The room full of inveterate geeks perked right up at that. Except her, his Bizzy. Standing in front of the TV with the clicker in her hand, dressed to the nines in that slinky, sultry, body-cleaving black dress with the slit up the leg that went all the way past her firm thigh to her slim hip, the swooping neck parted just enough in the middle to show the inner curve of those perfect C-cups, even as the open arms gave a hint of the outer, with her golden hair up in that cascading…
Good god, snap out of it man. Chase laughed to himself and forcibly came back to reality. She probably won’t find it all that romantic if you drool in front of everyone, she’s weird that way. He more than appreciated how utterly devastating his wife had made herself for this get-together of their employees; it’d been weeks, maybe even longer, since he’d seen her wear more than sweats and a ratty t-shirt around the house. The vision before him now had him so revved up, he wasn’t sure he’d felt as much even on their honeymoon, four years previous.
The effect was enough that he seriously wondered if this was why Bizzy had been so standoffish these last weeks. Some kind of attempt at delayed gratification. If so, then he planned on showing her just what her experiment had produced the second their last friend was out the door tonight. He hoped that dress wasn’t too expensive, because there was no chance in hell that it would survive till next morning.
“Marvel… that’s a word you could use.” Bizzy tilted her head playfully, a little grin curling her ruby lips as her sapphire eyes danced. “Bootleg… sure, I guess. No shaky cam though, it’s pretty steady. I guess I’d personally call it a prequel, if you want to get technical, Chase.”
“Damn Elizabeth, you got us all on edge now.” Shane flashed that stupid smirk that Chase hated so much. The one that said he was in on a joke that no one else was. “Hit play!”
Chase tried not to let the cocky jerk get to him. In any workplace, liking every single one of your co-workers was pretty much unheard of, even in a company you and your wife founded yourselves. Neither of them could stand the man, but Shane was good at what he did. Not the best, that was Bizzy, followed by himself, but too good to let get away. Cyber Security was a competitive field, and losing even a small advantage could come back and bite them in the ass, especially in these early days.
At Shane’s encouragement, Bizzy flashed the man a bright smile and a grateful nod of her head, but she hesitated. “Chase, you should do the honors.” She extended her arm and proffered the clicker.
“Very mysterious.” Chase chuckled as he put down his glass and took the remote. He paused as it occurred to him that, twice now, Bizzy had called him Chase, and not Cheese, her long-standing nickname for her husband. That was a new one. Ever since the first day they’d met in high school, when he’d cracked the worst joke anyone in history had ever heard, he’d been Cheese to her. Little odd…
Oh well. All part of her plan, he was sure. In the meantime, he could play along, and did so, pressing play as he aimed the remote at their smart TV and whatever it was she’d uploaded to it.
His first thought as the… well, the porno… began to play was; holy shit, she’s really jumping the gun here! Wait till we’re alone, Bizzy!
Then came his second when he got a better look at the pair on the bed. He knew that bed. It was his bed. What. The. Fuck.
Chase spurted out the first thing that came to him, heedless of being far from alone with his wife. “Bizzy, why are two strangers having sex in our bedroom?”
“Strangers?” That single word was pure ice, and Chase thought he could almost hear her teeth grind together. “Strangers!?”
Chase, utterly confused about every aspect of what was happening, looked back to the screen. The lighting was not great, and there were a lot of shadows, but he could make out a man turned away from the camera, head off-screen, in good shape but pretty nondescript all in all, and a woman with dark hair veiling her face who was on her hands and knees getting it from behind. She also could have been anyone, except for a birthmark in the rough shape of Mickey Mouse, of all things, on her taut, rippling ass. Even on a third look, Chase had no idea who either of them were. “…yeah. Strangers. Bizzy, what the hell–”
“You’re watching two people fuck on our bed, using our secret naughty-time camera, and you have the motherfucking gall to call them strangers!” The shriek from his heretofore kindhearted wife was all the shriller from being the only sound in the suddenly dead silent living room. Well, dead silent except for the over-the-top soundtrack provided by the literal fuckers on the screen. They at least were pretending to have fun, if no one else was.
“Damn you, Chase Ventris. Damn you to every stinking hell that’s ever been imagined. I can’t believe you’re going to stand there and act like you haven’t destroyed every good thing in our lives by sticking your dick in whoever that slut is! Goddamn you!” Bizzy’s eyes were shining with tears by that point, born of rage, despair, and probably a few emotions that had been invented on the spot.
“You think that’s me!” Chase sputtered, and this time the drool actually did make an appearance. He was absolutely floored by her words. Her unadulterated hate.
“Just shut up.” Bizzy began pacing and waving her arms dramatically. “When that note was slid under my office door two months ago, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it. I mean, it was a hand-written note! On paper! Who does that? It had to be a joke. It told me to check the time stamp from a camera no one else should have known about. So I humored my mystery prankster and looked it up; December 20th at… whatever 1400 is. Then I wanted to die.” She nearly spit then. “What happened Chase, did you piss off your whore enough for her to get some revenge? Maybe you were so pathetic in the sack, she had to teach you a lesson. That’s our guess.”
Ignoring the increasing tempo of the people who were about to ruin his life with their badly-faked cries of passion, Chase shook his head vigorously. “Bizzy, that isn’t–”
“No! You don’t call me that! Not anymore… you… you killed Bizzy.” Despite her accusations and the words that were custom-made to rip his heart out, the look of utter sadness in her eyes nearly overwhelmed him, and he actually took a step towards her, dropping the clicker to the floor and holding arms out to enfold her. To comfort her as he’d done so, so many times before. When she lurched back, he could feel the knife twist in his chest.