
“Hey…” He let go of her and moved away. “What’s going on?”
“I have that big wedding tomorrow. I’m tired. Can we talk about this later?”
Malcolm wanted to hold her, but that big “Closed for Business” sign was flashing

neon. “Sure, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she whispered.
When he touched her back, she flinched away. Malcolm rolled over and hugged his

pillow instead.

* * * * *

Kerri had been exhausted when she got home Saturday afternoon, and Malcolm

gave her space. Sunday afternoon, the three of them, plus Shelly, went bowling and had

burgers and fries for dinner. Kerri never once cracked a smile, no matter what was said

or what happened, even when she kicked everyone else’s butts by getting an almost

perfect score.

By Sunday night, Malcolm had had enough of the silence. When Kerri came out of

the bathroom for the third night in a row wearing that goddamn white cotton

nightgown, he said, “I haven’t seen any little rolled-up green wrappers in the bathroom,

so you’re not on the rag. What’s with you?” He motioned toward the nightgown. “Sorry

to tell you, babe, but even that ugly thing isn’t a turn-off anymore. Want to tell me what

I did to piss you off?”

Kerri stood in front of him, arms folded over her middle as if she was trying to give

herself comfort. Her dark eyes were big and filled with sadness. “I made a mistake.”

Malcolm’s anger melted away and he reached for her. “What mistake, babe?”
She stepped back, out of his reach and shook her head. “Don’t touch me.”
In a flash, myriad thoughts skimmed through his mind, none of which he could

accept that his wife was capable of. “What did you do?”

Kerri’s shoulders hunched, and she looked away from him. “My mom was only

partly right. It wasn’t that I’d lose myself to a man—to you.” She bit her bottom lip for

an instant. “I will lose everything I have built.”

“What?” Malcolm had no idea what she was talking about.
“Right now I can’t have you touch me. Not until I can gain a little control over my

reaction to you. Not until we can get back to the way things used to be.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Go back to the way we used to be?”

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She nodded and looked back at him. “My mom was right. I can’t handle lust. It’s

not healthy what it does to me. Maybe it’s a genetic thing in the women in my family

I—”

Malcolm grabbed her by the shoulders, wanting to shake some sense into her, but

she jerked from him and backed away.

“Don’t touch me.”
“Your mom was a bitter old bitch who had no idea what love was. What the fuck

are you talking about, Kerri? You’re not making sense. Why the hell would you ever

want to go back to the way we were? Things have been amazing between us these past

couple of weeks.”

“Because when I let lust into my life, it takes over!”
“It’s supposed to take over. Did you…” He could barely say the words. “Did you

have sex with someone else?”

Her eyes went wide. “No! Just you!” Her voice dropped and her face turned bright

red and her voice dropped. “And myself.”

“Then I don’t get it.” He stepped forward, reaching for her again.
She moved back, bumped against the wall, and slid sideways and went around

him, away from him, running from him like a scared child.

“Stop this,” he pleaded. “Explain this to me. Are you ashamed because you

masturbated?”

“I can’t stop! I can’t stop thinking about sex, about…about fucking. I want to be

with you every second of every day, and when I’m not with you, I’m thinking about

you, about having sex with you.” Her words broke on a sob, and she pressed her hand

to her mouth and looked at him with eyes filled with shame and tears.

“I don’t know why that is a bad thing, Ker. I’m having a hell of a time thinking

about anything but you lately too.”

“See? I’ve made it bad for both of us.”
He moved toward her again. “You’ve made it wonderful for us.”
When he reached for her again, she threw up her hands and shouted, “Don’t touch

me! I can’t take it!”

“Can’t take what?” he shouted back.
“When you touch me I want sex.” Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she kept

backing away from him. “I can’t control myself. I need my control back. I have to have

it. I can’t do it with you touching me.”

A wash of cold spread through Malcolm. “Let me get this straight. When you think

you can control yourself, you’ll lie in that bed wearing that fucking nightgown,” he

sneered at the thing, “and spread your legs and let me fuck you. Is that it? Just like you

used to? Just my dick inside you, no touching, no kissing, no God damn love?”

“I love you,” she said through her tears, desperation in her voice.

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Anger raged through him. Through gritted teeth, he said, “If you think that’s going

to happen, you’re as fucked up as your mother was.” He headed out the door and

down the stairs. He had to get the hell out of the house before he totally lost it. How

could she do this? Think these things?

“Malcolm!” she called from the top of the stairs, and he ignored the pain and fear

he heard.

