Authors: Candy Halliday
But if he gave Zada Simon and the house, then
he’d
have nowhere to go. Except to walk away from everything in his life that was important to him. Zada being at the top of the
list. And he wasn’t going to lie to himself about that any longer.
He loved her.
He had always loved her.
He would always love her.
If only there was some way to turn his
Survivor
idea into something that could bring them closer together instead of pushing them farther apart. A game of love, not war.
Now,
that
would be a fantasy worth having.
Fantasy.
Master.
Slave.
Holy shit! That’s it!
Zada insisted there was more to marriage than just great sex. But great sex sure added more to a marriage. The only problem
was, he had to make Zada think she was in control of the situation. That she really was his master, and he really was her
slave.
Rick sat up and looked across the bed.
Zada was buried somewhere beneath the covers.
“Are you asleep?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Zada whispered back.
“I’ve been thinking,” Rick said.
“That always
surprises
me,” Zada mumbled.
But she sat up in the bed and looked at him.
Rick said, “Sex has always been the main issue between us, Zada. Our attraction for each other got us into a spur-of-the-moment
marriage. And our last big fight was over you accusing me of always using sex to end any argument we were having.”
Zada said, “And your point is?”
Rick answered, “Don’t you think it’s only fair that sex should be the challenge we use to declare one of us the sole
Survivor?
”
Zada’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m stupid? We have sex, and that voids our separation agreement.”
“I didn’t say consummation,” Rick said quickly. “What I’m suggesting is everything
but
consummation. The first one to have an orgasm loses the game.”
“You’re certifiable,” Zada said. “The answer is no!”
She flopped back on the bed, ending the discussion.
Rick sighed and fell back on his pillow on the floor.
Zada looked at the clock.
12:45
AM
.
Her eyes closed.
Everything BUT consummation.
Rick really had flipped out. Who did he think he was all of a sudden, Bill freaking Clinton?
Maybe she should accept his challenge and teach him a lesson. It was common knowledge that all women craved foreplay. Hours
upon hours of foreplay, to be exact. And a woman could always hold out longer than a man. Especially a man who hadn’t had
sex in six months.
Zada looked at the clock.
12:50
AM
.
She closed her eyes.
Hours and hours of foreplay.
God, it was tempting. She hadn’t had sex in six months, either. She’d be a damn fool if she didn’t accept the challenge. Especially
since she had the upper hand.
Wait a minute.
Rick had to know she had the upper hand. Was he really that anxious to speed things along? That anxious to get on with his
life so he could find himself a new wife and have those kids he wanted?
Or, was his new plan only his way of saving face? He’d let her win, but he’d go out smiling with one last orgasm!
He wants one last orgasm?
I’ll give him one last orgasm!
Zada sat back up and switched on the light.
Rick’s head instantly popped up at the foot of the bed.
“Let me get this straight,” Zada said. “You’re proposing ninety days of foreplay as our ultimate challenge.”
Rick grinned. “Eighty-three days of foreplay, if you want to be technical about it.”
Zada said, “And the first one to have an orgasm loses the game?”
Rick nodded. “The first one to have an orgasm loses the game. We call our attorneys. We sign the property settlement. And
the divorce will be final.”
Zada said, “But if the loser has an orgasm, isn’t that technically consummation? And doesn’t that violate our separation agreement?”
“I’ll never tell,” Rick said. “Will you?”
Zada stared at Rick.
Rick stared back.
Zada decided to play along.
“I have to admit,” Zada said, “I doubt there’s a person on earth who wouldn’t agree that enduring eighty-three days of foreplay
without having an orgasm has to be the
ultimate
challenge known to man.”
Rick said, “Try the ultimate challenge known to any life-form in the universe.”
Zada kept staring at him.
Rick kept staring back.
Zada said, “And when do you suggest we start this challenge?”
There was that look in his eye again.
Rick grinned. “What’s wrong with now?”
Zada reached over and switched off the light.
