Day, Xondra - Our Dirty Little Secret (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

BOOK: Day, Xondra - Our Dirty Little Secret (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)
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Our Dirty Little Secret

Ann Hunter is a woman on the edge. She's just turned forty, and while her marriage to her handsome and attentive husband, Jeff, is stellar, she can't help but daydream about the new hunky next-door neighbor, Mike Monroe. Little does she know her husband is experiencing similar feelings but can't bring himself to let them be known, until a secret kiss forces him to face something he has hidden deep inside for years.

 

Mike never expected this turn of events when he moved into the neighborhood, yet all he can think about is Jeff, the man of his dreams. There is only one problem—Jeff is married.

 

When an opportunity comes up for an unplanned holiday weekend at the lake, all three are eager to partake. Things happen, secrets are revealed, and boundaries are broken as all three venture into unexplored, forbidden territory.

 

Note: This book contains double vaginal penetration.

 

Genre:
Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length:
28,115 words

OUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

Xondra Day

MENAGE AND MORE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Ménage and More

OUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

Copyright © 2011 by Xondra Day

E-book ISBN: 1-61034-749-8

First E-book Publication: September 2011

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

 

Dear Readers,

 

If you have purchased this copy of
 
Our Dirty Little Secret
 
by Xondra Day from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

 

 

Regarding E-book Piracy

 

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

 

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

 

This is Xondra Day’s livelihood.
 
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Day’s right to earn a living from her work.

 

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

This one is for my main support in life, my husband. Love you always.

I’d also like to take the time to thank my editors and everyone at Siren who make the publishing process a smooth one. It’s much appreciated.

Finally, I’d like to thank my readers. I hope you enjoy this story just as much as I did writing it.

—Xondra Day

OUR DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

XONDRA DAY

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Forty.
The number chimed through Ann Hunter

s mind over and over as her sister presented her with a triple-chocolate concoction covered in buttercream frosting, lit with forty candles, one for each year of her life.

She smiled, nodding to everyone, painting on her best happy face, and then blew out the candles.


Did you make a wish?

asked Jeff, her husband of eighteen years.


Of course, darling.

She smiled again, grabbed the knife closest to her, and started to cut the cake.


What was it?

He grinned, holding out a plate.

I want an end piece, with lots of frosting.


I can

t tell you. If I did, it wouldn

t come true. That

s the golden rule when it comes to birthday wishes.

She handed him a slice of cake, an end piece just like he requested.

Little did Jeff know that she wished for the party to be over. In fact, she wished it had never taken place. It wasn’t that she wasn

t grateful that he had gone ahead and planned the whole thing behind her back. She would have preferred to celebrate it with just the two of them instead of her whole family and a few chosen close friends. The last thing Ann had wanted was a big production made out of her fortieth birthday.

Her plans had included a quiet dinner and a movie at home. Then later a dip in their Jacuzzi, followed with some hot, passionate lovemaking.


Aunt Ann, I want a rose. That one right there,

said Jade, her niece, who had just turned eight the month before. Jade placed one small hand on her forearm to further snag her attention.


A rose and corner piece, just like your uncle Jeff.

She leaned down to the little girl.

It

s what I prefer, too.

She smiled, watching Jade scuttle away with her plate piled high with cake, topped with the all-important rose.


Isn

t she something?

Ann

s sister, Gwenn, now stood next to her with both hands planted firmly on her hips.

She

s growing up so fast. Just the other day she questioned me about where babies came from. Yes,

she explained, shaking her head.

I did mean to say questioned because that

s what it was like. I gave her the story and tried my best not to get all into the details, and she picked apart everything I had to say. At eight years old, I barely knew anything existed other than my dolls. I surely did n
o
t wonder where babies came from.


Don

t tell me you gave her the birds and the bees story like Mom gave us.

Ann smirked, remembering what she had been told as a young girl.

Or that babies actually were found in the forest, under tree stumps left by fairies.

Gwenn tossed back her head and laughed.

I had almost forgotten about that one. At least it was much more imaginative than the sex talk I got from her when I was sixteen. It wasn

t a talk, not really. She just tossed a bunch of pamphlets about teen pregnancy at me and asked me to read them in private.


Ones that she got from goodness knows where,

added Ann.

With me it was more like, if you let boys do certain things, you

ll end up like that girl that she knew who went away in a delicate condition and was never heard of again. Gwenn, I hope you managed to do better than that.

Gwenn shook her head.

Much. It scares me to think that in a few years she

ll most likely be able to tell me a thing or two. That scares the hell out of me.

She shuddered. “Kids today grow up way too fast.”

Ann glanced around the backyard until her eyes found her father off in the near distance.

I see Mom isn

t with Dad. She must love that he

s still smoking.

She waved to him. He waved back.


I wish he would give that up. You

d think with the

—Gwenn lowered her voice to a whisper—

cancer. It

ll kill him.

Ann dropped the knife on the table.

We all have bad habits. He

s terminal.

She knew Gwenn hated to hear the gritty details about their father

s disease.

If the man wants to smoke, let him. I doubt it’s going to harm him any more than it already has.

Gwenn picked up the knife and cut into another section of cake.

Anyone else?

she asked, offering up the buttercream goodness.

Her sister, the domestic diva. Where in Gwenn

s world, everything was perfect. She neglected to explain why her husband often worked late and why they often had to borrow money to pay their monthly bills, even though her husband pulled in a hefty salary. Some things and people defied explanation. Gwenn was one of them.


This is some party,

said her father as she approached him. He held up his scotch and soda to toast her. “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

As far back as she could remember, he always maintained a cool, pleasant demeanor. Never had she seen him get upset, not even the time when she ran off at age seventeen with Billy Wilder, only to be found a week later stowed away with him in some shit of a backwoods, no-tell motel.

He exhaled a puff of smoke, being mindful not to blow it in her direction.

Your mother retired for the evening with one of her headaches.

He raised one brow and grinned.


Which translates into that you must have done something to royally piss her off,

replied Ann, knowing her mother all too well.

Her mother liked to control everything and everyone around her. This was nothing new to either of them. The woman even tried to control her father

s disease, right down to how long he should live.


It started with a glass of champagne. She hates it when I drink. Then she got on me about smoking.

He glanced up at the gray sky.

Like it really matters at this point. I

m dying. You know it, I know it, and she knows it. Hell, everyone does.


She

s only concerned. It

s a lot for her to take in.

Devil

s advocate Ann wasn

t. But for once in her life, she could see things from her mother

s point of view, even if it was a little twisted.


The woman

s crazy.

He shook his head.

And I know what you

re going to say. She

d been like this all her life. You

re right. She

s always been nutty. I still love her anyway.


Mom

s different.


That

s a real pleasant way of putting it. Ann, you’ve always had a way with words.


It

s how I earn my living,

she replied.

You know, best seller and all.

Her last book had been on the
Times
list for a substantial amount of time.

I

m one of romance

s best.


So I

ve heard.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

Who would have thought that the little girl who once scribbled in her diary everyday would grow up to use it to her advantage? Ann, I

m proud of you, and glad that I lived to see you make it.

Ann felt a lump form in the back of her throat, and tears threatened to cloud her vision. She followed her father

s cue and looked up at the sky.

It

s going to rain.

A clap of thunder burst forth, rattling through the sky.

I best get everything and everyone inside before it starts.

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