He grabbed his keys from the hall table and his jacket off the coat tree and left the

house, blocking the sound of her pain-filled sobs from his mind.

In his truck, he turned the ignition, then slammed his fists against the steering

wheel. He let out a shout of anger and confusion and hit the wheel again. What the hell

was wrong with her? How could she have experienced two blissful weeks of the most

amazing sex imaginable and want to go back to being in control? Control, for God’s

sake. And not the good kind! She wanted to not feel pleasure. He didn’t get it.

He pulled out of the driveway and drove aimlessly for an hour, until he realized he

needed gas. When he stopped off at a station, he realized he wasn’t far from Tamara’s

home. After filling the tank, he headed to her house and parked on the street. The lights

were still on in the lower part of the house, so he went up the walkway and rang the

bell.

Jacob, her husband, answered the door. “Hey, Malcolm.” They shook hands, and

Jacob stepped aside to let him in. “You’re out late.”

Malcolm nodded. “Hi. Your wife around?”
“Tam!” he shouted.
“What?” came Tamara’s answer from somewhere deep inside the big house.
“Your brother-in-law is here.” Jacob grinned at Malcolm. “Care for a drink?”
“Actually…yeah. The stronger the better.”
“You okay?” Jacob headed into the living room and the bottles lined up on an

antique buffet.

“Just some stuff with the wife,” Malcolm said, not knowing how much Tamara had

shared with Jacob about Kerri.

“Hey, brother,” Tamara said, coming into the room carrying a big mug that she

always had filled with coffee. “What’s up?”

Malcolm accepted the half-filled rocks glass from Jacob and said, “Trouble in

paradise. Got a few minutes to talk?”

“Uh oh. Come on back to the kitchen. Jake…”
“I don’t want to know,” he said on a sigh. “I’m going to head up to bed.”
Tamara gave Jacob a quick kiss. “Thanks, hon.”
Jacob patted her ass, and Malcolm sipped the strong whisky, fighting the bite of

jealousy that plagued him.

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In the kitchen, Tamara pointed to a seat at the end of the oval oak table there. She

sat down and started organizing and piling the papers spread out on the table.

“Caught me trying to catch up on some old files. The company is getting audited.”
Malcolm made a face of sympathy. “Sorry to hear that.”
Tamara was her husband’s secretary. Jacob ran a rather large antiques consignment

shop.

“No big deal. Everything is above board.” Tamara shoved the pile of papers into a

folder and moved it to the side. “Just a big pain in the ass is all. So…” She picked up her

coffee mug again. “What did my little sister do now?”

Malcolm frowned.
“Oh come on. You wouldn’t be here in the middle of the night if she didn’t do

something…weird. Since I haven’t heard from either of you in almost two weeks, I

figured things were going pretty well.”

Malcolm took another good swig of the alcohol and slumped in the chair. When he

finished the overview of the argument they’d had that night, Tamara looked sad and

kept shaking her head.

“I don’t get it,” he said. “Things were…amazing for two weeks. She was…” He

couldn’t find words. She’d been the wife he’d always dreamed of.

“Something happened to scare her.” Tamara got up and went to the counter where

she poured herself another mug of coffee from the carafe on the stove. “So…what did

you do? What made her freak out and want to go back to the way things had been?

What made her decide that our mother was right about the whole never-let-yourself-

experience-lust thing?”

“I wasn’t even around her whenever whatever happened happened!”
Tamara frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“Friday night she avoided me like the plague and put on that damn nightgown

again. Asked me not to touch her, that she had a big wedding to do the next day.” He

swiped his hand through his hair. “God damn it, I thought she was on the rag.”

Tamara pursed her lips. “Well, there’s a man for you. If they don’t want it, they

must be on the rag.”

“You don’t get it. Up until that night, she’d been… Hell, she’d been all over me.

Then she tells me not to touch her. Saturday she was exhausted, put on the nightgown

and went to sleep. Then tonight I confront her about the nightgown and…”

“And she tells you the truth.”
“What truth? She’s upset that she can’t control herself and wants to go back to

passionless, limp, get-it-over-with sex. This makes no fucking sense!”

Tamara gave a gentle smile. “Please don’t yell at me, brother.”
“Sorry.” He slouched in the chair again. “I’m so confused.”
“And you’re not going to go back to passionless sex again, are you?”

Anna Leigh Keaton

Was he? Could he? If that’s what his wife wanted? He sighed. “Hell no.”
Tamara nodded. “I didn’t think so. Why don’t you let me talk to her? Sister to sister.

I got through last time, I think.”

