Monday
Monday morning Scott tried to concentrate on his work but to no use. He felt more frustrated than ever. His new wife had continued dressing so sexy he could barely think straight, and he had spent the weekend fucking her in every position he could think of.
Still, he couldn't quite rid himself of the idea that she was thinking about another man while he touched her, and that she was only waiting for an opportunity to escape him. Even if she claimed not to have anyone else in her life, she often had a faraway look on her face, making him believe that she was thinking about something -- or someone -- in particular.
He feared it was another man, and he vowed to feed her sexual appetite and keep her satisfied; exhausting her so much that she wouldn't need anyone else but him. Unfortunately that meant exhausting himself in the process and he was still yawning, even after his third cup of coffee.
He walked over to the coffee machine to see if the fourth cup could make a difference. At the same time, he heard Carl laugh heartily behind his back.
"Tired?" Carl wondered. "Maybe you should give that new wife of yours some rest so you can both catch up on your sleep. She looks almost as tired as you do."
"Morning, Carl. I just need one more cup and then I'll be fine."
"I doubt that. Married life is good, then?"
"Never been happier," Scott said automatically.
"Hmm. Yes, I see that. Maybe you two should consider an extended honeymoon and leave the work to the alert ones?"
Scott just murmured something incoherently.
"By the way, I see that you've caused some major improvements on your wife's wardrobe. She looks great."
"I know," Scott sneered.
"I thought you'd be happy about it?"
"Do I look happy?"
"Jealous, eh? There's no need. She married you, remember?"
"Yes, but for how long?" Scott sighed.
Carl watched him carefully. He could probably see straight through him, Scott thought. His friend had a tendency to detect exactly what was troubling him.
"Why don't you join me in my office?" Carl offered as he led the way. "And don't forget your coffee," he laughed as Scott had already forgotten the coffee cup on the machine.
Inside Carl's office, Scott sank down into one of the leather chair and sipped the freshly brewed liquid. Carl sat down opposite to him with a small table between them.
"What's going on?"
"Not much."
"Not much? You've just gotten married in haste and now you're worried others are looking at your wife?"
"She's changed."
"Improved, is the word I would use. You don't get laid, is that it?"
"As often as I can manage."
"So, what's the problem?"
Scott sat quietly as he considered how much he should tell his best friend.
"I practically married her for money," he confessed.
"Her father's?"
"No, my own. My grandfather's will have a stipulation demanding that I wed before age thirty-five, which is next month. I asked her to help me."
"Blimey. And now she believes you tricked her?"
"I didn't have the time for a lengthy courtship. Besides, she agreed to help me when I told her the truth."
"And crushed the feelings she was harbouring for you in the process," Carl concluded quickly.
"Probably. I don't know. She was treating me like the dirt beneath her shoes until she realised she had an itch I could scratch."
"An itch? Oh, I see," Carl smiled broadly. "You've become a stud horse? No wonder you're so tired." He laughed heartily at his own words and the thunderous expression that was surely evident on Scott's face. "So, what now?"
"We have to convince grandfather's lawyer that it's a love match before I can receive my complete inheritance. After that, I suspect she will leave me."
"Leave you? But you seemed to hit it off quite well just a week ago. Why would she leave you?"
"I had to agree to her conditions before she married me. One of them allows her a divorce after one year of marriage."
"Then change her mind. I assume you want to keep her."
"Of course I do. I like her. That's why I married the woman."
"You like her? You don't say 'love'?"
"I don't know what I feel. It's more like a friendship with sex in it. I like being with her and talking to her, but I can easily do without."
"U hu," Carl replied solemnly. "So that's why you look ready to murder the randy young bucks whenever they look at her?"
"I don't do that."
"Believe me. You tower around her and make everyone nervous."
"The least she could do was to dress more moderate," Scott said through clenched teeth.
"You're a fucking moron, is what I say," Carl blurted out. "Or a sorry sod to be more specific."
"Huh?" Scott stared at him in disbelief.
"You love the woman to pieces and you won't even admit it to yourself."
Scott just scowled at his friend and business partner.
"Look, buddy. I've been married a lot longer than you have and it's quite obvious that you're far gone. The Scott I know is a workaholic that keeps his women a private matter. Ever since she started working here you've dogged her every step and seduced her whenever and however you could. Man, I even heard you take her in your own office, in broad daylight. You're definitely not acting like yourself, and this will of your grandfather is just the excuse you needed to attach her to you."
"It's still the truth."
"Even so, the bottom line is: The woman is your wife. If you want to keep her, you'd better work on it."
"What do you think I'm doing?"
