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  And Then There Were Three

  By Renee Lindemann

  Copyright ©2014 Renee Lindemann

  Cover Art by EngimaGraphics © 2014

  Smashwords Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all the unusual adult couples who have based their relationships on love, not society!

  Other Books By Renee Lindemann

  Gemini Book 1

  Gemini Book 2

  The Dark Closet Volume 1

  The Dark Closet Volume 2

  Deporting Dominic

  Available on Amazon…

  And Then There Were Three…

  Segment 1 The Beginning

  Segment 2 The Marriage

  Segment 3 The Introduction

  Segment 4 The Drama

  Segment 5 The Proposal/ Wedding

  Segment 6 About the Author

  I am writing this to tell my, well I guess it is more like our side of the story. My name is Eva Thompson and my husband’s name is Mark Thompson. We have been married sixteen blissful years. There was that one-year where we were both contemplating extramarital affairs. Thankfully we both realized the devastating effects this would have on our lives and the lives of our children. Neither of us went through with the affairs, instead we refocused on the love and passion. It has been smooth sailing every since, well at least up until last year that is. I work as a romance novelist, under a pen name of course. The books I write have found a very loyal audience. This gives me the creative freedom to work from home and provide care to my three children.

  My three children are: Sabrina (15), Mark Jr. (13), and Celeste (9). My husband, Mark is a partner in an architecture firm. My husband is an amazing man. I need to clear that misconception up right now. I have never been disappointed in any way with my husband. He has always been very kind, an excellent father, and a wonderful companion. I will always know that I struck gold when I met him and platinum when I married him. I love him more than I can convey in words. We have a very vibrant sex life, contrary to what has been said or whispered. There was nothing wrong with our marriage before last year. We learned that we had so much love to give and we eventually found someone worthy of receiving that love.

  In this short novella I will give you the background on how my family went from a family of five to a family of six, without the birth of a child. I will break this short novella into six segments. So many people have asked me how we could have done this to our family. Others think that our marriage was marred to begin with. A few others have suggested that we are just perverts. I will explain and dispel the crazy myths. I generally have a flair for detail in my books. I will keep that trend going in these pages. My goal is to be as honest as humanly possible.

  The Beginning

  I absolutely did not want to attend a Que party on campus however my best friend Shantel was adamant that we were both going. I didn’t mind the frat parties on campus but so close to finals unnerved me.

  “Shantel, I have finals on Monday,” I whined. Shantel gave me a look that told me we where going to the party, finals be damned. I sulked all the way to the party but I was still dressed very cute in a blue dress. Inside the party I gave all the guys a hard time, until I stumbled upon Mark. He definitely did not attend our school. An obvious indicator was his ultra preppie attire. He was in khaki shorts, short-sleeved button up shirt, a tie, and loafers. I liked him immediately as he stuck out like a sore thumb. I hope that you believe that meeting Mark for me was love at first sight. He was so damn good looking that I could barely keep my eyes off him the entire time. Eventually he got the hint and came over to talk to me. We ended up leaving the party an hour later. Another few hours later he and I were in my room talking like old friends.

  By morning we had engaged in sex about three times. Our connection was that instantaneous and going to different schools did little to quell our appetites for each other. We scheduled our classes so that we would have the same down time. The sex was unlike anything I had experienced to date. Mark was the third man I had ever been intimate with and he was so patient with my inexperience. As my confidence in the bedroom grew, he introduced me to new heights of pleasure. I know that sounds rather clichéd to say but it was true. I was such a prude when I met him, it was a wonder he was even interested in me. Months after we had become an official couple Mark and I enjoyed lovemaking as our favorite pastime. I loved the feel of his hands, mouth, or exceptional manhood on or in me. I wish I could describe the existential plane with which we made love, had sex, or fucked. Whatever you want to call it, I experienced it with Mark.

  During my junior year we were engaged. Mark and I were living in a small apartment while he worked as a junior architect with a local firm. We were married the next year after my graduation. It was a secret between the two of us that we were pregnant before the actual wedding. Thankfully Sabrina was a late baby, so everyone assumed she had been conceived on our honeymoon. I took a job writing for a local magazine and juggled being a new wife and new mother. It was fantastic getting to know this new little person and Mark as a husband.

  Within a few years we had Mark Jr. and I was a published author. I took the time to write during my pregnancy. My first novel The Seven Sisters, opened to moderate success, considering it was a bit raunchy by most romance novel standards. I wrote under the pen name Charlotte Abernathy. I planned to continue writing a new book about the seven sisters every few years until I decided to do something else. Mark agreed that I should write full time from home. It gave me the perfect opportunity to raise our two children. Mark was up for a partnership in his architecture firm when book number two dropped. Eventually we settled into married life in a nice starter home.

