Disclaimer: Oh this so isn't mine.

A/n: That M rating means something in this chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

As Easy as Pie

A story by Ryeloza

Part Two: Revenge

Chapter Four: Evening Trysts

"Karl, what would you do if you caught me in bed with another man?"

From where he lay like a lump beside her, Karl simply grunted as a response. Susan frowned. The whole point of this was to jolt Karl from his lackadaisical treatment of their marriage. She didn't care if he was half-asleep from being up all night the evening before; she wanted a response.

"He'd have his arms around me, kissing my breasts, slowly beating a rhythm into me."

"You've been reading too many romance novels," Karl muttered.

"And then he'd kiss me and say, 'Susan, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I love you.' And at the exact same moment, I'd climax. Then you'd walk in…see me in the throes of pleasure…"

"More like I'd hear you shrieking like a banshee." Karl's voice slid up into an unfavorable impression of her. "'Ooh, mystery man…plow me harder. Harder. Fuck me.' That's the sound of you in bed."

"Yeah, well…better than you." Susan dropped her voice. "'I'm the man. I'm the man. Oh fuck yes. I'm the man.'"

Karl laughed. "I am the man. Your mystery guy can't possibly measure up. If he's saying that crap to you while banging you then he's not doing it right."

Susan slapped Karl's arm and scowled.


When Lynette finally heard Tom come home, she'd already been in bed for forty minutes with only her book for company. There was no way to know for sure if he was working late to avoid her—as Gaby had said Carlos had done—or if he legitimately had to stay, but Lynette knew that either way he wasn't going to get away with just crawling into bed and passing out. She had plans for him; ones straight from a veritable guidebook of romantic trysts.

The door creaked open slowly and Tom crept into to the room, nearly jumping out of his skin when she said, "Hey." The knowledge that he was already on edge made her smile.

"Oh, hey," said Tom, trying and failing to seem smooth. "I didn't think you'd be up."

Lynette shrugged. "Just reading. How was your day?"

"Fine, I guess. Long." Tom raised an eyebrow and loosened his tie to remove it. "Is that wine?"

"Oh." Lynette glanced from her book to the glass of red wine in her hand and shrugged. "Yeah. You want a sip?"

She wasn't surprised when Tom began to mutter weak protests, but they were easy to ignore as she tossed her book onto the nightstand and climbed out of bed. He was watching her with furtive eyes that made her think that he knew exactly what she was doing. But where he probably thought it would end with his dick in her mouth, she had very different plans.

"Here." She handed him the glass and he took a quick sip. "Good, right?"

"Mm-hmm," agreed Tom. He lowered the glass, but instead of taking it from him, Lynette raised her hand to his face, using the pad of her thumb to wipe his lips. To her delight, Tom actually closed his eyes at the sensation, making it much easier to get away with dropping her hand and accidentally-on-purpose bumping the glass so the wine spilled all over his shirt.

"Oh no!" she gasped, trying not to laugh at the look of horror on Tom's face. She took the glass from him and set it on the dresser. "I'm such a klutz!"

"It's fine," said Tom, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

"Here, let me." She batted his hands away and slowly began to undress him. The entire time she kept her eyes firmly fixed on his, watching as he transformed from a man on edge to a man who wanted her badly.

"Lynette," he said. His voice was in that low octave that automatically made her wet, but she ignored her own lust. Silently, she peeled his shirt away from his chest and arms, letting it float to the floor.

"That soaked right through," she said in a sultry tone. She swallowed, unhappy that she was not quite in control of her own voice anymore. Not sure that she wasn't getting in over her head, but determined to see this through, she stepped forward and pressed her lips against her husband's chest, barely kissing him before using her tongue to lick away the wine that had soaked through his shirt. She felt Tom stiffen, his hands clenched at his sides, but she ignored this as she tenderly trailed her tongue all the way down to his bellybutton. When she finished, she straightened up, unable to meet Tom's eyes, even though that was what the seductress from her book would have done. If she looked at him, they absolutely would end up having sex. She wouldn't be able to help herself.

"You should get a shower," she said shakily. "Finish cleaning that up." Patting his shoulder quickly, Lynette stepped past him and grabbed his shirt from the floor; pre-treating it was the perfect excuse to get out of this suddenly too-warm room. When she glanced at him on her way out, Tom still hadn't moved a muscle.


"Gaby, what are you doing?"

From where she sat on the floor, Gaby looked up at her husband and smiled. He'd just gotten home from work and she'd been waiting for him. "Reorganizing our sex toys," she said, gazing around at the collection of toys that surrounded her. "The drawer was getting so cluttered." She picked up a long, thick vibrator and held it close to her face. "Do we still use this one?"

Carlos shook his head. "I…have to get a shower."

Gaby flicked the switch, grinning as the vibrator began to shake. "Hurry back!" she called.


Mary Alice felt a pair of warm lips kiss her cheek as someone pulled a blanket up to her shoulder. "Paul?" she mumbled sleepily, trying to remember what was going on. She'd been waiting up for her husband; she remembered that. The television was on. And then she'd gotten so sleepy…

"Yeah," she heard her husband say softly. "Go back to sleep, honey."

"I'm not asleep."

Paul's hand tenderly ran over her hair and down her cheek, and Mary Alice slipped back to her dream world.