“Thanks. God…”
“If it helps, I don’t think this really has to do with you.”
He gave her a droll look. “That doesn’t help.”

* * * * *

Kerri came downstairs the next morning dressed for work in her tan pantsuit.

Malcolm hadn’t come to bed, but she’d heard him waking Justin up that morning. His

hair was mussed, he hadn’t shaved and he wore the same jeans and denim work shirt

he’d been wearing when he left last night. She wasn’t sure where he’d spent the night,

but he didn’t look so good this morning.

No, he looked wonderful and it took every ounce of self-discipline she possessed

not to run into his arms and beg him to hold her. Rarely in their whole marriage did

they spend the night apart. Spending the night apart in the middle of an argument had

nearly killed her. It was a glimpse, she thought, of what life would be like without him.

He’d told her she was as crazy as her mother. Would he leave her now like her father

had?

“Coffee’s ready,” he said to her.
“Hi, Mommy!” Justin said, jumping off the chair and running to her for a hug.
She lifted him into her arms. “Good morning, my big boy. You ready for school?”
“Uh huh. We’re going to the zoo today, r’member?”
“Oh that’s right. Well, you have a good time, and don’t let the lions eat you.” She

made growling sounds and nibbled his neck, making him giggle. He smelled so good

first thing in the morning, all clean and fresh. Setting him on his feet, she patted his

bottom and told him to finish his breakfast. “Shelly will be here soon.”

Shelly came in the back door just then. “Morning!” she said cheerily. “How’s

everyone today?” Her smile faded as she glanced at Malcolm.

“All’s good,” Malcolm said, lifting his coffee mug to his lips.
Shelly glanced at Kerri. “You sure? Where’s the pretty clothes today? Got an

important meeting you have to look all Ms. Perfect for?” She laughed.

Kerri forced a smile and nodded. “Something like that.”
Shelly stood there a few moments, her big blue-eyed gaze going back and forth

between Kerri and Malcolm. “Uhh…”

“I’m ready!” Justin announced, dropping his spoon into his cereal bowl with a loud

clank. He jumped off the chair, grabbed his little backpack from the floor by the door

and dashed outside.

“See ya,” Shelly said softly as she went after their son.

Lose Control

Malcolm was staring at Kerri when she turned away from the coffee pot. She

opened her mouth to ask him where he spent the night, but then stopped herself. She

couldn’t even blame him for being angry.

And she didn’t know what to do. What to say. He’d promised he wasn’t going to

leave her, but she wasn’t stupid either. If she couldn’t figure out a way to make this

work so that he was satisfied, she’d lose him. That thought made her want to scream.

Ever since she let her emotions out, everything had gone wrong.

“I just have one thing to say.” He stood, holding his coffee mug, and approached

the counter. “No.”

Startled, she looked up into his tired, blood-shot eyes. “No what?”
“No, you’re not getting your way on this.” He set his mug in the sink and turned

away, leaving her standing alone in the kitchen shaking with need and a fear that she

couldn’t be strong enough to save herself.

Anna Leigh Keaton

Chapter Nine

Kerri was in the workroom, putting together an arrangement of Gerber daisies

when the bell over the front door tinkled. She set aside her florist tape and went into the

show room.

“Hey, baby sis!” Tamara said with a bright smile and even brighter clothes. Her

lemon yellow sundress swished around her knees and hugged her ample curves,

showing off her bare shoulders in the process.

“Kind of late in the year for a sundress, isn’t it?” Kerri asked.
Tamara laughed and gave her a tight hug. “The weather is so gorgeous today I had

to pull it out one last time before the fall rains really get going. Got time for lunch?”

“No. Pat’s off doing deliveries. I’ve got to stay in the shop today.” She waved her

hand toward the back room. “I did bring enough leftover pizza for two for lunch

though. But I’m sure Pat will pick something up between deliveries. He usually does.”

“Sounds good.” Tamara smiled. “Homemade?”
Kerri shook her head. “I’m not you. I don’t cook much. It’s take-out.”
“Oh well, I can always hope you’ll get more domesticated, can’t I?”
Kerri smiled a little. Tamara had been a housewife for years before Jacob retired

from his job as a bank president and bought the antiques shop. Tamara made big meals

from scratch, made handmade Christmas gifts, even made her own wine. Kerri could

make spaghetti because she knew how to boil water and open a jar. Malcolm did most

of the cooking in their house.