Rick was in bed before she could turn back the covers.
“Game on,” Zada said when his hand ran up her leg.
“Teddy off,” Rick told her with just as much confidence.
F
ace hurriedly washed, teeth quickly brushed, and her body haphazardly dressed in the first pair of jeans and T-shirt she could
find, Zada stood barefoot in the kitchen the next morning. She was staring at Rick’s side of the pullout pantry in the kitchen
cabinet next to the refrigerator.
The “health food” side.
Soy breakfast bars.
Soy breakfast shakes.
Soy coffee variety pack.
Ewwwwww.
Soy coffee?
How disgusting!
But Rick obviously didn’t think so, and Rick was in a hurry.
The four long hours of delicious foreplay the night before had left them both exhausted. So exhausted, Rick had overslept
this morning—probably for the first time in his life. Now, he was an hour late getting to the center—another first in his
life, she was sure.
The least she could do, Zada decided, was make him a cup of coffee to help choke down one of the disgusting soy bars he ate
for breakfast every morning.
And no, they definitely weren’t back together.
And no, neither of them had any intention of calling off the divorce.
But it was pretty hard to switch back to combat mode after you’d teased, stroked, and licked every inch of someone’s body
the night before. Besides, what was the harm in being civil to each other until Rick finally gave in and orgasmed himself
into a coma?
Poor baby, he doesn’t have a chance.
One more night, and I’ll be the sole survivor.
Zada frowned at the word “sole.”
Sole.
As in “single.”
As in “all by myself for the rest of my life.”
She quickly pushed that thought aside, reached out, and picked the coffee variety pack package up by the corner, as if it
were contaminated. After a quick apology to her beloved Mr. Coffee coffeemaker for filling him with anything but one-hundred-percent
caffeine—as God surely intended—Zada dumped the contents of one of the premeasured packets into the filter. She ran some water
into the pot and dumped it into the canister. Then flipped the switch to “on.”
By the time Rick made it into the kitchen a few minutes later, Zada had a cup of steaming hot soy (
yuck
) coffee waiting for him on the kitchen counter beside his nutritious soy (
gag
) breakfast bar.
Zada handed him the cup and the breakfast bar.
Rick looked suspiciously at the cup.
“Don’t worry,” Zada said. “It’s a selection from your own
soy
coffee variety pack.”
Rick grinned. “You made coffee for me?”
“Don’t read anything into it,” Zada told him. “I’m just trying to get you out the door so I can sleep all day.”
“You are a truly evil woman,” Rick told her.
“And pretty apt to stay that way,” Zada assured him.
“Game back on tonight,” Rick reminded her with a grin.
He headed out the door, breakfast bar and coffee cup in hand.
“Don’t worry about me,” Zada yelled after him. “I have all day to sleep and rest up for tonight.”
But she couldn’t keep from smiling after Rick left. And who wouldn’t be smiling after the incredible experience they’d shared
the night before? Taking time to explore each other’s bodies. For once, pushing all their differences aside. Focusing on nothing
but each other.
Too bad we’re only playing a game.
Zada pushed that thought aside, too, as she took a coffee cup down from the kitchen cabinet for her morning walk across the
street to have coffee with Jen and Tish. That is, she took a cup down
before
she remembered the mean trick she’d played on poor Mr. Coffee.
She stared at the coffeemaker for a moment, then timidly took the pot from the burner. She held the pot up to her nose for
a quick sniff.
Hmmm.
The aroma isn’t bad.
Zada filled her cup and bravely took a sip.
Surprisingly, the taste wasn’t bad.
She reached for the empty packet on the counter, curious to see exactly which flavor she’d randomly selected from Rick’s handy
dandy soy coffee variety pack.
Zada laughed out loud when she turned the packet over.
AROUSE ME MOCHA
was stamped across the front.
Alicia watched Zada walk across the street from her upstairs bedroom window. The same way she’d watched Jen and her daughter
walk across the street to Tish’s house earlier.
