She smirked to herself, watching the lights of Pittsburgh streaking past the windows. The city felt vibrant and colorful as they drove through downtown, its streets like throbbing veins delivering life.

Tonight she’d altered the bounds of her marriage forever, and there was no going back. They’d made a crease that could never be ironed out, and more were likely to come. Folds, turning pretty paper into origami, shapes emerging, seam by seam, his instructions, her hands, two dimensions becoming three.

They might end up with a perfect swan or a torn and crumpled wad, but either way, they’d find out together.

CHAPTER SIX

The front door bolt snapped downstairs, and Mike hastily set aside the book he’d been browsing. Or rather, the book whose pages he’d been staring at while his brain buzzed with memories and fantasies and conflicting thoughts.

He left on the light but turned onto his side, pretending to have nodded off. He listened to soft sounds below in the kitchen, then the guest bathroom. He wondered what, if any, accessories Sam would add tonight – a taste of latex between her legs or the slick evidence of lube, something to deepen the erotic, electric jealousy already sizzling in Mike’s body.

Her heels clicked down the hall and up the stairs. The floorboard squeaked, then her steps went silent as she entered their carpeted bedroom. Mike sat up and leaned against the headboard, feigning bleariness. “There you are.”

A faint smile, its guilt pure pantomime, he trusted. “Here I am.”

“That must have been some bridal shower,” he said, improvising.

She didn’t miss a beat. “You know how us girls get about that stuff. We ended up at a bar across town for cocktails.”

“But you had a good time?”

“Oh yeah, great time.” She yawned as she took off her necklace and kicked her heels beside the dresser. He admired her slim waist and lush hips as she shed her jeans and stripped away her shirt, ditched her bra, and pulled a long tank top over her head. It hid details Mike had long ago memorized – the mole just below her left butt cheek, the twin dimples above, the scar from her appendectomy. No man knew her body as well as he did, and no man ever would. Though perhaps one might enjoy the chance to take a tour.

“What did you get up to?” she finally asked, combing her fingers through her hair.

“Ordered Chinese, watched some TV. Read a bit, nodded off.”

“That sounds relaxing.”

“Would’ve preferred to spend my first real night of vacation with my wife.”

“Sorry, no boys allowed at bridal showers. No straight ones, anyhow.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Well, I’m bushed.” She tossed open her side of the covers and got underneath.

Mike settled next to her, stroking her arm. “I was kind of hoping… you know. We could kick off vacation week with some you-and-me time?”

“I’m really wiped out, honey. Sorry. Tomorrow, though. I promise.” She rolled onto her side, away from him.

Mike edged closer. There was no cologne tonight as a catalyst to spur their script forward. He ran his palm down her waist and settled it on her hip. “You sure I can’t change your mind?” He slid his hand forward to the front of her panties. She promptly pushed it away.

“Don’t,” she said, overly brusque.

“Why not?”

“I told you. I’m tired.”

“Can I maybe just touch you while I get myself off?” He edged his fingers under her waistband and she pretended to try to pull his hand away. His fingertips found her wet. Condemningly wet. Good girl.

“Well,” he said.

“Don’t.”

“You sure you don’t want to? Feels like you do.” He took his fingers back and put them to his lips as she watched, tasting the bitterness of latex and lubricant, just as he’d hoped. He frowned even as his cock pounded, and he made his voice stern and cold. “Sam.”

Her eyes were wide with fake fear or innocence. “What?”

“Who was he?”

“Who was who?”

“Who do you think? The guy you clearly fucked tonight.”

Her mouth opened and closed, then she slumped in defeat. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it? Do our vows not matter, either, then?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “I just met him. At the bar, and all the girls were heading home. He bought me a glass of wine.” And fuck, Mike could picture that scene perfectly now. Picture the man, his rival.

She sighed. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”

“But something did. Again, Sam? Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Just a quickie, back at his place. Don’t be angry – it didn’t mean anything.”

“Means something to me. Your husband.” Mike dropped the anger from his tone, leaving only hurt in its place. He let her know that Act I was over, the accusation done. Time for Act II – humiliation.

“It won’t happen again, I promise. It was just one of those things. He was just… I couldn’t help it.”

“What’s his name?”

A pause. “Bern.”

Oh yes, Bern. It was nuts how much sharper the edges of Mike’s kink felt, just knowing she hadn’t made that name up. It cut him to ribbons, knowing exactly what the guy looked like, and exactly what he looked like flirting with Sam, standing between her knees. It made the jealousy and anger stronger, but it did the same to the pleasurable feelings, and his misgivings stood no chance of winning out.

Maybe he was a pervert or a head case, but goddamn, he wanted these things. He wanted her to fuck that man. Deep in his heart he feared their charade would become reality – she really would favor some stranger over Mike and he’d lose her. He’d lose her, and it wouldn’t be the actions of the cruel, heartless woman she pretended to be for him. He’d lose her to a man she liked more, and it’d be Mike who’d shoved her into his arms. He felt his cock soften. Sam sensed the change and she turned over, eyes full of sincerity and concern, their game paused.

“Mike?”

“Sorry. My head got the better of me for a second.”

“Tell me.”

He sighed. “The jealousy. It feels different when there’s an actual guy involved. Not night-and-day different, but more real. With way higher stakes.”

Her gaze dropped to his chin and she ran her fingertips along his collarbone. “You know I’d never actually leave you for some other guy, though, right?”

“My brain knows that, yeah.”

“I can only be honest with you… Tonight was a turn-on. He was a turn-on, and so was the thought of the three of us taking things into this room someday.”

Mike swallowed.

“But you know what else was hot about it?”

“What?”

“Knowing you were watching. And thinking that what I was doing was getting you off. Thinking about how maybe taking things further would, like, blow your mind. You were right there in my head, as much of a part of it as he was. I was flirting with him, but I hoped it was driving you just as crazy.”

He smiled at that, all these things he’d needed to be told without even knowing what words could articulate them. There was nothing wrong with craving reassurance. He’d be inhuman if he didn’t need a little. He kissed her forehead. “Thanks. That’s nice to hear.”

“And, incidentally, you’re sexier than he is. He’s hot, but let’s be honest – you’re the man I married, and I didn’t settle.”

“Good.”

She stroked his chest and arm, hands admiring in their familiar, flattering way. Her brown eyes met his. “You feel like making regular old married-people love? Just you and me and nobody else?”

Just Sam, he thought, kissing her lips. He ought to let her know more often, she was enough, without their games. She was plenty. She was a feast.

“I’d like that very much, Mrs. Heyer.”

CHAPTER SEVEN