By Daydreams is my debut novella, sparked from a dream that launched my writing career in a very steamy way. Following the story of Emily Gamble, this novella has grown into a 3-part series.
Burdened by a failing investment property, Emily and Daniel find themselves on a one-way road to divorce. Frustrated by her lack of appreciation, and overly spontaneous decisions, Daniel is at his wits end, choosing to focus on his career rather than fixing his home life. As the daughter of a successful hotelier, Emily isn’t used to struggle, but her stubborn ways won’t get her far in the battle of love. Emboldened by desire, she tries her hand at saving her marriage, but will it be enough to rescue their crumbling union?
Daniel is used to being in control, so she knows this could go either way. What neither of them ever guessed is how small their current problems would be in the grand scheme of their lives. Read on, for a seductive and erotic tale of two worlds that collide in one unpredictable turn after the next. The first book in the Daydreams saga is an erotic page turner that will leave you wanting more.
Without further delay, read on for a snippet of my debut novella: Daydreams.
Chapter 1
“When the fuck will it be finished?!” His voice was beyond intimidating, bordering frightening. He sounded enraged, betrayed even.
“Whoa! Boss, we’re doing the best we can, working as fast as possible. They sent the wrong marble, and now we’re making the changes Mrs. Gamble requested,” José said, holding his hands up while quickly glancing in my direction with a sincere apology in his eyes. He’d thrown me under the bus, and it was obvious Daniel was unpleased. He may have been the boss, but the wife always seemed to control the decisions.
I looked away, afraid to face his deathly glare. Instead, I focused on the hazardous mess we were standing in. What started two years ago as a quick real estate flip had become a complete disaster, and money pit, with no end in sight.
The building was stunning. The first time I saw it, I had to have it. I can still remember my excitement as I called Daniel over to see it. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned warehouse, but the interior was impeccable. Every level housed a complete wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, taking full advantage of its hillside location. That was all the levels shared, though. Each floor was so different from the next, I chose to name them individually, in typical Emily fashion. My friends called me a hopeless romantic, always forcing things to fit my whimsical ideas.
The plan was to turn each floor into an independent loft style condo, making it the premiere building in the downtown LA real estate market. The lowest two levels contained a sixteen-car garage, giving each unit more than enough space for cars and storage, with the top four floors reserved as living spaces. Every night, I dreamed the final designs for these condos, never doubting their potential or compromising my vision.
I named the first loft Margaret, or Maggie for short. She was the smallest of all four units with a dainty feel about her. Everything was white and shiny, very plain Jane, I thought. I remember telling Daniel that Margaret was the kind of lady that didn’t say a word during sex, and did whatever her man told her to. Even more vividly, I remember the smirk Daniel wore once I said it, as he looked towards the back of the loft, assuming I couldn’t see his face.
Most vividly, I remember the ball of anxiety churning in my stomach, wondering if that was the kind of wife he wished he had. A blank canvas, ready to do any and everything he wanted. I was no Margaret, and our marriage was not filled with me taking orders or doing what I was told, in or out of the bedroom.
I don’t know if either of us expected that in the beginning. I was the princess of every relationship in my life, and Daniel decided to follow suit while courting me. We’d wed in a fairy tale wedding 4-years prior, although he’d wanted a simpler celebration. He even suggested the courthouse once, which he pretended was a joke after seeing the look of disgust on my face. He was changing his mind and behavior to fit my vision, but I didn’t stop him. I encouraged it. I was training him.
The higher you went in the lofts, the more luxurious they became. Hence, the lowest level getting such an ordinary name like Margaret. Bella was the second unit, named for her Parisian inspired finishes and French charm. Next up was Gia, which was simply the name that popped in my mind when I thought of a sexy, younger woman. Gia was filled with chrome finishes; she was the bombshell that played poker and didn’t call AAA when her car broke down. Gia was fucking hot, and the loft was perfect for a bachelor, or a woman who oozed sex and watched sports.
We were standing in Giovanna, the penthouse, named for glamour that bordered gaudy. Giovanna had more marble than any other surface, and she was the main selling point when I first toured the property.
What we didn’t know the day we impulsively made an offer, after I refused to slow down and think about it, was that the area had not been zoned for residential units. The previous owner had lost so much money on permits, it was on the market as a sign of defeat. It took us over a year, and 7-figures, to grease the right hands to finally get the correct zoning for individual sale. Even after that, we still had small renovations; because of course I wasn’t satisfied with the units as they were.