  The Marriage

  Anyone who has been truly married knows that by year five you are fighting to keep all the love and passion from the previous years from evaporating. Mark and I had two children, very demanding careers, and lots of passion. It was finding the time for this passion that proved to be our most difficult challenge. Often we could be found having a “quickie” in our laundry room or our Master bathroom. With small children it was impossible to find an hour to engage in passionate lovemaking. When the children were sleep we often picked up on whatever work we missed. After that it was time to sleep so that we could repeat our day. Top that with an active social life, which included a bevy of friends and colleagues to entertain. We very rarely had time to just enjoy the passion still coursing through our blood.

  I remember a particularly sensual moment ending in an embarrassing disaster. One Saturday afternoon we spent at one of those children’s eateries with the games. After which we took in a movie before heading home. The kids were out, much to our delight when we arrived home. We put them to bed and immediately took this time to engage in some adult activities. Mark ran a bath in our Jacuzzi bathtub in our private bathroom. We slipped underneath the mountains of bubbles in a fit of youthful giggles and sweet kisses. Eventually I took the opportunity to ride my husband beneath the sudsy water. The noises emanating from our bathroom could I’m sure be heard by our neighbors. We were so enjoying the feel of our bodies connected that we lost all sense of location.

  “Turn around,” Mark commanded. I immediately did as I was told getting on all fours as he took me from be
hind. I mewed and cried out as my husband reminded me how much I enjoyed sex with him. We simultaneously hit our orgasms as both our children stood in the doorway to our bathroom watching the entire scene unfold. Even after we realized they were there we could not stop the sounds. My body continued to grip and release as my husband tried to stifle his moans of pleasure. We were both frozen, neither wanting to get out of the tub to talk to the children. I can still see the shocked expression on Sabrina’s face as Mark Jr. clutched her shirt, a frightened expression spread over his toddler face. That night we explained the birds and the bees to a four year old and our two year old, we assumed, he would just be traumatized. His level of comprehension was still too underdeveloped to comprehend our words.

  As the children got older, asserting their independence we found that scheduling time for intimacy was necessary. It was something that we never wanted to include in our marriage. Mark and I wanted to keep our love life spontaneous and fun but alas we found schedule sex to be just as exciting. I loved going about my day knowing that in however many hours I would be in my husband’s arms. We found that texting or emailing our intended actions only intensified our desire. So you see we didn’t have an issue with sex in our marriage.

  After Celeste was born I found myself dealing with postpartum depression. It was so overwhelming that I could barely care for my new baby and my other children. For a short time Mark and I hired a part-time nanny to assist with my day-to-day chores. During this time Mark spent considerable amounts of time at the office, unsure of how to deal with my depression. I for the life of me couldn’t understand what I had to be depressed over. I had a husband who loved me, three beautiful children, a great writing career, and a lovely new home built just for me. I pulled away from social activities preferring the comforts of my home office and computer.

  Andre was an attorney for a major financial firm that I started to chat with on a regular basis. He had dealt with postpartum depression with his now ex-wife. It was as if he had a manual of all the right things to say. I begin to crave my time chatting with him. I slowly started to pull away from my husband or did he start to pull away from me first? I cannot really recall who started it but it happened. He was consumed with being at the office and I was consumed with being in front of my computer. Andre and I would chat via webcam when Mark was away. Andre just knew all the right things to say in regards to my depression. It began to lift and I attributed that directly to him. He kept pushing me for a face-to-face and I brushed him off as gently as I possibly could.

  Cleaning out my husband’s Tahoe truck changed my mind on that face to face. Celeste was in desperate need of her favorite toy, which had last been seen in the vicinity of the monster-sized truck. I was pouring through the truck looking for this teething ring when I came across a gym bag. There were no basketball shorts, tennis shoes, or even a towel to indicate the bag was being used for its intended purpose. Inside was a change of clothes: jeans, casual shirt, and Kenneth Cole loafers. This was Mark’s standard dress down outfit, generally reserved for going out. My boiling blood fueled my change of heart in regards to meeting Andre. I figured if he was out mingling then I should be out mingling.

  Andre was everything he purported to be online. I cannot and will not demonize him, except to say that he knew I was a married woman. By all accounts he was a successful, handsome bachelor looking for real love. I, unfortunate for Andre, had already found the love of my life and was unable to give him what he really wanted, me. While sitting for drinks I nervously droned on hoping he would get bored and leave me sitting at the bar. I needed an out! I could not cheat on my husband no matter what he was doing or whom he was doing it with. I had already crossed many of the cheat lines by getting to know Andre.

  “I am sorry Andre. I can’t do this. I really like you and your understanding of what I was going through was invaluable. The truth is I really do love my husband and this would be a huge mistake,” I whispered softly.

