“I think it’s definitely doable,” she had replied, in the same businesslike tone he had used. “I do want to specify some requirements, though.”
“Name them.” Douglas had made a ‘go on’ gesture.
“Monogamy is important to me,” Alli told him. “I’m fine with a limited relationship, but if you have sex, it had better be with me and me only. Cheating is a deal breaker.”
“Understood and agreed.” Douglas had nodded at once. In truth, Alli didn’t think it would be very hard for him to comply with her demand for monogamy. Douglas just wasn’t that interested in sex. Still, it had to be said.
“Good.” She nodded. “Then I would be happy to be your wife, Douglas.”
There was no shouting or crying or excitement in their agreement and Douglas didn’t take her to an expensive restaurant or get down on one knee. It was “a sound business decision, not a publicity stunt” as he put it. Once they were legally married, they could file their taxes “Married filing Jointly” and get a much better deal than with the two of them filing separately.
Douglas didn’t even give her a ring—not at that moment, anyway. Though a few months afterwards he had presented her with a perfectly respectable, ultra-traditional diamond ring which he dutifully slipped onto her finger.
“Now we’re official,” he told her. And so they were.
“I’m home!” Alli called again, looking around the living area. “Douglas?”
She wandered into the spare bedroom, which had been converted to a two-person office with a desk at either side. Her fiancé was sitting there, tapping away industriously at his computer with an open Sam Adams on a coaster at his side. When he saw her, he got up and gave her a perfunctory peck on the cheek.
“Hello, Darling. Welcome home.”
“Hello.” Alli smiled and kissed him back—a peck on the lips. Douglas’s mouth was thin and dry—there wasn’t much to kiss. “How was your week?” she asked, settling on the edge of his desk and making sure her skirt was pulled up enough to show her legs. Douglas liked her legs and it had been a while since they’d made love. Maybe it was the crazy dreams she’d been having but Alli was beginning to feel rather…needy.
But her fiancé seemed oblivious to her hint.
“Pretty well,” he said. “Of course, we had some trouble with the Johnson account but then…”
He launched into an incredibly dry tale of tax-related problems that had Alli’s eyelids almost closing. She struggled not to yawn and did her best to nod at the important parts. But the truth was, after nights of broken rest from the awful dreams, Douglas was putting her to sleep.
“Sweetheart,” she said, when there was a momentary lull in the conversation, “I haven’t seen you all week. How about coming to bed early tonight? You know, for a conjugal visit?”
“Oh!” Douglas’s thin brows shot up. Finally he was getting the hint. “For a ‘conjugal visit’ you say?” he asked, grinning at her.
“Exactly.” Alli smiled back.
It was a little joke between them. When she’d first taken the job with the Kindred which required her to live most of the week on the Mother Ship, Douglas had joked that he would be like a prisoner, starving for physical attention from his girlfriend. This had led Alli to promise she would be back every weekend for a “conjugal visit” and so their current euphemism for sex had been established.
Alli was glad they’d found a way to talk about it. Neither she nor Douglas was all that comfortable talking about sex right out in the open, but she tended to want it a lot more than her fiancé did, and this was a good way to ask for it. Even though she knew it wouldn’t last very long, it was still better than nothing.
She took a quick shower while Douglas got ready—which usually meant he stripped down to his tighty-whities. Alli had tried to get her fiancé to wear boxer shorts or at least boxer briefs, but he preferred his plain white Fruit of the Looms and no amount of begging and pleading on her part would change that.
So when she came out of the bathroom in a silky nightshirt cut low in the front and high at the hem, her fiancé was waiting for her, wearing sagging white briefs and black business socks. The socks were another thing Alli had tried to get him to change, but Douglas claimed that he couldn’t make love with cold feet—so they stayed.
Trying not to notice that her fiancé looked slightly ridiculous, Alli smiled seductively as she held out her arms to him.
“Mmm, I’ve missed you,” she told Douglas, giving him her most alluring “come hither” bedroom eyes.
Douglas smiled back—then frowned as he took her in.
“Darling, have you gained weight?” he asked, frowning at the way the silky nightshirt clung to her hips and ass.