“Well,” he said heavily. “I’ll miss you that night. But girls’ time is important, I guess. Go out and have your fun.”

She smiled, feeling perfectly sinful. “Thank you. I’m sure I will.”

“Sam.” Bern stood from his seat at the bar and they shared a brief hug.

Just that little sample of his strong body had Sam’s humming. She stepped away, flushed, and rubbed his arm. “Hello, stranger.”

They weren’t strangers anymore, though – she could feel it in their embrace. She took in his scent and the shape of his body, and all the nerves she’d felt when she stepped through the bar’s front door disappeared. Bern right here before her, Mike somewhere behind her, watching. The two men had her blood pumping this hard, and damn, it was thrilling.

“Thanks for meeting me again,” she said. “Can I get you a drink?”

He waved the offer away, and she realized what a silly idea it was. She may have orchestrated this evening, but she wasn’t its hostess. Bern was her official alpha male, and he must be allowed to lead. He was going to seduce her, hands firmly on the wheel.

“Cabernet, right?”

She remembered all her erstwhile fantasy men, all the drinks she’d pretended to have ordered for her. “You choose.”

The bartender came by and Bern gave him orders Sam couldn’t hear. She felt her eyebrows rise with some surprise when Bern handed her a glass of red wine.

He shrugged an apology. “I don’t really know anything about cocktails, sorry. I’d hate to order you something horrible.”

“This is perfect.” And it was. She sipped the dry red and it tasted how the evening felt, dark and ripe. Rousing. Familiar now, the taste of her would-be lover, here in their bar. This man who knew what she drank.

“Is he here?” The low hum of his deep voice warmed her blood as surely as the wine would.

She nodded. Bern may as well glimpse the man who could very well be watching them fool around by the end of the night. The man who was lending Sam out for Bern’s pleasure, essentially. “He’s at a table, to the left of the door. Black T-shirt.”

Bern’s gaze left her face a moment to search. He turned back, blinking madly. “Really?”

She smiled at that. “Really. Is he not what you’d expected?”

“He looks like what your ad was asking for.”

“Looks like,” she allowed. “But in his head, when we’re playing, he’s different.”

“Must be. He looks like a…” He stole another glance. “A bouncer.”

“He’s in law enforcement.”

Bern spoke through a laugh. “Fuck me.”

She grinned and took another sip. “That’s the idea.”

“Have a seat,” he said suddenly, but he didn’t join her. Sam sat with her back to the bar and Bern stood between her knees, like last time. But tonight she’d worn a dress – a plum-colored jersey A-line, nothing showstopping, yet it felt luxurious as her bare calf glanced Bern’s clothed one. A warm shiver trickled down her arms when she imagined him stepping forward, driving the fabric back, pressing himself hard against her center. She hoped Mike was watching, and that a similar thought had his cock growing heavy and hot, any pang twisting in his heart purely part of the game.

Bern spoke softly, leaning in so she could hear and making the air between them feel close and intimate. “So when you take me home tonight – or when I take you home to your place – how will it work? He leaves first so he can be ready to watch us?”

She nodded. “We’ve got a signal worked out. I’m supposed to put a specific song on the jukebox, and that’s his cue to head out.”

“What song?”

She grinned. “Springsteen. ‘I’m on Fire.’ ”

“A classic.”

“That song makes me shockingly easy,” she admitted.

“Good to know.”

She took a deeper swig of her drink, hot plumes inching through her veins in thick pulses. She needed a decent buzz for when the time came to leave with Bern, that chemical permission slip that let her ignore the troublesome voices trying to undermine her resolve. She was on the highest board, in her suit and goggles with the cameras poised to capture her dive. She’d be damned if she’d back out now… but that didn’t mean the jump should scare her any less.

Bern’s brows knitted. “Can I ask how long you’ve been married?”

“Together five years, married three.”

“What’s it like?” he asked, eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“It’s very… reassuring. The more comfortable I get with him, the better I know myself. And the more I like myself.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. It may not be terrifically thrilling, but it’s… It feels great, like a squishy old couch you can’t wait to sink into after a long day.” She laughed. “I’m not really making it sound very exciting, but I like it. I recommend it.”

“You don’t think it sounds exciting, being married to someone who wants to get up to crazy sex shit with you?” Bern asked in an elevated whisper.

“Oh, well, yeah, you’re right. I take it back. It is pretty exciting. I guess I was thinking more about lazy Sunday mornings.”

“Not lurid Wednesday nights, out picking up strange men?”

She raised her glass to that.

“Am I driving us later?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Nope, not at all. You worried about any neighbors spotting me, sneaking into your place?”

“Nah. You could easily just be a friend of ours.”

“A friend who shows up and suddenly there’s loud sex coming from your place ten minutes later?”

She laughed. “Ten minutes? A girl likes some wooing, you know. Aren’t you Southern men supposed to be all about the courting?”

“Okay, okay. Twelve minutes. Never let it be said I’m not a gentleman.”

She sipped her drink. “As for the loud sex, I can’t worry about what my neighbors might think. I can’t think too hard about any of this, or it’ll pull my head out of the… well, the performance.”

“That’s fair. Forget I mentioned it.”

“So, are you excited?”

“Of course I am.”

“Have you indulged your own kink at all before?” she asked quietly, gaze on the tempting V of skin and tease of soft-looking hair peeking between the two open top buttons of the navy henley he wore. Its collar was fine but she reached up to fuss with it, just for a chance to touch him. “Being watched?”

“No more than most people probably have, I guess. Mirrors. Video camera, a couple of times when I was younger, before the Internet made that seem like the worst idea in the world. But my ex got custody of that footage when we broke up, and I’m sure she destroyed it.”

“Probably wise. Have you ever – I don’t know – done it in front of an open window?”

“Not really. Well, once on vacation we did it on the hotel balcony, but it was night and I doubt anyone could see. I haven’t ever dated a girl who was into that stuff, and I’m not so obsessed with it that I made it a requirement.”

“Maybe you should. It’s really fun, being with someone kinky. I’m glad I am.”

He smiled. “That’s pretty charming of you. Though it seems like for every kinky or kink-friendly woman, there must be like fifty kinky guys. I think it’s important to be realistic. Though I do want to explore it more. I never really let myself prioritize it before. But all that got me was sexually frustrated, and feeling like an asshole for breaking up with perfectly nice girls who just couldn’t go there. And hadn’t known what I really wanted, from the start.”

“If it makes you feel any more hopeful,” she said, “your kink is pretty easy to accommodate. Just don’t fall in love with a girl with body image issues, and roll it out early on, and I’m sure you’ll at least enjoy tons of hot mirror sex.”

“Yeah. We’ll do our wedding registry at a home goods store – full-length mirror, ceiling mirror, mirrored headboard, one of those angled three-panel deals they have in dressing rooms…”

“Cheval,” she offered. “Magnifying? Hmm, maybe not.”

“Fun house.”