Hidden Desires: A Love Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Normani Kordei Hamilton was in the prime of her life. At twenty-seven she was strikingly beautiful and seemed to have it all. She was a top literary agent in a successful company, had been married for four wonderful years to a handsome and successful man, and was entertaining the idea of having a baby.

Having come from a somewhat odd mix of African and French stock, she was five feet four with well proportioned curves that caused men and women alike to suddenly take notice in a way that made them all tingle uncomfortably. Her straight jet-black hair and deep brown eyes gave her an exotic quality that was irresistible. Those alluring eyes were what had drawn Michael Hamilton to her in the first place.

Normani was in her third year of college when she and Michael met. He was twenty five, three years her senior. They had a whirl wind romance, became engaged and shortly thereafter they were married. Michael found success in real estate and with a few well placed investments; they had managed to become financially comfortable.

Counting what Normani contributed to the finances they could be considered wealthy having a nice three bedroom house, each their own car, a vacation cottage and a small boat.

Though the romance was missing of late, the sex was still good though somewhat infrequent. Thinking about it on occasion, Normani just thought it was because of the demanding schedule they both kept. How wrong she was.

Arriving at her office promptly at eight, Normani was greeted by her assistant Greg. He was a handsome and dedicated young man of twenty two with a sharp intellect and unnerving wit. He was also openly and quite flamingly gay.

After a frustrating meeting, Normani was prepping for her main event of the day, an afternoon contract renewal for one of the company's major clients. Going through her files she realized that the all important contract was not with her. Thinking back, Normani realized that the contract was sitting at home on her desk.

Cursing herself for the mistake, she quickly had Greg clear her schedule for the hour it would take to run home and return with the file.

* * * *

The first oddity Normani noticed was that her husband's car was in the drive way. She didn't really think much about it because she usually left before him and thought that maybe he was carpooling.

The second hint was that the front door was locked but the alarm was off. Still Normani didn't see a problem. Perhaps he had left in a hurry so he didn't remember to turn it on.

Normani hurried across the living room to her office door. As her hand grasped the doorknob she froze. There was the distinct sound of her husband's voice floating through the halls.

Her office forgotten, Normani slowly moved to the back of the house to where the bedrooms were located. As she got closer, she could distinctly hear Michael's voice.

"Fuck yeah...That's it...Harder...Do it harder."

The bedroom door was opened slightly and as Normani peeked inside she felt the bile rise in her throat. There, reflected in the vanity's mirror was Michael on his hands and knees on their bed and a blonde woman with a strap-on, fucking him in the ass.

As Normani forced herself to look away, her rage was rising. She had a temper, a gift from her heritage but it was also tempered by the lessons learned from her grandmother.

She took a couple of steps back from the door. Breathing deeply she listened as her grandmother's voice passed through her head. She was reminded of her own inner strength, her personal honor and her independence.

She did not need to cause a scene; she would not shame herself in front of them by losing it. There would be time enough for that later. She blocked out Michael's voice and focused on her breathing. Then she concentrated on organizing her thoughts.

Killing him and his bitch was out of the question. Homicide was not the answer no matter how justifiable. Divorce was the only viable option but first, a little insurance was needed.

Steeling herself, Normani retrieved her smart phone from her pocket and set it to video record mode. She silently tipped the door open and aimed it at the couple, taking about a minute of footage. They were so into what they were doing that they didn't even notice her.

After getting as much proof as she needed she could have just left, but her pride demanded that she have her say. She secured the phone back in her jacket pocket then walked into the bedroom.

Her face was a mask of calm as she stood watching them.

"Having a good time Michael?" she asked her voice cold as a winter storm. The blonde screamed, nearly pulled out too quickly, and scrambled to cover herself as Michael turned pale.

"Ma—Ma—Mani," he stuttered, unable to think of anything to say.

"Don't bother Michael. There's nothing you could say. I want you gone by the time I get home from work. Take only what you own, you will be served with the divorce papers by the end of the week."

"Normani." He tried again but she was having none of it.

"Save it. I really don't care; after this I will not see you again. Contact Lauren if you have anything to say."

With that Normani turned on her heel, she walked out the bedroom, out the house and left. The reason for coming home suddenly forgotten, she drove on auto pilot to Lauren Jauregui's office. It wasn't until she was sitting on Lauren's small sofa that she began to cry.