“I’ll walk you out.” She waved her hand for him to precede her into the hall and downstairs.

Bern swung by the half bath, and then they loitered at the front door. Sam’s inclination was to kiss him good night, but she wasn’t completely confident in the gesture, so she rubbed his arm through his sleeve instead.

“Thanks so much for coming by,” she said, beaming a grateful, humble smile at him.

“Thanks for inviting me. Really.” He swept his fingers through her hair once, then seemed to think better of the familiarity, what with their audience now out of the loop. “If you guys want to keep going with everything, just know I’m down for it.”

“I know how to reach you.”

He nodded, then straightened, distancing himself from her as he flipped the dead bolt open. “Thanks again.”

“You too. Drive safe.”

He offered a wave, as good a parting message as Sam could have come up with herself. She returned it, smiling until she’d closed the door on his back. As she locked up, her heart tightened like a knot, hope weighted with fear.

Let him have loved it, she prayed as she started up the steps.

Please, God, let him have loved it.

CHAPTER NINE

Sam flipped off the lights and headed back upstairs. Mike’s name begged to burst from her lips, but she didn’t know for sure if they’d still be role-playing, if she was allowed to acknowledge that he’d been watching this entire time…

Her pulse was everywhere as she entered the bedroom – in her throat, pounding in her chest, and still thrumming between her legs, from Bern. Then as her eyes met Mike’s, her heart froze all together. He was leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and an intense, focused expression she couldn’t begin to read.

Say something. Please.

He didn’t. She didn’t dare flash a smile or say a word, just stood inside the door, hands clasped before her. After a long pause, he approached. He stopped in front of her, face still inscrutable, his gaze scanning her up and down.

“I wish you’d say something,” she murmured, wrecking any illusion he might be enjoying. “I need to know how you’re feeling.”

Still, he didn’t. He said nothing. Instead his hands rose, fingers tangling in her hair, and when he kissed her he felt a foot taller than the man who’d just left, his mouth driving every memory of Bern’s body and contact straight out of her head.

If she’d expected anything from her first kiss with Mike in the wake of the night’s events, it would have been neediness. Uncertainty. But there was pure, fierce possession in the stroke of his tongue and the press of his lips. She held his shoulders and welcomed it. Surrendered to it.

He ended that muscle-melting kiss after a thorough minute. Surprise had tamped down everything she’d felt, messing around with Bern, but as Mike stepped away, all the hot, antsy longing flooded back in, a fever consuming her body all over again.

He took her hand, rubbing her knuckles and glancing her wedding band. In a calm, neutral tone, he said, “Thank you.”

She couldn’t suppress a smile of relief. “You’re welcome. Did it feel how you wanted it to?”

He led her to the bed and they lay on their sides, facing each other with their knees locked. He stroked her hair and spoke to her collarbone or throat. “It felt… It felt like everything I feel when we’re just talking about it, but times a hundred.”

“But it wasn’t too much?”

“It wasn’t easy. The jealousy always hurts. And it hurt deeper than I ever would have guessed, this time.”

She frowned, a pang twisting in her chest.

“But the way the jealousy gets me hot, it did that just as deep. Jesus…” He laughed and shook his head, clearly at a loss for how to articulate it.

“Just tell me you don’t regret it.”

He shook his head again, then leaned close to kiss her, softly this time. Sweet and brief. “I don’t regret a second of it. Do you?”

“Only if you had. So no.”

With reassurances tendered, Sam relaxed. She didn’t have the emotional stamina to launch back into role-playing, and she sensed Mike didn’t, either. She wanted him to ease the ache Bern had left in her body, but only on an authentic Sam-to-Mike level – no games.

“So what was the hottest thing about it?” she asked, tracing the seam where his arm lay against his ribs.

“The stuff you guys said. And just seeing another man touching you. All the weird stuff that gets me off. Watching you enjoying another guy, more than me. Or pretending you do.”

“So we did a good job?”

Another laugh, candid with over-the-top disbelief. “Oh, you did a great job. And I’ll never tell him to his face, but he’s fucking good at this. I felt like we ought to be paying him or something.”

“Yeah, I was pretty impressed, myself.”

Mike smiled slyly. “What else about him impressed you?” He stroked the side of her breast, bringing a tight, tingling heat to her skin. He wanted a little taste of their game, but luckily nothing that demanded she pretend.

“I think he’s really attractive,” she said.

“He a good kisser?”

“Yeah. Different than you, but nice. It was strange, being with someone new after five years.” God forbid if Mike ever wanted a similar chance – she’d be loath to grant him one, hypocrisy be damned. “He doesn’t know me anywhere near as well as you do, obviously, but it was kind of sexy that he didn’t. And that I didn’t know what he likes.”

Mike scooted lower on the bed and brought his mouth to her cleavage, his words steaming her skin between glancing kisses. “What about when he went down on you?”

“Way different, but it felt really good. Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I faked it.”

His lazy kisses paused for a few thoughtful seconds. “Did you?”

“Yeah. It felt great, but he doesn’t know my body the way you do, and it didn’t seem like the scenario called for me to be giving him pointers, you know? I thought it’d be hotter to pretend he was utterly blowing my mind. I thought your fantasy would have him be just… perfect.”

“So he didn’t get you off?”

“No. But it was really hot. I wasn’t faking enjoying it.”

He’d gone quiet and still, and she stroked his hair, waiting as he examined his thoughts. She knew him well, and perhaps three times a week she watched this process – watched his expression go blank while he considered a choice that needed making or a piece of news that demanded digestion, turned a development around in his mind and decided how he felt about it.

After a minute’s silence, her curiosity elbowed her patience aside. “Is that disappointing, or a relief, or…?”

“I guess relief is the right sort of word. Or, I dunno… pride. I like that, knowing he can’t actually please you the way I can. Not right out of the gate.”

“Of course he can’t. You’ve been perfecting that art for years.”

“As long as it was still hot for you.”

“Incredibly hot. And in no small part because I felt you watching.” She traced his ear, then his jaw. “I was dying to know if you were touching yourself or not.”

“Not really. I had my hand clamped over my dick most of the time, and I really wanted to, but I was afraid I’d come after three strokes and then the watching wouldn’t feel good anymore.”

She smiled to herself and raked his scalp with her nails. “So you’ve really been suffering this whole time.”

“So bad it hurt. Like, fucking physically hurt.”

She slid her hand between them to palm him through his jeans, finding him stiff, making him stiffer with a couple of soft squeezes. Her own sex roused in response, pleasure gathering in her body like an angry fist. She was right back where Bern had gotten her, and here with her was the man who knew how to bring her home as no other ever had. “Did you want to watch him fuck me?”