“So feed me, Sis.” Tamara grinned then followed Kerri into the workroom.
“Clear off a spot on the table,” Kerri said and went to the small fridge to pull out

the wrapped-up pizza slices. She warmed them, served them on plates she pulled from

a shelf over the microwave and grabbed two diet sodas from the fridge before sitting

down across the workbench from her sister.

She was just lifting the slice to her mouth when Tamara said, “Malcolm dropped by

last night.”

Kerri deliberately bit into the pizza and slowly chewed, staring at the black olives

on her slice rather than looking at her sister.

“He said you two had quite an argument last night.”
Kerri took a sip of cola.
“He said you told him Mother was right.”
Finally, she set the pizza on the plate and looked across the table. “This is none of

your business.”

Lose Control

Tamara tipped her head to the side. “You’ve both come to me about this issue. I’m

in it. Want to explain to me why, after two weeks of the best sex of his life—your

husband’s words by the way—you decided that you don’t want to have sex with him

anymore?”

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. Didn’t anyone know how hard it was to

fight the need? “I want to have sex with him. That’s why I can’t right now.”

“After all we talked about that night we went shopping? I thought you understood

it was okay to desire your husband, to have passion and lust and excitement during

sex.”

Kerri shook her head, kept shaking it as she said, “You don’t understand. I’m out of

control. I want it day and night and in the middle of the night. I can’t stop thinking

about it, about having sex, about Malcolm.”

Tamara’s smile was gentle. “You know, there’s one word that keeps coming up.

Control. Did you ever think that maybe it’s time to let go of your control? That you’ve

been so controlled your entire life that now you need to give it up a little?”

“A customer caught me masturbating here in the shop!” she blurted out, then

squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her head forward into her palm. “Oh God,” she

groaned, mortified she’d admitted her crime aloud.

“Well….” Tamara chuckled. “That is definitely a different Kerri than two weeks

ago.”

“It was awful,” Kerri said, full of shame but forcing herself to make eye contact

with her sister, trying to make her understand just how awful the whole situation was.

“One second I was making an arrangement and remembering our wedding night, and

the next this woman walked in and caught me with my hands in my panties.”

Her sister was silent while she ate a few bites of her pizza. She took a long swallow

from the cold soda can then nodded. “I think I know what’s going on.”

“I already know what’s going on.” Kerri sighed, exasperated that no one seemed to

get it. “Mom was right. Lust takes over your brain and makes you stupid. Makes you

do stupid things. For her, she lost herself in Dad, and it devastated her when he left. For

me, I just…I’m just losing myself to the constant urges and wants of orgasms.”

Tamara gave one little nod. “You, my dear baby sister, are going through at thirty

what most people go through around, oh, fourteen or fifteen. You’re waking up to your

sexuality, to your body, to your cravings.” She smiled, a tender look in her eyes that

made Kerri grimace.

“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? I gave myself my first orgasm when I was fifteen. Jimmy Dalton kissed me at

the bus stop, tongue and all, my first kiss. It made me tingle all over. That night I

touched myself until the most amazing feeling exploded through my body.” She gave a

little laugh. “Took me a few months to figure out exactly what I’d done and repeat the

process, but I promise you, for over a year, hardly a day went by I wasn’t touching

myself, making myself come. It was like magic at my fingertips. I couldn’t get enough.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

Kerri groaned. “I’m not fifteen. I have a business to run, a child to raise, a—”
“Feels good, and you don’t want to ever stop, right? Can’t stop thinking about it?

Be thankful you’ve got a husband who knows what he’s doing in bed. Imagine my

disappointment when I had sex the first time with a guy and found out my hand felt

better than his dick.” She made a face. “So then I stole a vibrator from a little sex shop

downtown.”

Kerri gasped. “You stole it?”
Tamara shrugged. “I’m not proud of it, but yeah. I was underage. It wasn’t like I

could buy one.”

“My god.”
“See, discovering sex makes us do stupid things. You’re just discovering it a little

later in life than the normal person.”

“I can’t live like this.” Kerri got up and took her plate to the little sink by the

microwave. “I can’t…”

“Malcolm said it was Thursday night when you shut the door on him. Have you

not thought about sex since then?”

“Hardly. I seem to be thinking about it even more than ever. My entire body tingles

if a breeze blows through an open window.”

Tamara laughed. “Then abstinence doesn’t really work, does it? Nope. Once you’ve

experienced a truly amazing orgasm, there’s no going back.”

Kerri’s stomach clenched and she plopped back into her chair. “What am I

supposed to do then?”

Tamara popped the last bite of pizza into her mouth. “Well. Hm. When I was going

through this, I was in school. I never got caught masturbating there, so I guess I was

able to shut it off, or at least keep my hands out of my panties long enough to make it

through a day.”