I watched Daniel grit his teeth during the first day of demolition, and thought how good of a job I’d done training him when he didn’t say a word about my ruining perfectly good bathrooms and kitchens on two levels, simply because I envisioned them on the other end of the condos. A year later, after investing every dollar we could save or borrow for the condos, we were now in the final stage of picking finishes. Although, we were balancing this project with the greatest challenge we’d ever taken on – a divorce.
I’d like to say the stress of the real estate project ruined our marriage, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. Daniel never wanted the princess. He just wanted to marry Emily, but I wasn’t willing to submit. I wouldn’t let him lead. So, I manipulated my way to the head of the table with tantrums and puppy eyes. I knew he would give me anything I wanted and completely took advantage of his desire to see me happy.
Daniel would never hurt me, which was more weakness than strength when dealing with a woman like me. He was the type to ask if I was okay during missionary sex, while cradling my head and proclaiming his love in my ear. I was the type to roll my eyes and stare at the ceiling, waiting for him to come.
“Do what I tell you, and stop listening to her! She’s not the fucking boss!” Daniel’s outburst snapped me back to reality.
For everything he wasn’t, Daniel was sexy as hell. I could see his muscles flexing through the perfectly tailored suit, his back tense while he barked orders at the crew. They all stared at him with fear in their eyes. Surely, they’d never seen him so upset.
At 6’ 4”, he towered over everyone in the room. The five o’clock shadow covering his flawless skin only accentuated his jawbone, as he desperately tried to contain his rage. He’d only gotten into this project to please his spoiled wife, who he now couldn’t stand. Only, his current and future financial health depended on its completion, which I continued to delay without so much as consulting him. Yeah, he was pissed.
Watching him remove his suit jacket, I couldn’t focus on how mad he was, or how much I deserved it. All I could see was his perfectly chiseled frame, the outline of his six-pack engrained in my memory. We’d been at odds for so long that I hadn’t seen his bare chest in over a month. Before that, it was only during peeks of him exercising in our glassed-in gym. I’d gone without his touch for 6-months, since our last pity fuck for my birthday. It was miserable, and afterwards, I think we both silently agreed that whatever we’d had was gone.
Two weeks later, I filed for divorce and he didn’t so much as text me once he received the papers. Now, we were only communicating about the divorce through lawyers, living separate lives in the same home. These meetings at the construction site were the only time we were purposely in the same room. The tension was always so thick I pitied the staff, who constantly felt the wrath of both of us.
Today, I only pitied myself. I used to be able to calm him with nothing more than my body. Now, I watched as a spectator as he growled and pointed, desire pooling between my legs with no release in sight. Suddenly, his face contorted into a deep frown as he turned toward me, dropping his jacket and storming in my direction. In the ten-seconds it took him to reach me, I prayed he would pick me up and fuck me right there. I didn’t care if everyone saw it. I didn’t care about the divorce being called off; I just wanted him inside me.
“Why the – Why did you tell José to postpone painting the garage units?!” Daniel growled, his teeth clenched so tightly, his temples protruded just below his hairline. He was pissed, but he still refused to curse at me, even after lashing out at every worker within earshot. “Em?! Answer me!” He interrupted my gaze.
Fuck this.
Chapter 2
I grabbed his wrist, because we were hand holders when we were happy. And this wasn’t that. Shockingly, that was what I missed most when we first began living separate lives. Daniel was no longer the newlywed who used to look at me with googly eyes, and I wasn’t the princess wife he’d never raise his voice at.
I yanked him to the elevator before I knew what I was doing. The element of surprise must have caught him off guard, because he followed willingly. He probably assumed I was leading him to an explanation, justifying my decision to further delay the completion of the project. He was wrong.
All the staff was working in Giovanna, so the elevator opened immediately after I pushed the call button. It had been idly waiting since carrying the two of us in silence just 30-minutes prior. I knew the rest of the building was empty, so I chose the third floor, hitting the button much harder than I intended.
“What are you doing?” Daniel glared down at me wearing a frown laced with disgust. He spat the words.
I felt naked; as if he knew my desires and was repulsed by the idea I would even think he wanted me. I slapped him hard across the right side of his face, just as the elevator dinged, the mirrored doors opening to Gia.
The loft was still dimly lit from our earlier check-up. I stormed towards the chrome kitchen island, no longer needing hold of his wrist. My slap would ensure he’d be on my heels. I pulled the string of my black wrap dress, effectively undressing myself with one quick motion, as Daniel turned me around by gripping my elbow.