Rex was already in bed with the lights out when Bree came into their bedroom that night. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and for several minutes, Bree just stood watching him in the dim light of the moon. Some part of her—a large part of her—just wanted to get into her side of the bed, peck him on the cheek and fall into a restless, but safe slumber. She didn't want to challenge the status quo of their marriage and in the back of her mind, Mary Alice's words about rejection flitted about like an annoyed bird. But what she had told Mary Alice was just as true for her: Rex was her husband. Her husband.

That wasn't something to be taken lightly.

Softly, Bree crept over to the bed, slinking onto the mattress right over to where Rex laid. She settled a hand on his chest, tracing curlicues with the tips of her fingers, and looked down into his face. "Hi," she whispered.

Rex looked up at her and sighed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm saying hello." Boldly, Bree let her hand trail down his chest to his groin, cupping him through his pants. "Hello," she said, squeezing him gently.

"Oh, come on, Bree." Rex batted her hand away and took her by the shoulders, rolling her onto her side of the bed. "Get a grip. I have to get up at six tomorrow."

"So do I."

"Yeah, but you're just puttering around the house all day. I have to work."

With effort, Bree let the put-down of her life pass. There were more important hurdles to jump tonight. "You won't even notice how tired you are," she said silkily.

Rex rolled his eyes. "Goodnight, Bree," he said firmly, and he rolled over so his back was to her.

For one soul-crushing moment, Bree actually lay there ready to just accept that her husband would rather win some stupid bet than be with her. But the thought of that just made her mad. As if money was more important than she was. As if saving face with the guys meant more to him than she did. What right did he have to ever make her feel like this? Furious, Bree leapt out of bed and flicked on a light, crossing her arms over her chest. Rex didn't move, but Bree glared at his back with a look so horrible that she was sure he could feel it boring into his soul. "I know about the bet," she hissed angrily.

A silence as long as a mile stretched between them before Rex rolled over to look at her. There was nothing in his face that indicated guilt or regret or anything else she would have expected from her accusation. Finally, he said, "What bet?"

"Is there more than one?"

Rex sighed. "Now, Bree, don't overreact."

"Don't! Don't you dare tell me not to overreact!" She put her hands on her hips and shook her head angrily. "This is a reaction that is perfectly appropriate to the situation! What were you thinking?"

"It was just for fun."

"Oh. Well as long as you were having fun, Rex. Never mind the utter humiliation I felt when all of my friends instantly knew something was going on and I didn't have a clue. It wasn't even hard for you, was it?"

To Bree's degradation, now was the moment that Rex looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She felt her breath catch in her throat. "Oh."

"No. It's not like that," said Rex, actually climbing out of bed and crossing the room to stand in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders, but Bree didn't look up at him. "It's just that you and I are settled. We have some self-control. That's what happens when you've been married this long."

Bree had been using that rationalization for days now. She thought of Mary Alice, who was in the same situation as she, and then of Susan and her insatiable husband. She sighed. "I used to think that, but I'm not so sure that it's par for the course, Rex."

Rex smiled and reached up to play with the ends of her hair. It was a familiar, comfortable gesture. "I like the golf metaphor."

"Rex. Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't act like you're suddenly in the mood. I won't be patronized."

To her chagrin, Rex stepped closer to her, practically invading her personal space. "Come on, Bree. It's just sex."

Just sex. Just some meaningless act of pleasure that could be done with anyone at anytime. She'd never believed that and she certainly hadn't thought Rex did. Glowering, Bree shoved Rex hard, forcing him to stumble away from her. "I love you!" she shouted, no longer caring if it was distasteful. "I've loved you for my entire adult life. You are the only man I've ever been with. And now you're telling me that our love-making is that meaningless?"

"That isn't what I said!"

"You might as well have!"

Rex let out a blustery, angry sound, somewhere between a sigh and a snort. "You are the most frustrating woman I've ever known!"

"Yes, well, you're not the gentleman I thought you were!"

"Yeah? Maybe you're right!" Before Bree knew what was happening, Rex flew toward her, grabbing her roughly and kissing her more passionately than he had in years. Instinctively, she wanted to resist; she tried to pull back, but Rex held onto her tightly. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily.

"You can't just kiss me and expect this fight to end," Bree snapped. Rex paid her words no heed, simply threading his fingers through her hair and kissing her again. Despite any rationalizations she had against this or any anger she felt, when Rex brushed his tongue against her lips, Bree couldn't help but to sigh into his mouth. He had always been a brilliant kisser.

Rex pulled back to look down at her. His eyes were still flashing and his body was tense; Bree's heart sped up even more and she made a slight effort to squirm away from her husband. Apparently it was the final straw, because Rex shook his head and practically shouted, "Oh for Pete's sake! I love you, you know that?"

Slowly, Bree nodded. Her acquiescence actually calmed Rex, and he lowered his voice back to a normal volume. "Good. Don't ever forget that."

Still feeling bold, Bree said quietly, "Don't ever let me."

The ultimatum made Rex grin, an expression that softened his whole face and made Bree light up from the inside-out. It felt like too long since Rex had smiled at her like that. Without warning, he scooped her into his arms and stumbled toward the bed, laying her down on top of it with a look in his eyes that left no doubts that this was what he wanted. It left Bree unsure as to whether she'd won the argument or not, but she guessed it didn't matter.

This was exactly what she wanted too.