Don’t You Dare by Jessica Hamilton

Don’t You Dare by Jessica Hamilton

Author:Jessica Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books


NOVEMBER 23, 2018

You’d think Evan’s threats about taking the girls if we got divorced would scare me away from Thomas, but it does exactly the opposite. I need him more than ever. Evan makes me feel powerless, as though I have no real definition without him or the girls or this house. Thomas makes me feel powerful, as though anything is possible, and with him I’m the person I was before I started sacrificing bits of myself for the approval of others.

As soon as everyone is out of the house this morning, I text him. Today? Hotel?

He responds almost immediately. Yes. Will cancel meeting. 12pm.

This time I make sure I have an alibi and go grocery shopping, placing things in the cart without thought. Moving up and down the aisle at a slow, calculated pace, killing time. The eighties pop playlist that leaks through the speakers of the store works like torture, the Chinese water kind—Whitney Houston wanting to dance with somebody. My body is wound tight with the anticipation of seeing Thomas, every bit of skin more sensitive. Even bending down to reach a jar of pickles feels sensual.

Standing in the checkout line, I survey the other customers. The woman with a newborn in the car seat, who looks down every few seconds to make sure her baby is still there, alive, and asleep—I’ve been her. The woman with the toddler climbing up the side of the cart, his mother extracting him from it before he climbs right in—I’ve been her too. The man staring into space, beaten down by the tedium of his day-to-day tasks—I’ve been him. I wonder if any of them have secrets like mine, if their grocery shopping is a guise for something more illicit.

At the Somersby, before heading to the elevator, I do a very quick scan of the lobby. The last thing I need is Libby jumping out from behind some potted plant to catch me in the act again. Alone in the elevator, I reach into my new black lacy bra, which I purchased last minute in the clothing section of the grocery store and slipped on in the car, and lift each breast higher. It’s official, I think to myself. There’s no more denying it—I’m having a full-blown affair. I’ve bought lingerie and am rendezvousing in a hotel in the middle of the day.

The elevator reaches the twelfth floor, and the doors slide open. There’s a brief tug of conscience, a bolt of fear, a split second of paralysis, before I step out into the hall, letting my desire lead me, leaving all good sense to travel back down to the lobby.

Thomas opens the door with only a towel around his waist, still damp from a shower, and I wonder if this whole thing could get any more clichéd. Not that I don’t appreciate seeing so much of his skin, or smelling the sweet muskiness of his soap, or the ability to pull his towel free and have exactly what I want.



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