  “I can see how nervous you are with me, which surprises me a great deal. I have looked forward to this moment for months. I really wish the circumstances were different Eva,” he replied. The defeated look in his eyes made me feel like a world-class ass for leading him on. I apologized before trying to make a hasty retreat. Andre grabbed my arm as I headed out the door pulling me into an embrace. He smelled so damn good! I held firm to my resolve despite my temporary weakness. When he kissed me it sealed the deal. This man I had come to have a huge crush on, he had understood my turmoil, and been my shoulder to cry on. Now with his lips against mines I felt nothing. Unfortunately for him, he felt a lot and it was evident on my leg. I pulled away mumbling more apologies before getting into my car. It took me months to log on again to that account. The little balloon popped up with a message: “You will forever be the one who got away. Literally!”

  It took me several days to get up the nerve to confront and reveal to Mark what was going on with me. It did not go well initially. We yelled and argued blaming each other for my almost affair. I asked him about the gym bag and he admitted his almost affair with an intern. I was crushed by his admission and tried to rid myself of my internal hypocrite. I listened to his words of apology. In the end we both cried like babies and pled for the survival of our relationship. I enjoyed the wonderful lovemaking that occurred as we renewed our love and our relationship. It, however, was short-lived, as we no longer trusted each other. I would see him coming out of my home office knowing that he had checked the history on my computer. I, in turn, would scour his truck to see if he was stashing clothes. We called each other constantly, trying our best to reassure the other. It became more strenuous then before the admissions. Mark and I sat down one evening after the kids were off to bed to revisit our faux pas.

  “We can’t keep living like this,” he said first. I nodded my head in agreement not sure how we could rebuild that trust again.

  “I think we have to bury the almost affairs or we will end up ruining this,” I suggested.

  “I think you’re right E. We have to trust each other again or this goes nowhere fast.” Mark took my hand in his as the first of my tears fell. I loved him so much and the thought of him being with another woman brought me to my emotional knees. I could see he struggled with the same feelings in regards to me with another man. That night we made up our mines to put the almost affairs far behind us. We would trust each other and leave the spy work to the real spies. And just like that we were back to our previous bliss. My depression was lifted, courtesy of Andre, and my marriage was back on track. That was courtesy of trust. I think back on that and it was a bad time that had wonderful consequences. We both learned how much our marriage meant. We both learned that we could forgive and love so passionately still. Every since that day I have trusted my husband implicitly. I have never had a moment occur in our years since that day that would shake my faith in him. Now faith in me would be another story.

  The Introduction

  Sabrina, my oldest daughter, was heavily involved in extracurricular activities. She played the piano, was a cheerleader at school, and a dancer. After her teacher, Mrs. Woodruff, decided to take a job with a traveling dance troupe, we were in desperate need of a new studio. Precious Moves Studio came highly recommended from one of my husband’s colleagues. Sabrina and I decided to give the studio a chance. Sabrina’s first day at the studio coincided with the release of my fifth novel. I was preoccupied with talking to my editor, trying desperately to convince her that making a public appearance was a bad idea. I was a great mystery to my small legion of fans and it sold more books that way.

  I was engaged in a heated discussion when Nicole Fischer, the dance instructor introduced herself to me. I shook her hand, said all the pleasantries I could muster before returning to my discussion via Bluetooth technology. I gave my daughter a hug and informed her I would be back in an hour to pick her up. I hardly glanced in Nicole’s direction as I swept out the studio in search of a Starbucks. My patience was not restored an hour later as
I leaned on my horn for Sabrina to leave the studio. I sent her a quick text message to indicate my urgency. I had to send an email that was only possible from my home computer. It would be three trips later that I would finally give my attention to Sabrina’s new dance teacher.

  “I am so sorry Miss Nicole for not properly introducing myself. I am a writer and I…” I trailed off as I took in the new dance teacher. To say Miss Nicole was beautiful was the understatement of the year, or decade. There could have been very little doubt as she grew up as to her profession. The long elegant legs were by design those of a dancer. We were almost the same height but she had me by a few inches. Smooth, delicate, lightly tanned skin covered her petite frame. It was her face that drew you in. The gentle curve of her mouth and plump lips would have invited the most heterosexual female to sample them. It appeared as if she was wearing a soft red lipstick but it was the natural color of her lips. With zero make-up on this woman was absolutely stunning. Her long brown hair was swept up into a ponytail. The escape of a few strands of hair did not give her an unkempt look, quite the opposite. It made her look even more gorgeous. I stuttered a bit as I tried to regain my composure.

  “I am sorry for my hasty departure these last few visits. I am generally very involved with Sabrina’s dance instruction,” I said trying to recover my composure. Never had a woman ever struck me as attractive. I do not mean that I am catty with women I do not know. It’s just I can appreciate a beautifully dressed woman, albeit from afar. I have never considered a woman gorgeous to me in this way. I felt my mind race around its short track as I continued to struggle with this woman’s appearance.

  “It’s fine I totally understand how busy parents can get. I do not take it personal,” she smiled at me. “It is nice to finally meet you.”