The regular morning coffee and gossip session.
With me as their main topic of gossip this morning.
Alicia was sure of it, but she wasn’t going to worry about that. She had her invitation to the meeting tonight. And she was
going to that meeting, come hell or high water.
She didn’t even care if Jen and Tish did snub her because she had basically blackmailed Zada into inviting her. Forget them.
She’d tried to be a good neighbor, and where had it gotten her?
In fact, she was tempted to tell all three of them exactly what she thought when she did arrive for the meeting. Tell them
how rude they were. Remind them other people had feelings, too. Ask them how any one of them would feel if they were the one
living in the cul-de-sac, constantly being ignored by their neighbors day in and day out.
Better yet, maybe she really should turn into the neighbor straight from hell and teach them all a lesson.
Maybe she’d pitch a fit the next time the twins pulled up every tulip in her flower bed to make a bouquet for their mother,
instead of being nice the way she had been last spring. This time, she wouldn’t tell Tish not to worry about it. Instead of
refusing to accept any money for the replacement of the bulbs, she’d hand Tish the sizable bill from the lawn service that
repaired all the damage.
When Jen and her daughter showed up on her doorstep selling Girl Scout cookies again, or any other promotional fund-raising
item they were always selling for the freaking PTA, she wouldn’t whip out her checkbook the way she usually did and buy a
ton of stuff she didn’t even want. Instead, she’d send them back across the street empty-handed. Let Jen see what it was like
not to have the support of a neighbor.
And as for Zada, maybe she wouldn’t back off where Rick was concerned at all. Even if Rick wasn’t interested, she could certainly
make Zada’s life miserable. Wonder how Zada would like that woman-to-woman lesson in karma!
Alicia sighed and walked away from the window.
But first, I’ll see how they treat me tonight.
Whether Zada realized it or not, having another divorcée join their circle could actually work out to Zada’s benefit. Jen
and Tish had kids and husbands. She and Zada would have a lot in common once Zada got her divorce. If Zada would only give
her a chance, they might even end up becoming good friends.
Good friends.
Something she’d never had.
Something she’d always wanted.
Funny, Alicia decided, that you never think about peer pressure carrying over into your adult life, but it does.
You feel slighted if the boss favors someone else.
Ostracized, if your neighbors avoid you.
Rejected, if date one doesn’t lead to date two.
Invisible, if everyone ignores you at a party.
Well, they can’t very well ignore me tonight!
Alicia smiled.
Tonight, she intended to show them exactly with whom they were dealing!
“Eighty-three days of foreplay,” Tish said, a faraway look in her eyes.
Jen said, “Would you please stop repeating that over and over? It’s becoming a chant.”
Tish said, “I’m just trying to imagine being lucky enough to win that kind of multi-mega bedroom lottery. Eighty-three days
of foreplay definitely gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘Powerball.’”
Zada burst out laughing.
Jen rolled her eyes.
Jen looked back at Zada and said, “I hate to point this out, but you know, of course, that you’re possibly setting yourself
up for serious heartbreak here.”
“Maybe,” Zada said. “But foreplay sure beats making messes and cleaning them up.”
Jen’s lips pressed into a thin line.
The lip thing?
Jen’s trademark for being pissed.
She said, “This is serious, Zada.”
Zada sighed. “I know this is serious, Jen. And I know what Rick and I are doing is completely bizarre. But maybe one last
big hoorah is the only way Rick and I ever will have any closure.”
“And that’s what you really want?” Jen asked. “Just one last big hoorah?”
“I don’t know what I want, Jen,” Zada admitted. “And I don’t think Rick knows what he wants, either. But as long as we play
the game, that gives us a little more time to figure things out.”
“Eighty-three days of foreplay,” staring-off-into-space Tish said again.
Zada laughed. “If it makes you feel any better, Tish, as wickedly delicious as it sounds, it’s sheer torture at the same time.”
Tish sighed. “There’s a very thin line between pain and pleasure.”