Confusion covered his face as he slowly looked over my body. I’d always been a lingerie fanatic, but Daniel never seemed to care, claiming he’d make love to me in cotton panties because I was so beautiful. Today, there wasn’t a thread of cotton touching my body. Since filing for divorce, I spent more time picking out lingerie than my clothing. It was the only thing that kept my confidence intact.
I wore a black lace La Perla body suit, with halters connecting to the top of my thigh highs. Lingerie had become my armor, a dismal substitution for the partner who protected me from everything, until our life fell apart. Daniel appeared more embarrassed than seduced. I was seconds away from breaking down in one of my notorious tantrums. Without taking his eyes off my bodysuit, or softening his frown, Daniel’s full lips moved and I quickly interrupted the inevitable rejection.
“I’mwho you’re mad at! Stop taking it out on everyone else! You needto fuck me, and it’s driving you crazy!” A smug smile curled my lips as my manicured nail poked his chest, forcing my armor to embody the confidence I lacked. I was lying, well partially.
Danielwasmad at me, but it was me who needed him. I yearned to feel him and the power that accompanied seduction. I turned away, dropping my wrap dress on the way to the kitchen island. I wasn’t shocked when I didn’t hear him follow. I couldn’t look back, unable to watch the confusion morph into frustration, or even worse, annoyance. Instead, I marched to the island alone, bending over the chrome countertop.
My right cheek rested on the cold chrome as I desperately fought to slow my breathing, straining to hear any movement from Daniel. So far, he hadn’t made a sound. I listened closely, sure he’d storm off to the elevators, or mumble about me being a drama queen.
Finally, I closed my eyes and surrendered to what I knew would be a humiliating experience. Daniel wasn’t going to fuck me with a construction crew working on the floor above us. He didn’t want that. He was probably wondering what the hell I’d been into the last 6-months. Why would I think he would do something so disrespectful to his wife, even if I were soon to be his ex?
Then I heard his tousled breath, and the pull of some type of fabric, followed by his commanding footsteps.
Oh, my God.
Chapter 3
My heart sank further into my stomach with each step, until he reached the kitchen island. I closed my eyes and swallowed slowly, knowing he was standing behind me, looking over my lace covered body, no doubt with pity.
Everything moved in slow motion. I felt his hand yank my hair as he bent over me, pushing his erection onto the lace covering my ass to whisper in my ear through clenched teeth, “I don’t want to hear you make a fucking sound.”
I inhaled sharply. Daniel cursed at me. And he was hard, rock hard. His arousal pressed firmly against my lace lingerie, causing a painful surge of desire between my legs.
“Do you hear me?” He was eerily calm. I had never been nervous before sex in my life, but now I could barely speak. Feeling his warm words along my ear, I knew he was waiting for my response as his body folded over mine.
“Yes.” It was more of a breath than a word, but it must have sufficed.
He released my hair and destroyed the lace between my thighs with his strong hands. I wanted to protest, as I would have in the past. It was a $700 bodysuit, but words failed me when I heard his zipper unfasten.
I reached for the inch lip on each side of the island, preparing myself, when I felt his fingers at my opening. Daniel didn’t typically use fingers during sex, but this wasn’t the husband I knew standing behind me. And I was slicker than I’d ever been, causing him to take a sharp breath when he felt my arousal, most likely thinking his wife didn’t get that wet. But this wasn’t the Emily he knew bent over the kitchen island.
I heard a kissing, or sucking sound, but didn’t feel anything. The realization that he’d licked my juices from his fingers stirred me even further. Then he dug his thumbs into each side of my lower back, his fingers lifting my hips to meet his pelvis before slamming his manhood into me with one swift movement.
I gasped loudly, feeling the wind knocked out of me. Daniel didn’t have a fun sized dick you could ram without warning. He had the kind of length that needed to be inched in slowly. Lifting my hips, he stretched me deliciously, forcing me to take every inch of him. Tilting his body to the left, he looked to me with a stern warning.
“Aye!?” Was all he said, and I knew it was because of my escaped gasp. I nodded my head on the now warm chrome, gripping the sides of the island for dear life.
He straightened his body and slid out of me, leaving just the tip inside to tease me. I closed my eyes and listened to my breath quicken, waiting for him to sink back into my warmth.
He surged his pelvis forward while pulling my hips to meet him, and began to move quickly in an abrasive rhythm. I scrunched my eyes closed, clenching my teeth, determined to stay silent as the painful pleasure became too much to bear. Daniel pummeled me with his manhood. I was so aroused, he slid into me with ease, lifting my hips until my feet no longer touched the ground.
