Unleashed

Dean Bennington rolled over, sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed in his boxers, and dipped his head with a sigh passing his lips. His fingers combed through short brown hair as he got to his feet and walked across lush carpeting to the master bath. The water jets did little to alleviate the tension in his shoulders, and the strain was made worse when a voice called from the other side of the mirrored, sliding shower doors.

"I'm coming in, baby."

Dean put on a fabricated smile for his wife and stepped aside so she could join him. "Good morning," he spoke without emotion, but conjured up a sparkle in his eyes.

Her palms circled his pecs as she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, which remained unpliable and tight. Pouting, she lowered herself to her feet, raised her hand and took out the barrette holding her hair up. The long blonde tresses cascaded to her breasts. "What's the matter, baby? You've been distant lately."

"One of the head chefs at Riviera quit." Riviera was just one of the upscale restaurants in Bennington's Hotel. Dean scrubbed shampoo in his hair, feeling Jess trying to awaken his cock with a few tugs from her dainty hands.

"Make love to me and take your mind off of work."

Dean cracked an eye open. "Now?"

She looked at him crazily. "Not in the shower. It's too slippery and someone could get injured. When you're done," she said, grabbing a towel. "I'll be on the bed waiting for you. Don't be long."

Dean sighed again after she left. He wasn't in the mood. In fact, he hadn't been in the mood for a good six months, or more. He could blame his lack of interest in sex on work. He and his three brothers inherited the popular chain "Bennington's Hotel" five years ago and they each ran one, but he knew that wasn't the reason he was unhappy.

He toweled off and gazed into the mirror. Resigning himself to performing his husbandly duties, he strode into the bedroom and made love to his wife. Any release was a good release. Yet, looking down at his trophy wife—complete with an eating disorder, nose and boob jobs, and a haute couture collection of Versace and Dior in her wardrobe—made him feel incomplete.

He loved her, or thought he did. His father had approved of her. He'd introduced Dean to her at one of the hotel conventions many years ago. She came from good breeding, his father had told him, and Dean had been attracted to her when she'd been less concerned about her appearance and of what society thought of her.

Now here he was, thrust in the world of hotels and in a marriage where all Jess cared about was how she looked. She didn't want children because it would ruin her figure, not that Dean cared. Children in this marriage would be just another accessory Jess would flaunt around, much like the expensive jewelry she'd bought after the inheritance was settled and they'd moved into a bigger home in the elite section of the city.

He planted a kiss on her lips, but she didn't react in kind. Instead, she asked, "Why did that feel mechanical?"

"How do you mean?"

"You put no heart into it, no emotion. What's troubling you? You used to be so passionate in bed."

"I told you—stress. And it doesn't help that you critique me each time." Dean stood and watched her eyes glaze over as she took in his toned body. Her gaze fell to his abdomen and farther to his cock.

Always in awe over his body, she commented, "You're so sexy, so attractive, Deanie. Is there another woman?" Her brows rose but little else did; Botox prevented wrinkles to form on her forehead.

Dean hadn't meant to laugh, but he had. "When would I have time? Anyway, I love you. I don't want anyone else."

Jess looked on skeptically, and when Dean smiled at her, that shining, honest to goodness smile, she sighed with relief. "I love you."

"I'd better get dressed and ready." He preferred the laid-back look: some stubble, a ruffle through his hair with damp fingers and a dab of pomade distributed throughout. He didn't need Botox or new clothes. He was content and that's what was important to him. Money made life difficult when they'd come into it—as seen by Jess's transformation. Dean finished up with a dab of his favorite cologne and dressed in a dark suit. His mind ran through what he had to do today. There were the staff's new policies to go over and one head chef had quit. The executive chef that ran the kitchen afternoons and evenings was in charge of hiring a new one. He wanted to be there for that, but he couldn't guarantee he'd make it in time with all the responsibilities an owner held. Then, he had meetings for most of the afternoon and wouldn't be home until late.

Jess angled him to face her. She fixed his collar and gave him a peck on the cheek, then wiped the red lipstick mark off with a spit soaked thumb. "Have a great day."

Dean smiled, and with a nod gave her a reply, "I will. What are you going to do?"

"Oh, the girls and I planned a day out. You know, nothing much. First we have aerobics class, then we'll get our nails done, and probably go shoe shopping."

Dean moaned inwardly. "Do you really need another pair of shoes? You're running out of room. Pretty soon you'll be using the closet in the guest room for your purchases."

"A girl can never have too many shoes, baby. You want me to look good, don't you?"

"You look good either way." Dean didn't have the energy or time to tell her no. She'd spend his—their—money and as long as she was happy, she wasn't bothering him.

"I'll buy you a nice gift too. Would you like that?"

Dean had all he needed. He didn't need material things to make him happy. "I really don't need anything, sweetheart."