“Mark Walters got caught by another kid masturbating in the bathroom in tenth

grade,” Kerri said with a frown. “The guy never lived it down.”

“Do you think that customer is going to tell everyone what she saw you doing? Are

you going to lose business over this?”

Kerri shrugged. “She didn’t actually see anything. My back was to the door. She

wasn’t a regular customer. I’d never seen her before.”

“Then you’re off the hook.” Tamara grinned. “Would have been way more

embarrassing if Patrick caught you.”

Kerri groaned and closed her eyes. She hadn’t even thought of that scenario. Her

sweet, gay assistant, walking in to see her with her hand in her crotch.

Tamara laughed.
“This isn’t funny!”
“You’re overreacting, hon. Wayyyy overreacting.”

Lose Control

“Malcolm told me ‘no’ this morning.”
“No what?”
Kerri shook her head. “Malcolm told me no, I’m not getting my way on this. If I

don’t figure out how to deal with this, and still give him what he needs, I’m going to

lose him. But every time we’re alone for even a few minutes, it’s sex, sex, sex. I can’t get

a grip on what’s going on inside me if he keeps touching me every time I turn around.”

Tamara’s gave her a deadpan expression. “You’re not that naïve, Kerri. Having hot

sex with his wife is new to him too. And you just cut off his dick.”

Her shoulders slumped. No, she wasn’t that naïve. He couldn’t go back to the way

it was any more than she could, no matter what she’d been telling herself these last few

days. She missed his body, his touch, his love, his warmth. She missed him. The

husband she was just really getting to know after years of marriage.

With a heavy sigh, Kerri shrugged.
“Just make a no-masturbating rule for the workplace,” Tamara suggested with a

cheeky grin.

A little laugh burst out of Kerri. “I gave Malcolm a blowjob in his office last week.”
Tamara’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah?”
Kerri grinned and dipped her head. Then tears came to her eyes. “I feel so out of

control.”

“Aw, hon. Talk to your husband. He’ll understand. Just don’t shut him out again.

He’s been shut out for most of your marriage. He loves you like mad and wants you

happy.”

“I know,” Kerri said, her words choked on tears. “And I’m really awful to him.”
Tamara rolled her eyes. “Another blowjob in his office would probably make him

forgive you. You’d be amazed what a man can forgive once you’ve got his privates in

your mouth.”

Kerri laughed even as a couple of tears trickled down her cheeks. “Thanks, Sis. I

really do love you, you know.”

Tamara’s grin was huge. “I know. And I’m glad we’re finally getting to know each

other better. After we get past all this sex stuff, why don’t you tell me what you want

for Christmas this year?”

Kerri laughed. “You’re such a bitch.”
Tamara’s mouth fell open, then she roared with laughter.

* * * * *

Malcolm’s back ached, he had a crick in his neck, and he was tired. He wanted his

bed, and he wanted his wife. He sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep on the couch another

night. She was his wife, damn it, whether she liked it or not.

Anna Leigh Keaton

With a growl, he pulled into the garage to see his wife’s car wasn’t even there.

Where the hell was she? It was almost seven. Justin met him at the door as soon as he

opened it.

“Daddy!” He jumped into Malcolm’s arms, and Malcolm lifted his boy.
“Hey, kiddo. How was the zoo?”
“Good. I saw elephants! Shelly has somethin’ from Mommy for you.”
Shelly came from the kitchen. “Hey, Mr. Shields.” She held out an envelope. “Mrs.

S. asked me to give this to you as soon as you got home.”

Malcolm’s stomach dropped as he took the envelope from the girl. “She say

anything?”

“Just that I might be needed overnight. It’s all cool. I brought over my pajamas and

homework.”

After giving his boy a kiss on the temple, he set him down and ripped open the

envelope. Inside was a card. A single white rose on a red background. He recognized it

as one she stocked at the flower shop. He glanced at Shelly who stood watching him. If

this was a Dear John type thing… A cold sweat popped out on his forehead. “I’m uh,

going to run upstairs.” He moved past Justin and Shelly and ran up the stairs to his

bedroom, where he shut the door and took a few deep breaths.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned the card over in his hand a few

times.

“Dear God, don’t let this be…” She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
He flipped open the card and sagged in relief.
I need my husband. I’ll wait for you at The Devil’s Den until midnight.
I love you,
Your wife
What in the hell was she doing at The Devil’s Den? It was just after seven now, and

he wondered how long she’d already been there. He jogged down the stairs, gave Justin

a quick hug and another kiss, told Shelly to make sure Justin got to sleep no later than

nine, and that Kerri had been right, they’d probably be out all night. And then he made

it across town to the club in record time.

