Free Sweet Stranger (Sweet Series Book 1) by Opal Rai

Trapped in a loveless marriage. Looking to
add spice to my life.
    No. Delete.
    Candlelit dinners, long walks on the
beach -
    Pathetic.
    Seeking an arrangement with no
strings attached.
    Liz sighed and leaned back in her chair. She
couldn't help but feel a vague sense of embarrassment as she typed
out her bio. It felt as though she were trying too hard to be young
again. A married woman writing a dating profile? If she had known a
week ago that she'd be doing this, she would have reprimanded her
future self for reeking of desperation.
    But this site had promised her a discreet,
shame-free experience. Silentmeet.com was a popular hub for single
or committed men and women alike to meet each other. Jen had been
raving about it for weeks, giggling uncontrollably as she described
all her steamy encounters. Today at lunch, she had leaned over her
salad and whispered to Liz like they were a pair of high school
girls gossiping about crushes. That day, it had been about her
latest escapade with a forty-year-old banker who hadn't slept with
his wife in six years.
    "God, Liz. You wouldn't believe the kind of
stuff he was into... kinky as hell. He told me to 'be mean' to him
while we were doing it. Married men are so different from what I
expected. Like, I never thought I would get with an older guy. But
they're so passionate about it when they've been starved of
sex for so long."
    Liz had felt uneasy. Jen had hit a sore spot,
but she had tried to respond graciously.
    "I dunno, Jen... is this really a good idea?
What if one bat-shit crazy wife finds out and tries to track you
down and kill you?"
    "Oh please. SilentMeet has everything you could
want out of a site like this. It automatically erases your messages
and photos after you've sent or received them, and if anyone tries
to log into your account with an incorrect password, it redirects
them to a news site." Jen rolled her eyes. "Anyone who gets caught
using this would be idiotic enough to deserve it."
    Liz raised her eyebrows and continued, "Jen,
you're single. You could join any of the hundreds of other dating
sites out there. Yet, you choose the one that attracts sleazy, old
men -"
    "I prefer to think of them as 'silver
foxes'."
    "Okay," Liz had said, amused. "Silver foxes,
then. Why go for the ones that are already tied down?"
    "Don't knock it 'till you try it, babe. These
men have already made up their minds, and they're on the prowl.
It's time to cash in on these opportunities."
    Jen had sipped her coffee and given Liz a sly
look.
    "And if I were you, I'd make an account ASAP. I
don't think Michael's gonna transform into a sex-crazed Adonis any
time soon, and you're not getting any younger."
    Liz groaned and covered her face.
    "You know I'm right," Jen smirked. "But you
keep on doing you. Ride 'em cowgirl."
    And with that, she had stood up with her coffee
and tossed the remnants of her salad, leaving Liz to glare at the
back of her ponytail as she flounced back to her desk.
    The cowgirl joke was getting old fast. Jen was
referring to Michael's lackluster moves in the bedroom. In her
mind, Liz had officially diagnosed her husband with Starfish
Syndrome. Always the same, robotic, cowgirl position that Liz
endured once a month, like a Brazilian wax. It sucked, but it had
to be done. Michael's libido served as a running gag for Jen; the
fact that he seemed to be content with sex once a month was
hilarious to Jen, and Liz humored her with stories.
    But her discontent ran far deeper. Eight long
years of feeling undesired had taken its toll on her self-esteem.
It led her to doubt that she would find someone who would oblige
her with even once-monthly sex. So she learned to do without,
despite Michael's inability to satisfy her physical desires. What
Jen didn't know was that Liz had recently discovered the reason
behind his abnormally low maintenance needs.
    After a series of sudden business trips that
took him away for weeks at a time, her suspicion had led her to his
desktop computer.