Old Emily would have contested. I needed some leverage. I couldn’t even push back to meet him. I was helpless, powerless, lost in sensation. Instead, I held on to the island, contorting my face to stop from screaming his name as my orgasm built inside me. The urge to pee came strong and swift, and I knew I was going to explode. Thinking of how loudly I usually climaxed worried me, so I fought to hold my orgasm at bay, intensifying the pleasure.
Daniel kept pounding, groaning in ways I’d never heard him, weakening my fight to remain silent. When I heard him mutter, “Oh my God”, I lost it.
Without words or leverage, as my feet dangled in the air, my orgasm reached new levels. Pulling my breasts to the chrome island, I felt my body vibrate in a way it never had. Juices dripped down my leg as I descended from an orgasmic high. Daniel cursed behind me, his rhythm slowed before he rammed into me one last time, his body jerking as mine had just moments earlier.
I felt him spasm as he came and came again inside me, groaning loudly. I opened my eyes to see my breath fogging the counter I’d purposely had built at waist height, which was ideal for cooking. I thought to myself, this is also the perfect height for spontaneous sex in the kitchen.
Daniel leaned his body over mine and whispered in my ear, “Who said you could come?”
I was speechless. Before I could turn to look at him, he gently kissed my ear. Glancing back, I watched him dig into his back pocket before kneeling. Wiping my leg up to my sweet spot, he gently dabbed my swollen lips, obviously aware of how sensitive I was after his rampage.
He stood as he finished, holding my wrap dress before lifting me off the kitchen island by my waist. Keeping my back to him, he held out my dress, and I slipped each arm into the sleeves before wrapping the belt and tying a bow at my left hip. I pulled my hair to the front, trying to feel if it was completely disheveled as I looked over my shoulder to Daniel.
“After you,” was all he said, nodding towards the exit. Without second guessing, I walked to the elevator, which again opened immediately after I pushed the call button, as it had obediently waited for me to get fucked in the kitchen of Gia.
Daniel pushed the button for the garage, and I looked over to my left, reminding him of the workers waiting for our direction, “They’re still up in Giovanna.”
He casually nodded once, and then looked up to watch the numbers decline as we descended into the garage. At some point during our time in Gia he had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top two buttons. Now, he pulled the tie off completely, stuffing it into his back pocket without so much as glancing in my direction.
The doors opened and I felt his right hand on my shoulder before I could take a step. His fingers glided across the sweat sheen coating my skin before wrapping around my neck. Not tight enough to scare me, but enough that I knew not to step forward. He tilted his head down and coldly ordered, “Go to the house.”
I began to turn towards him, when his grip tightened. Keeping my gaze forward, I attempted to tell him about my dinner date with my sister Victoria, before he interrupted me.
“Go to the house.”
This time he was even more stern and cold. His grip loosened when I stepped forward, and once I exited the elevator he released me altogether.
Was he going to follow me home? Did he want me again? Was he going to confront me about what I’d just instigated and what that meant for our marriage?
I turned to him, unsure of which question to ask first, when I noticed he wasn’t beside me. Spinning around, I caught the slightest smirk on his face as the elevator doors closed, with him inside it.
What the fuck?
Chapter 4
I felt my eyes filling with tears as the elevator climbed to the top floor, my vision blurring as each number lit up. When the first tear dropped, I questioned why I was even crying. Was it simply the after-shock of an earth-shattering orgasm? Or did I feel cheap because he’d left me?
Daniel never behaved like that. He hadn’t even checked to see if I was okay, or asked how it made me feel. Hell, he didn’t even let me speak during the sex!
My big brother Elliot once told me that guys treated girls one of two ways – they either placed them on a pedestal or bent them over it. The literal interpretation was not lost on me. I felt debased. Devalued. Even worse, I wanted more of it. I knew I would go to our house, which had recently become a space for us to share as roommates, and pray that Daniel came home to dominate me like that again.
After staring at the elevator for two minutes, watching the illuminated light reveal its location in the penthouse, I was confident Daniel had gone back to work. I walked to my white G-Wagon and hopped in before texting Victoria.
Got fucked over at the construction site. Gotta cancel dinner. Sorry. –
Giggling at my lie smeared in truth, I pulled out the garage. As I turned into traffic, I glanced up, hoping Daniel was watching me from the window of Giovanna. I was craving one of his overbearing texts, urging me to drive safely, but my phone showed no alerts.
Relief washed over me when I felt the soft vibration of my phone while driving up the driveway to our house. I unlocked the phone quickly, eager to read Daniel’s text, but it was my sister.
– Cool. I’m swamped anyway. Love ya.