Lose Control

Chapter Ten

Kerri sat in a booth within full view of the front door, a glass of red wine in front of

her. Her third, actually. Nerves kept her stomach jittery, but the wine seemed to curb

the urge to run. She’d been here an hour, watching the club slowly fill with patrons.

Watching those patrons do naughty, dirty, oh-so thrilling things.

“Everything okay here?”
Kerri turned her attention from a couple at a nearby table. “Yes. Thank you,

Thomas.” She smiled at the waiter she’d been introduced to earlier.

Thomas, dressed in black leather pants and nothing else but a leather collar and

wide leather cuffs on his wrists, leaned over the table slightly to whisper, “It’s okay to

watch a little bit, but staring is still considered rude unless the couple is onstage. And

don’t make eye contact with a Dom.”

Kerri’s face flamed with heat. “Thanks,” she muttered, looking down at her

wineglass. She knew the rules from those books Malcolm had given her, but it was just

all so new. Maybe she should have watched that porn movie her sister made her buy so

this didn’t all seem so shockingly titillating.

“You’re new. There’s a little leeway. Just be careful until your partner arrives.”
“Thanks,” she said again, giving him a quick smile. He must think she was a

moron.

Thomas moved off to another table to take an order, and Kerri lifted her wineglass

to her lips. Where was Malcolm? What if he didn’t come? Of course he’d come. She just

didn’t know when he’d get home to get the note she’d left for him. He hadn’t called her

all day. She should have called him at least to find out when he’d be home. Oh God.

What if he was still pissed about spending the night on the couch and stayed out late?

She’d be stuck here in this booth all alone until midnight. That was what she said in the

note. She’d wait until midnight.

The front door opened, and there he was. She sighed in relief. He was gorgeous in

all black, as he’d dressed the first time he’d asked her here, but the man standing in the

doorway, searching the room for her, was the man she loved. Torn blue jeans. Ripped

from wear and work, not fashion. A faded denim button-down work shirt with the

sleeves rolled to his elbows. His hair was a little too long. Her heart skipped a beat, and

her pussy clenched.

“Please let this be the right decision for us,” she muttered and raised her hand to

get his attention.

Anna Leigh Keaton

His gaze snapped to her, and he headed across the room, around tables, his eyes

never leaving her. He slid into the booth next to her, his breath a little heavy as if he’d

run through the parking lot.

“Hi. I’m glad you came.”
His gaze was intense, dark. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
Thomas came to the table and set a highball glass in front of Malcolm, gave Kerri a

little wink and left without a word. She’d asked that a glass of Crown Royal be

delivered upon Malcolm’s arrival.

“I’d hoped you would, but I’ve been a little difficult to live with lately.”
Her husband snorted and reached for the glass. He tipped it back and drained it in

two swallows. “Now what?”

Kerri shored up her nerves and slid out of the booth. When he made no move, just

stared at her, she tipped her head and started walking through the club. He’d follow.

Since he was here, he’d follow her. She wound her way among the tables, past the bar

and down a long, dimly lit hallway to the door at the very end. The room she’d

reserved for the evening. The door opened easily when she turned the knob.

“Kerri?”
She entered the room, held the door for Malcolm, then shut and locked it. The room

looked like a five-star hotel room—king-size four-poster bed, a writing desk and chair,

a small table with an ice bucket and magnum of champagne. Candles illuminated the

room, giving off the sweet scent of beeswax. Red rose petals scented the air from the

thick white rug and bedspread. The draperies were of the richest black velvet, covering

the voyeur windows. She was here to share herself with her husband, not the rest of the

club. Nothing inside her wished to be seen having sex. Tonight would be the wedding

night they never had. She hoped.

“You seem to know your way around this place pretty well,” Malcolm said, leaning

against the writing desk and crossing his ankles.

Kerri smiled at him. “You know me. I’m a planner. I called and spoke with the

owners who gave me a tour of the place.”

“You met Melanie and Dwain?”
With a nod, she moved toward her husband. “Yes. Very nice couple. They helped

me set this up.” She waved her hand toward the bed. “Do you recognize it?”

He gave a single nod. “I do.” He took a deep breath. “Even smells the same.”
“I called that B&B to try to get us there, but they’re closed for the season. Besides, I

think maybe this is the right place for what I’m going to say.”

