Joanne Benson hurried from the kitchen and headed for the den to kiss her husband good-bye. She reached the foyer when the phone rang. Habit made her pick it up. Before she could speak, she heard her husband's familiar voice say hello.

"Hello, Mr. Benson," a voice she didn't recognize said. She held on for a moment, her curiosity piqued.

"I'm leaving in a few minutes, Darin," Brad Benson said. "You'll be ready?"

"I'm in place, Mr. Benson. I'm outside your house."

"Good," Brad said, feeling better.

"Your wife will have me on her tail for the rest of the week. There won't be a thing she'll do that I won't know about."

"I'll expect it all in your report when I come back from New York. Who she talks to, where she goes, everything."

"That's what you're paying me for," the strange voice said.

"Have the report in my office on Monday, a week today, with your bill. Don't send it to the house."

"I'm discreet, Mr. Benson." The man sounded annoyed, his professional pride questioned.

Joanne stood aghast, holding the phone stiffly in her hand, her mouth open in shock. Her husband's suspicions and devious ways angered her. The phone clicked dead and she gently laid the receiver back in its cradle.

"You dirty bastard," she muttered under her breath. She forced a smile and opened the door to the den.

"Joanne," Brad said, a broad smile on his handsome features. "I was just coming out to get you. I'm ready to leave."

"I see," she said, seething inside from his distrust. She latched her arm through his and walked him to the front door where his luggage was waiting.

"I'm going to miss you," he said, taking Joanne into his arms and kissing her, his cock rubbing into her belly.

"I'll miss you too," she purred, feeling his boner. "You sure there isn't time for a fast fuck? You're hard and I'm dripping."