Still Into You. Roni Loren

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      Still Into You

      Roni Loren

       To my grandmother, Barbara, the first of the sassy women in our family.

      I miss your laugh and your lemon meringue pie.

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

       Special Excerpt from Need You Tonight

       About the Author

       Also by Roni Loren

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      They’d chosen Letterman.

      Seth shook his head, staring at their unmade bed. For the last few years of their marriage, he and Leila had a standing habit of making love on Wednesday nights. Not that it was a stated appointment or anything. But it was the only night he didn’t work late at the restaurant, so it had become their habit. A nice, enjoyable romp between two people who knew each other’s pleasure points as well as their own. Simple and to the point.

      But last night, even though the kids were already asleep and Leila had been well-rested from a day off, she hadn’t reached for him.

      And worse than that … he hadn’t reached for her either.

      They’d chosen to watch David Letterman instead of having sex. Top Ten lists and dancing animals had been more interesting to them than each other.

      With a heavy sigh, he stepped out of his cargo shorts and pulled on his work slacks. He’d wanted to bring it up with her this afternoon when he’d found her doing the dishes and staring out the window like she’d rather be anywhere but there. They needed to deal with whatever was going on—or not going on between them. But then Myra, their seven-year-old, had bounced into the kitchen asking him to check her spelling homework, and the moment had been lost.

      But now the unspoken words sat heavy on his chest. Through the ups and downs of their eight years of marriage, he and Leila had been through rough times. Being unexpected parents while they were still in college had almost killed their marriage before it got started. But never before had he felt this yawning space between them. He’d thought it was because he’d been so busy with the restaurant lately. But even when they had time, like last night, they’d only sat in companionable silence, occasionally chatting about something one of the kids did that day. Comfortable but just … there.

      He searched though his drawer looking for his general manager name tag, then remembered he’d taken it off in the bathroom. He headed to the closed bathroom door and eased it open, a cloud of steam hitting him as he entered. He started to call out to Leila to warn her he was in there. But the low moan that came from the other side of the shower curtain halted the words in his throat. He froze.

      The distinct sound of soap slicking over skin mixed in with the patter of the shower water. Then a throaty “yes” whispered through the humid air. His body snapped to attention even though Leila getting herself off right now had implications that were anything but sexy.

      He’d told her he was just running out for a few minutes to drop the kids off at his parents’ house. She knew he was going to be right back. Available. At least for a few minutes before both of them left for work.

      But she’d chosen her hand instead of her husband.

      She groaned again, and he tried to recall the last time he’d heard her sound that into it when she was with him. Who was she imagining on the other side of those touches? Clearly it wasn’t him because she could’ve had the real thing had she been willing to wait a few minutes. Maybe he was no longer as interesting as a fantasy.

      She cried out softly, and he could picture her head tilted back against the tile wall, fingers buried inside herself, her orgasm pulsing through her as the water streamed over the heavy swells of her breasts. No doubt a beautiful sight. One he could stroke off to just imagining, but one that didn’t include him.

      His cock pushed against the fly of his pants even as hurt coursed through him. On one hand, he was happy to know Leila’s sex drive was still there, because there had been times when he’d wondered if their lovemaking was simply an obligation she thought she needed to fulfill. But knowing that she’d chosen to get herself off instead of reaching for him stung deep.

      He wasn’t satisfying his wife.

      And if he was truly honest with himself, he hadn’t been satisfied for a long time either. Sex had turned into another item on their to-do list. He loved her with a depth he couldn’t describe, but the fire that used to sizzle between them was now a pile of dim embers.

      The water cut off, and he took a vaulting step backward, shutting the door behind him as quickly and as quietly as he could. He hurried over to the side of the bed and busied himself making it. Leila stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later in a swirl of coconut-soap-scented air.

      “Oh, hey,” she said, her voice holding a hint of stiffness but the glow of her skin betraying the remnants of her orgasm. “I didn’t realize you’d made it back already.”

      He wanted to go to her, drag her against him, and show her how much more he could offer than some quick work in the shower, but the distracted look in her eye kept him at bay. He didn’t think he could handle her pushing him away. “I just got back.”

      She

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