He crossed his arms, and Kerri recognized the posture. He was guarding himself.

Her big tough construction worker husband really hated confrontation. “And what are

you going to say?”

“I submit to you.”
He blinked but didn’t say a word.

Lose Control

A tiny bit of panic pricked at Kerri, but she kept herself under control. He was

supposed to have had some kind of reaction to that. It was a big declaration for her.

Finally, he said, “You’re far from the submissive type. I find it hard to believe.”
A genuine smile pulled at her lips, and she laid her hands over his folded forearms.

“That’s the point. Tamara said something to me today that made me really think about

things differently. She said I seemed to have issues with control.”

He nodded. “You do.”
“Right. I have to though, because I run a business, same as you. And there’s raising

Justin. And making sure all the bills are paid on time. And… Well, you know what our

day-to-day life is like.”

“I do.”
“I’ve also been controlling our sex life from the very beginning.”
“That you have.”
She pursed her lips. “And that was new for you, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t answer, but she saw it in his eyes. A need he didn’t voice.
“I spent a couple of hours chatting with Melanie.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest with a groan.
Kerri chuckled and touched his cheek. “It’s okay. It was…illuminating. You were

sorely missed around here by quite a few women when you stopped coming. When you

met me.” He met her gaze. “It was…strange…hearing about you like that, but knowing

that the day you met me you never returned. You gave up all the…the…the…” She

shook her head and looked down. It was hard thinking of her husband with other

women. Women who gave him the physical pleasure he needed when she hadn’t. “You

gave up that way of life for me, and you never tried to force it on me.”

“Until a few weeks ago, and look how that turned out.”
She shook her head. “You were always the perfect gentleman when I now know

that’s the last thing you ever were with the women here.”

Did his cheeks darken? Was he embarrassed about his past?
“Oh Malcolm.” She laid her head against his shoulder, and he dropped his arms

around her waist. “How unsatisfied you must have been with me. And even when

things changed for me, I was still controlling everything, wasn’t I?”

He raised a hand and speared his fingers through her hair, turning her head so she

looked up at him. “You are my wife, and I love you. Do I miss being in charge in the

bedroom? Yes. Can I live without it? Yes. But I can’t live without having sex with my

wife. Hot, dirty, fun sex. Not the way it used to be. I won’t go back to that.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I can’t go back to that either.”
“Then why…?”
“Because the way my body reacts to you is beyond my control. Which goes back to

those control issues I have.”

Anna Leigh Keaton

A small smile curled his lips.
“That’s why, as of tonight, and forever after tonight, I give control of my sexual

needs, wants, desires…the lust and passion that you set free…I give it up to you.”

Malcolm’s nostrils flared, and the heat in his eyes kindled to life. His hand

tightened ever so slightly in her hair.

“You tell me when you want me, how you want me. You are in charge. The only

way I can survive this…this…the overwhelming desire that I feel is if I do not need to

control it. I trust you with my life, my child, my future. I trust you to keep me—”

Malcolm’s mouth crashed down on hers and his arms crushed her to him. Kerri

melted, her bones seeming to liquefy as his tongue stroked hers and his hands held her

so tight.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let herself go, turning herself over to her

husband’s care.

Malcolm walked her backward until her thighs hit the edge of the bed. Only then

did he lift his head and look her in the eye. “Do you mean it, Ker?”

She nodded.
“I’m going to fuck you the way I’ve wanted to since the day I met you.”
Kerri couldn’t contain her smile. “Promise?”
With a growl, he lifted her onto the bed, dropping her unceremoniously onto the

bouncy mattress. “On your knees. Fuck, you wore that skirt again.” She rolled onto her

knees and watched him unbuckle his belt and shove his jeans and underwear down his

legs. His cock bounced free of its restraints, already hard. He didn’t bother with his

work boots or anything, just knelt on the bed, grabbed her hips and turned her around.

“Face on the mattress.” He shoved her skirt up over her ass as she dropped her

cheek to the bed, the sweet scent of the roses filling her senses. That was until his

fingers found her pussy and wiggled against her wetness.

“You should not wear panties more often.” He shoved two fingers into her, and she

moaned, pressing back against him. She’d gone panty-free tonight, knowing it would

be what he wanted.

A sharp slap to her bottom had her jerking away with a yelp, but he grabbed her

hips to keep her from moving.

“I’m in charge, woman.”
Her breath snagged in her throat as excitement skittered through her. He’d never

spoken to her like that, never spanked her before. She wasn’t sure she could take so

much stimulation at once.

