“Mike.”

He moaned his reply, eyes closing.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He sounded pained as he said it, but a happy pain.

Sam snaked an arm between them to tease herself, eager for the release that had been simmering inside her for so long. It took little more than her fingers’ deft friction and the spectacle of Mike unraveling above her to bring it all to a boil. She succumbed to an orgasm more deep and violent and animalistic than she’d ever have found the creativity to fake, a smaller tremor not far behind.

Mike kept his pace through her pleasure, determined.

“He couldn’t do that to me,” she told him, voice wavering.

“Only me.”

“Only you.” Perhaps Bern could be taught to make her come, but it’d take a lifetime for him to ever get close to knowing her as well as Mike did. She admired her husband’s body, thinking she’d never felt him this hard before. She made a circle with her forefinger and thumb, squeezing his shaft where it drove into her.

“You’re so big.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. You’re perfect.” She could tell him that now, and it felt good after all the make-believe. She was thankful there was still room in their sex life for praise and appreciation. It would hurt to feel she couldn’t ever watch him with open adoration when they fucked, lest she pop the bubble of his fantasy.

“You make me feel big, when you look at me like that.”

She kept her gaze on his cock as it disappeared again and again inside her hand and sex.

Relief bloomed inside her as the haze of the orgasm lifted. She’d given him what he’d wanted, and he’d liked it as much as they’d hoped. She’d liked it, and here they were, still enough for each other, just the two of them. She released his cock to cup his jaw with both hands, staring right into his eyes.

“Come for me, Mike.”

“I’m close.”

“Good. I want you to do what he can’t.” She meant come inside her, bare, as Mike well knew. It was much too soon to say whether their three-way chemistry might prove strong enough for Bern to join them regularly, and be allowed that ultimate trespass.

“Turn over.” Mike’s impatient hands guided the actions as she got to her hands and knees.

Jesus, she’d missed this. It had been Mike’s favorite position before the games had begun, perfect for a possessive man. He pulled her roughly into his thrusts, ownership resounding in every slap of skin and grunted male breath. In no time at all she could feel him losing control. The hammering of his hips forced her thighs wider, wider, until she lay flat on her belly, Mike sliding his hands beneath to cup her breasts, coming with a flurry of wild groans.

Kisses punctuated the spaces between his panting breaths, peppering her shoulder blades and the nape of her neck. She nudged him and he turned over, closing her in his arms as they’d done hundreds of times before. She felt his cock softening at the small of her back, felt his heartbeat pulsing at her spine, felt his come breaching her lips to wet her thighs. She smiled.

“Have I mentioned lately what an awesome wife you are?” he mumbled, sounding wasted.

“Probably. But you’re always welcome to say it again.”

He kissed her instead, a firm press of his lips to the crown of her head.

Sam sighed and flexed her toes. “I’m so glad that went well.”

“Me, too.”

“I wonder if he liked it.”

Mike’s soft laugh warmed her hair. “It sure looked like he enjoyed himself. Plus how could he not – he got to fuck around with you.”

“You flatterer.” After a long pause she added, “I can’t believe vacation’s already half over. Though no one can say we haven’t been making the most of it.”

“You know what I think?” Mike asked, shifting so she could twist around and face him.

She kissed his chin. “What do you think, Detective Heyer?”

“I think you should give him a call tomorrow. Or e-mail him. See if he’s free this Saturday night.”

“I’d be awfully insulted if he had a better offer.”

“Better than us? Impossible.”

She grinned at his confident tone. “We’ll just have to find out. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“You know what else I think?” he asked, voice turning low and seductive.

“What’s that?”

He kissed her nose. “I think we ought to order a pizza. I’m fucking starving.”

CHAPTER TEN

Late Thursday morning, Bern felt his cell buzz in his pocket. A dozen times in a given workday he might feel a new call or text stir at his hip, but rarely before this week had he been one to drop what he was doing to check whose name was gracing his phone. He eased the heavy spool of cable looped over his shoulder to the ground.

A little envelope winked at him from his screen. He opened it, pulse throbbing in his throat. A hopeful smile tried to hijack his lips as he saw Sam’s name at the top of the text, but he bit it back. No need for a coworker to bust him and ask what girl had clearly put such a shit-eating grin on his face.

Hello again, he read. Thanks for meeting up last night. We both had a great time, and were wondering if you might be free to hang out again this Saturday, around eight? Let me know!

He hit REPLY. Hello yourself. Saturday at eight sounds perfect. At the bar, or your place? Tell me if I should bring anything. Wine, condoms, camcorder, whatever.

Her answer came only a minute later and he pursed his lips to quell another smile.

Just your charming self. See you at our place at eight. E-mail if you need the directions.

The rest of the day passed in a horny blur, with Bern distracted by what was likely to go down on Saturday. He had been wiped out this morning, and not merely from skipping dinner, fucking around with a stranger’s wife, getting to bed late, and starting the workday at seven. By the time he’d made it home, all the relief of his orgasm had faded to nothing, and he wound up lying awake, replaying everything and theorizing about what might come next until past midnight, abusing himself with the embarrassing, boundless enthusiasm of a teenager.

Now he was… what? Fifty-eight hours from who-knew-what.

If he got his way, who-knew-what would consist of enjoying Sam’s gorgeous body again, and getting spoiled not only by her attention and the theoretical attention of her unseen husband, but maybe an actual, live, visible audience. Better than any mirror, and much safer than some video beamed off into the ether. And though it had never occurred to Bern that he might enjoy fucking somebody else’s woman while the guy watched, lately it was all he could think about.

Maybe he and Sam were alike in that respect – they’d gotten snagged by her husband’s kink like a snatch of catchy music, or a craving for a certain food once the aroma wafted past. Felt like he’d fallen under its twisted spell, and now he’d never come out of it unless the wish got granted, the curiosity satisfied.

Fifty-eight hours, he thought, hefting the cable back onto his shoulder. In fifty-eight hours all his borrowed fantasies might come true. Until then he’d be like a kid on Christmas Eve, dying of impatience, waiting to sprint down those steps and tear open his presents.

This was going to be a long-ass end to the workweek.

Sam barely touched her dinner on Saturday evening. She’d made chicken soup, and made it early so they’d have plenty of time to digest. Made it with less salt than usual so she wouldn’t feel bloated, picked it because it promised she wouldn’t wind up gassy or sleepy. Still, she spent much of the meal letting it spill from her spoon back into the bowl, barely half a serving making it past her lips. Mike’s hand crept across the breakfast bar to take hers. She thought he’d been watching the news playing behind her on the TV, but when she looked up, his face was full of concern.