She laughed as if that was the most ridiculous thing Dean had ever uttered. "Nonsense. We all could do with a good makeover." She said and left the room.
﴿﴾ ﴿﴾ ﴿﴾
Dean's morning went by with a blur. He'd forgotten about the applicant for head chef and missed the interview. Later, he had a call on his cell from the executive chef, Alex. He'd hired a promising man that had a good amount of work experience after graduating culinary school.

One less thing for Dean to worry about.

On his way to his office in the upper floors of the hotel, Jess called. "Oh god, you should see the new aerobics trainer! He's twenty-three and has blonde hair and blue eyes and he's so energetic. He even held my hips to show me a new move and the girls were soooo jealous." She giggled. "Remember Mark, the last instructor?"

Dean didn't, but said he did, "Yeah."

"He wore a workout outfit that looked sloppy—a sleeveless tee shirt and baggy shorts. Well this guy wears spandex shorts and a tank and I swear looking at him is like seeing him naked. His clothes are tight and fit him oh so right," she gushed.

"What's his name?" Dean asked without a care, but to be polite.

"Lance. Aerobics just got a whole lot more fun!"

"He's gay," Dean stated soberly, entering his office for a folder to take to the conference room and explained, "A man teaching aerobics in tight clothing without a care that women can see his junk has to be gay."

"Now that's just mean. They would never hire a fairy to teach our class."

Dean could see her stomping her foot with a grimace on her face in his mind. "I'm not lying. Tell me, did he hit on you or ask you out?" Dean's fingers rifled through his file cabinet and pulled out the pale orange folder he'd been looking for. He opened it and scanned the first page before tucking it between his arm and body.

"No. He didn't hit on anyone besides laying his hands on me. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Yeah, he's gay." Dean held back a chuckle and left his office. "Look, I have a meeting in five. I'll talk to you later."

"Stop it. He's not gay." A scowl was in her voice, then her tone changed to a sweet one, "Oh, we're going to Bell'Italia for a late lunch and drinks. I told the girls I'd pay since they're envious of Lance touching me. Which credit card should I use?"

"That place is expensive."

"We can afford it. You own a hotel!"

"Just a second." The carpeted hall absorbed the sound of his footsteps as he caught up to members of his management team. He covered the phone and told them he'd be a moment and waited for them to enter the conference room before speaking to Jess. Dean leaned against the wall and asked, "How many of you are going?"

"There's only seven of us. Melinda and her daughter, Olivia, couldn't make it. Get this! Kellie heard from someone who heard from someone else that Olivia had been pulled over and got a ticket for DUI. Can you believe it? To tarnish her parents name like that! She's only seventeen. Melinda and Tom had better set down some ground rules. Can you imagine what others must think? "

"Jess," Dean sighed. "I drank when I was underage too with my brothers and best friend."

"You're a man; it's a rite of passage to experiment. No one cares if guys drink. Girls have a pristine image to uphold."

Dean disagreed. Kids try things and it didn't have to do with whether they were female or male, rich or poor, black or white. Moving onward, he stated, "It's not our business what Melinda and her daughter are doing. Gossiping leads to more lies."

"It's not a lie."

"I have a feeling that it's not as bad as your friends are making it out to be. When rumors are passed around, they become distorted. Go about your day and don't worry about what so and so is doing or did. Just enjoy yourself. Tell the others I said hello. Use the MasterCard, I suppose."

"Would you like me to bring you something to eat?"

"No, thank you. I've got to go and start this meeting. I'll see you tonight." He hung up and opened the glass door, greeting the men and women inside.
﴿﴾ ﴿﴾ ﴿﴾
Dean trudged up the front steps of his home and walked inside, expecting to relax by watching the late nightly news, then go to bed for a dreamless sleep. Jess had other plans.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses, and dragged him unwillingly to the dining room where she'd lit five candles. He stared at the table and the fancy take-out food on their china plates. When he turned to his wife to ask the occasion, she opened the pink silk robe she wore and revealed dainty lace undergarments complete with matching high heels.

"Jess, all I want to do is unwind and go to bed. I've had a long day." Dean loosened his tie and shrugged out of his suit jacket.

"I want to put romance back into our marriage. I miss you. I miss the way you were before you began working fourteen hours a day. You're the boss. It isn't unreasonable for you to delegate work to others. I'm sure there are plenty of people capable of running your hotel."

"I'm the owner. I have to be there to interface with staff, investors, the media, and guests to run a successful business." His voice came out sharper, "I meet with food service and housekeeping managers. I reinforce the role of hospitality to enhance personal and family satisfaction. I do this each and every day to ensure the hotel runs smoothly."

"Maybe you can have your brothers buy you out. God knows you need a day off. At least take a vacation with me." Clayton and Troy, Dean's older brothers, and Nevin, his younger brother ran other Bennington's Hotels around the U.S. Only they'd hired executive managers to do most of the work while they put in a mere forty hour week and took vacations when they wanted to.