Then his fingers were back inside her, pumping, pressing on all those good parts

that only he could find. She fought the urge to press back, but could only stand it for

just so long. With a moan, she shoved her ass back toward him.

Lose Control

Another slap on her bottom, but this time she expected it and let the sting travel

through her. A whimper pulled from deep within her as her orgasm grew from her

core.

“You like that?” He gave another slap, this time to the other cheek.
All she could do was moan and dig her fingers into the bed.
“Shit, baby. Oh man, you are so wet. Reach between your legs and touch yourself

for me.”

Without hesitation, she lowered her right hand between her legs and ran her

middle finger over her hardened clit. “I can’t.” If she did, she’d be unable to stop the

climax that grew with each stroke of his fingers over her G-spot.

“Do it. Come for me, baby. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
Yes she did, and he needn’t wait one second longer. Squeezing her eyes shut, she

teased her clit while he pumped his fingers in and out of her and landed the odd

stinging slap to her bottom. But when he slipped a finger against her anus, all bets were

off, and she cried out as the electrical pulses zigzagged through her.

And then he was in her, his long, hard cock slamming into her so deep, so hard. His

fingers bit into her hips as he held her for the punishing pleasure.

“Keep touching yourself. Come again.”
She did. With a soul-wrenching cry, she came again, and yet again as he fucked her

so hard.

Her legs collapsed from beneath her, and he was over her, his arms around her, his

hips still moving at a fast pace. He groaned, he grunted. Kerri came again from the sexy

sounds of his animalistic need and the changed angle of his strokes.

“Yes!” he shouted in her ear as his whole body went taut and his cock throbbed its

release within her. And then he rolled to the side, Kerri wrapped in his arms, and

panted against her hair as he held her so tight.

One hand coasted down her front, over the silky lacy tank top, over the bunched

leather of her skirt and between her legs.

Kerri whimpered when he pressed his palm against her over-sensitive flesh.
When his heavy breaths slowed to a more normal rate, and Kerri’s heartbeat settled

to a little more stable, she said, “The books were right.”

“Hmm?”
She turned her head and kissed his chin. “Giving up control. Submitting. It’s so

freeing.”

Malcolm snorted and sank a finger inside her. “Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
And then he was over her, kissing her, touching her, proving she should have

submitted her body to her husband long ago. Never again would she be so foolish as to

deny herself passion.

About Anna Leigh Keaton

Anna Leigh Keaton has been penning romance since she was old enough to know

that there was more between boys and girls than cooties, but it wasn’t until her sister

gave her a copy of The Conquest by Jude Deveraux that she knew what she wanted to do

for a living. Many years later it was her brother, who read a copy of one of her

manuscripts she’d tried to keep hidden, who nagged her into trying to get published.

The road was long and not all that easy, but Anna Leigh is now an award-winning,

best-selling author of sensual and erotic romance. She prides herself on her deep

characters, and her goal in life is to make her readers experience every emotion to their

core.

Anna Leigh welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email

addresses on her

author bio page

www.ellorascave.com

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email

the author

directly or you can email us at

Service@ellorascave.com

(when contacting Customer

Service, be sure to state the book title and author).

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

Lose Control

ISBN 9781419945830

Edited by Victoria Reese

Cover design by Michelle

Cover photography by Margarita Borodina and Hanzimor/Shutterstock.com

Electronic book publication May 2013

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in

part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing,

Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of

this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or

print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement

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a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print

editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your

support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales

is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all

trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.

The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or

third-party websites or their content.

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning

publisher Ellora’s Cave. Be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com to find

erotic reading experiences that will leave you breathless. You can also find our books at

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www.ellorascave.com

Document Outline

Lose Control
Lose Control
- Anna Leigh Keaton
Dedication
Author’s Note
- Chapter One
Finally, Kerri looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Mal. I…”
“Ker…”
“You know—”
“Aww, Mommm…”
- Chapter Two
“Where do you want…”
For five years, she’d succeeded, but now…
“I…nothing really…I just…”
- Chapter Three
“Mom said—”
“Mom said—”
- Chapter Four
“Why’d Kerri marry me then? If she thought I’d leave…”
“Babe… If I keep going I’m…”
- Chapter Five
“This isn’t your fault, babe.” If her mother weren’t dead…
She spun around to face him. “I thought you wanted—”
“But you said you wanted—”
“But—”
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
“Ker…”
“Fuck, Ker…”
- Chapter Eight
“Uh oh. Come on back to the kitchen. Jake…”
“Thanks. God…”
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- About Anna Leigh Keaton

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