Free What Lucy Wants (Mosaic) by Kirsten S. Davis

 
     
     
    This is going to be a complete waste of time.
    Y et Lucy still stepped into the red underwear she’d bought with Alice that morning. A new place had opened at The Hub, and she simply had to give it the once over, even going as far as buying this sexy little number. Lacy yet tasteful, see-through yet subtle. Lucy had never been one for things like leather and suspenders. Crotchless? Please.
    No, this was more her style. Matching scarlet under wear with just enough transparency to show her wide nipples and recently shaven mound. John would be for a treat tonight.
    If she could lure him away from that goddamn computer.
    Alice thought she had problems. Her husband played rugby, and often she’d complain that he’d spent too long at the bar drinking it up with his teammates. A very drunken Jeremy would stagger home, all hands and throbbing cock.
    “I mean, I do love it in a way,” Alice had told her that morning over coffee. “The beer makes him so beastly , you know? I like to lie there and let him just…do me. The beer though. God, his breath stinks and it makes him snore all night.”
    Yes, Alice thought she had problem because her muscle-bound rugby player like to give it to her when he’d had a drink.
    Lucy studied her reflection in the mirror.
    “Try being married to John,” she muttered, adjusting the bra straps of her new purchase. She pulled on her dressing gown and tied the sash. For all his faults, John wasn’t stupid. She had to be sneaky with her plan of attack.
    She opened the door to their bedroom and poked out her head. From the living room, she heard the occasional tap of a key. Predictably, he hadn’t moved in the last hour.
    It had been exciting at first, being the wife of a published crime writer. John’s first novel, The Lockdown , was snatched up by a small press and following a little cult success, his follow up, a gritty urban thriller called Smack , had garnered a contract from Harper. The life of a successful writer isn’t all book release parties and movie deals, but it did allow some slack with the finances.
    More importantly, it made John happy. At ten years his junior, Lucy sometimes felt that gap was a gaping chasm. She was nearly thirty-five, and while well aware she wasn’t a teenager anymore Lucy refused to jump into middle age quite so soon. Alice gave her some of her youthful spirit back, always the more eager and adventurous of the two friends, but John? His success had put a spring back into his step, and for a few months, things had been like the early days. Both were happy, and the taste of fame had boosted John’s libido. Sundays would be spent in bed, fooling around until at least the afternoon. There was life in the old dog yet.
    Now Lucy just had to find it again.
    She walked through the bedroom and hallway and into the lounge.
    John had his desk and computer set up in there because he liked being close to the fire and enjoyed watching the news on the flat panel should any interesting, and inspiring, crime stories be reported.
    He sat at his desk chair, pondering the screen of words before him. A quick word change here. Delete a comma there. Writing appeared to be such a boring endeavour, like watching someone play computer chess.
    John didn’t even look up.
    “Can I get you anything?”
    “A coffee would be nice,” he said. “Goddamn! What’s wrong with me? I know where the story’s going and what my character is meant to be doing…but it just doesn’t gel. It’s…flat. No one’s going to want to read this, let alone b uy the rights.”
    Lucy slowly loosened the sash, not all the way so that he’d notice , but hopefully enough for it to naturally unravel. This had to catch him off-guard. She wanted to raise his dick, not his suspicions.
    How long has it been?
    Lucy walked over; long strides helping to open the gown. She lingered behind his chair and placed a hand on his shoulder. She caressed the firm muscle underneath. Her husband made the time