Disclaimer: For legal purposes, let's assume that I don't own anything.
I found this story in my archives. It's not finished but I know exactly how I wanted to complete it. If I get enough reviews for the stuff that is already written, I'll do my best to complete this story.
Theresa looked around the room and smiled. She hoped that her plan would work. She sent Gwen away on some business trip and made sure that everyone would be out of the house when Ethan got home. Lighting candles, Theresa slipped into her silken black neglige and waited for her heart's desire to come home.
Tired, Ethan carelessly threw his coat on the couch and poured himself a glass of brandy. He hated his life. Everything about it was screwed up. He was married to a woman that he did not love, he worked for a company that took him for granted. He put the tumbler down and scoffed.
How he despised going upstairs to the room next to Theresa's, imagining that it was Theresa that he was making love to every night.
Sighing, Ethan grabbed his jacket and walked up the stairs. Dragging his feet as he opened his door, he gasped at the sight before him. "Theresa!" he exclaimed ferociously. Theresa held two glasses of champagne in her left hand as her right seductively caressed her thigh.
"See something you like?" she asked as she gave Ethan a glass.
Ethan was in awe. He thought that perhaps he was dreaming. He quickly downed the champagne and threw the glass against the wall. "Damn it, Theresa! I'm married to Gwen." He was reminding himself more than the woman in front of him. I'm married, he kept repeating as he inched closer to her.
Theresa closed the gap between them and placed her lips on his. God, how she missed this. Missed him. She hastily unbuttoned his shirt. She placed small kisses on his chest.
Ethan couldn't take it anymore. She was driving him insane. He scooped her up into his arms and threw her on the bed. He had to have her. Vigorously, almost violently, he tore at her lingerie. Freeing himself just as quickly, he climbed on top of Theresa. He set a pace, driving in and out of her. He felt himself shudder as he came and collapsed on top of her.
Theresa was sick. The sex was not as good as she remembered it. In fact, it was terrible. Ethan was so, so selfish. Rolling over quietly, Theresa left the room, unsatisfied.
"So, my slut of a wife thinks she can get her fill else where?" Julian's voice echoed.
She looked up and saw his eyes burning down on her. Panic seeped into her stomach as his hatred bore into her. "What are you talking about?" she asked innocently.
Julian let out a small chuckle. "Oh my dear wife. I saw you come out of Ethan's room just now. And you don't look like a woman who just . . . talked."
She glared angrily at her husband. "What the hell do you care?" the contempt oozing through her words. "We don't love each other. You're sleeping with Rebecca."
Julian grabbed Theresa's arm aggressively. Bringing her face to his own so that he was looking into her eyes, he seethed, "Listen you little BITCH! I will not be made a fool of by another woman. You will remain faithful to me or you will regret it." With great force, he shoved Theresa to the ground. "My children with Ivy were grown up when her whorish behavior was exposed." An evil smile formed across his lips as he spoke the remaining message. "But your son is still young enough to suffer a 'tragic' death." Julian left his wife alone to contemplate her actions.