Walking into our home, I shivered at the coolness that was once so warm and inviting. Somberly, I made my way to the bedroom I used to share with Daniel. He’d moved into a guestroom shortly after I filed for divorce, and I’d spent the last six months sleeping alone. I showered with hopeful thoughts of sleeping beside him again.
With thick white suds of shampoo falling from my hair, I replayed the past two hours in detail. Recalling my boldness and Daniel’s performance brought a smile to my face. I realized it was his taking control – with the workers, and then me – that pushed me over the edge. It was a role I had never conceded, to him or anyone else, but it felt good to follow his orders.
As I washed the conditioner from my hair, I decided not to lead whatever was to happen with us from this point on. I wasn’t going to question him, or seek clarity or closure. I had submitted, relinquishing my power, and I couldn’t take it back. He was leading, and I was following. Simple as that.
That plan left me anxious as I stopped the waterfall showerhead. Stepping into our cream and gray marbled bathroom, I looked at my thin frame in the mirror. My hair bunched around my nipples as my shrinkage curled against my copper skin. I missed my bronzed glow, in desperate need of a tan. My daydreams absentmindedly drifted to plans of a reconciliation trip on an island, and I laughed for not remaining in the backseat just two minutes after my declaration to follow Daniel’s lead.
I pulled my hair into two large braids and slipped on a silk nightgown before heading to the kitchen. Should I make dinner? Is he even coming home?Over the course of our secret separation, we’d digressed from knowing each other’s every move, to sleeping apart, to not even telling each other about late nights or work trips. We were living detached lives and I didn’t want to pretend that sex in our disaster real estate investment changed all of that, despite how mind-blowing it was for me.
Then, it occurred to me the sex might not have had the same effect on him. I did think he needed to blow off steam. And by all accounts, he’d done just that before promptly returning to work. I’d been home for an hour, and he hadn’t so much as sent a text. The possibility that he was unbothered was unsettling, though unlikely.
The memory of him groaning flashed vividly in my mind. I closed my eyes, remembering his kiss on my ear and felt my nipples harden beneath the silk nightgown. There was no way he could be less than pleased with that performance.
With that semblance of reassurance, I grabbed a menu from our favorite Chinese restaurant, calling in to order my favorite. Just before hanging up, I decided to order Daniel’s favorite as well. After all, he wasn’t there to lead that decision.
I finished what I could of my Sesame chicken dinner, and even had a little of Daniel’s shrimp Lo Mein, when I decided to turn in for the night. I did everything slowly, hoping to hear his car pull into the driveway, unsure of how he’d respond after my outburst in Gia.
Before climbing into bed, I propped the bedroom door open, encouraging Daniel to join me. After mentally running through every possible scenario, I felt myself drifting off, just as the garage door sounded. My heart fluttered as excitement shot through me like a dose of adrenaline. I knew I would be a coward and pretend to be asleep. I just wanted him to come into the room.
Listening closely as he entered the house, I heard his keys drop onto the end table in the foyer. His footsteps were the only sound in the entire house, loudly announcing his presence. In a panic, I decided to turn onto my stomach, certain my eyes would betray me with a flutter if he did decide to check on me.
Eventually, I felt his presence in the doorway. He must have watched me for two full minutes before gently walking to my side of the bed. I focused on my breathing as he hovered over me. I wanted to roll over, professing my love before begging him to come to bed. Instead, I remained still and silent, even when his hand barely touch my braided hair.
Then, I heard him glide back across the room as quietly as he entered, leaving a crack in the doorway rather than closing it completely.
The refrigerator opened and the microwave sounded, evidence that he’d found the Lo Mein I ordered for him. I wondered if he was smiling as I tried to build the courage to join him in the kitchen. I wanted to see if he would come to bed on his own, so I waited silently, listening and guessing what he’d do next until the sounds faded and I could no longer hear his movements.
I awoke without noticing I’d fallen asleep, reaching over to the empty side of our bed with disappointment. Daniel had not come to sleep with me. Taking in a heavy breath, I looked to the clock on my nightstand. It was only 6:30, plenty of time before we left for work. Maybe I’d cook omelets or pancakes.
I took the long route to the kitchen so I would pass the guest bedroom. The door was wide open, the bed perfectly made. I walked downstairs, hoping to find him in the gym, but knew from the silence at the bottom step that he wasn’t there. I headed back upstairs and peeked into the garage, noticing his car was gone. He’d left for work like nothing happened.
Damn.
I hope you enjoyed the snippet. To continue reading, please download Daydreams, my debut novella here.