"I don't have time to take off." Exasperated, he took the wine goblet off the table and swallowed the fruity liquid down. "I'm going to bed." He took a few steps away.

"Dean!" Jess ran to him, heels clicking on the marble floor, and hugged him from behind. "I know something is bothering you besides work. Is it me? Do you want a break from me?"

Dean turned and hugged her. "No. It's just ... something is missing. I don't know what it is." He held her head to his chest. "I wish I knew. Goodnight," he said and kissed her on the head, but she wouldn't let go of his hand when he circled around.

"Are you considering a divorce?" Her voice was high and scared.

"No. It's not that." Dean shook his head to ease his wife's mind. He felt ashamed he couldn't explain the feeling of an absence in his life. He should be happy; he had more than most men his age, everything he needed, and it still wasn't enough.

"Are you or do you want to see other women? Do I not satisfy you in bed?"

"Jess, please. Don't do this."

"Do what?" She raised her thin arms in the air. "Ask you why you're acting like you don't want to be married to me? Look how I'm dressed, Dean. It didn't get you in the mood. You're not even hard."

"I said don't do this; to me or to yourself."

Jess glanced down and sniffled. "I love you, but if you're not happy, then we have to do something. I'm not going to lose you, but I don't want to smother you either, so here's what I'll do. It's the same thing Melinda did with Tom and their marriage came out of it even better. I'll give you a one weekend pass."

"A what?" Dean's head jerked back. "What does that mean? You want a separation?"

"It's not a separation, it's a free weekend. You have one weekend of your choice to go out and pretend you're not married to me. Do whatever you want, get it out of your system. But I don't want to know what you do or with who."

"I am not going to cheat on you, Jess." Dean chuckled nervously.

"It's not cheating if you have permission from me. All you have to do is pick a weekend and do what your heart pleases. I think it's something you need, what we need."

"What am I supposed to do?" he couldn't help it, he laughed.

Jess was serious and frowned at his lack of understanding. "Anything you want."

"What about you?"

"I'm not the one that's struggling here. I want you to do this for me and for you."

"This is crazy."

"Well, keep it in your thoughts. You may want to do this or you may not go through with it, but if you do, I want you completely rejuvenated when you come back to me. You'll have gotten whatever you're going through out of your head."

'You've got to be fucking kidding me,' Dean thought, 'Why is she doing this?' "I don't need a weekend to tell me that I love you, want you, and need you."

"Sleep on it. Remember, anytime you need a break. It's one weekend for you to be single." Jess patted Dean's scruffy cheek. "Go up to the bedroom and change. I'll bring your dinner and you can eat in bed. Sound good?"

Dean's features relaxed and he nodded. "Thank you. I'm sorry for being short with you. I'm exhausted."

Jess followed him up the winding staircase, asking another question, "How did the interview go with the applicant for head chef?"

"I didn't make it, but Alex, the executive chef told me he hired someone. I'm relieved I don't need to worry about being shorthanded." Dean unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his tie on the way into the bedroom.

"Want me to run you a hot bath before you eat?"

"Nah, but thanks all the same." Dean let his slacks fall to the floor. He stood in his briefs next to their bed and rubbed his temples.

"I have an idea," Jess smiled, seducing her husband with her fingers caressing his body. "I'll pleasure you. You won't have to do a thing but sit on the bed and enjoy yourself." She used both hands to push his chest. He fell to the bed on his ass. Jess knelt and knocked his legs apart with the back of her hands, then pulled at the elastic band of his underwear away from his body.

"You don't have to..." Dean trailed off, then took in a shaky breath as the heat from a mouthful of air hit the head of his cock. He moaned when her fingers brought it out in the open. Her tongue lapped at it with care. Dean felt himself growing in her hand and closed his eyes. He needed this, this undivided attention. He'd had to please people all day. Now it was his turn.

She'd worked him over good. One thing of many he appreciated about her is she gave a good blowjob. She stroked him and worked the head of his cock, suctioning and giving tiny licks with the tip of her tongue to tease him. He bucked into her mouth and cussed when he came. When his body had pumped out all it could, Jess stood up and rushed to the bathroom to spit his release into the sink. He heard her brushing and gargling, as if she couldn't bear the taste of him.

Dean took a fast shower and walked back into the bedroom in clean boxers. He peeled back the blankets on the bed and made himself comfortable with two pillows propping him up. Taking the remote control in hand, he turned on the TV and watched Jess walk out of the room to reheat his dinner in the kitchen. He rubbed his chin. Something didn't sit right. Just because his wife said it was okay to cheat, didn't make it right.

'A weekend? A whole weekend with another woman? Why would Jess think I would entertain the idea of fucking someone else? Just thinking about it makes me feel incredibly guilty! Melinda sure has a messed up way of keeping Tom happy.'