“Can’t wait,” he said softly. “So you guys are comfortable with that?”

She nodded. “We’ll be keeping the tape. Or the file or whatever. No offense, we do trust you, but with us being married, and Mike’s job, we’d be way more fucked than you if it wound up on the Internet.”

“No, that’s fine. Of course.” He took another sip, nodding thoughtfully. “Plus, you know me —”

Yes, she supposed she did.

“I’d get way more out of you keeping it,” Bern said. “Out of you guys watching it. Just text me when you do, maybe.”

“Easy.” She clinked her glass against his, feeling smug and happy as a well-fed cat. “That’s why this is all such a perfect arrangement.”

An arrangement, yes. And arrangements ended, but when?

Not soon, Sam hoped, though they couldn’t go on forever. Bern was a good guy and an honest one, she believed, and she imagined that if he started dating someone else, he’d have the courtesy to break things off with her and Mike. So they’d lose him someday, and probably because he chose to end things. It gave her a pang, sharp with sadness and, yes, jealousy. Bit ironic, that. But she couldn’t imagine finding another man who fit the bill like Bern did, and knowing it couldn’t last was like knowing summer vacation would end with the start of school – an inevitability to be dreaded for the fun it ruined.

Caught up in the thought, she drained her glass more quickly than she’d intended. Such worries had no place in her head tonight, though. Why spend every decadent bite of a slice of cheesecake worrying about one’s hips?

“You seem a little…” Bern trailed off, but his expression said he sensed her tension as plainly as he could taste the wine.

Her lips were ready to spew forth her insecurities, but she held them back. He’s your lover and your guest, not your husband. Not even your boyfriend. Zip it, and remember who this man is to you.

“You said you weren’t nervous,” he teased.

“I’m not. Just wound up, what with all the new stuff we get to do tonight.”

His expression brightened, only to darken as he smiled. He took a step closer, leaning on the counter and staring down at her, looking tall and hungry and devious. She thought he was going to have them toast yet again, but he merely brought the back of his hand to hers, rubbing their knuckles together. A funny bit of contact, familiar and affectionate. Sam swallowed a much-needed breath while Bern finished his wine.

When he spoke, it was scarcely more than a whisper, hot words falling from his tongue to heat her skin. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

“Anything.”

“When I leave here… like, every time I’ve ever left after we hang out…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m already hard again before I’m halfway home.”

Oh, she liked where this was going. “Okay.”

“I’m just saying, if you guys ever wanted round two, all you have to do is ask.”

“That’s very impressive.”

“You deserve as much credit for it as me,” he said. “I’ve been a sort of one-and-done kind of guy, since I hit my thirties. Until you.”

She glowed like a hearth. “It’d be a shame to waste it, then.”

“But I wanted to ask, in case, I dunno… I’d be lingering too long.”

“I’d be more worried that you’d be weirded out after you came. You know, like sobered up and maybe unnerved by my husband being there.”

“Hadn’t given it a second thought.” He smiled again, the gesture different from any Sam had seen him wear before. Not shy – sheepish maybe, happy-guilty. “I like that he’s there,” he added.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand what he gets out of me being with you, but I get an audience, you know? It’s like, I get your body, and let’s be honest, we’re pretty good at fucking each other.”

She blushed. “Hear, hear.”

“But him being there… I dunno. It takes everything and makes it five times hotter. No offense.”

“No, not at all. That’s a lot like what he said to me, after the first night you and I messed around. Like the fantasy had always gotten him hot, but seeing us actually together, it was like cranking the volume way up.”

He leaned in close, making Sam feel pleasantly small. “You want to get things started, maybe?”

She rubbed his sides then took a step back, nodding, tugging at the hem of his shirt to tell him to follow. She led him down the hall and upstairs. By the time they reached the bedroom threshold, the lead had changed, Bern now guiding her backward by the shoulders, plopping her onto the mattress with a gentle push. His attention flashed to the side, just for a moment – to the camera on its stand. Sam watched his throat work as he swallowed, and smiled to herself.

“Would you mind if I taped us?” she asked him coyly, as though she couldn’t guess. “Give me something to remember you by, the next time your job steals you away.”

“He could find it,” Bern warned, but his real reaction was evident in his parted, flushed lips, his slitted eyes.

“A chance I’m willing to take.”

“For you,” Bern said, stroking her cheek with his thumb, “anything.”

“Good.”

He left her to investigate the camera, seeming to get the hang of it easily. He crouched to check the frame, and Sam saw the little red light blinking. Showtime. She shot the lens a smile, then turned her attention to Bern, who came to stand between her legs once more. He loomed, broad hand brushing over the front of his jeans. “When’s he back?”

“Not for an hour, at least.” Right as she said it she heard that telltale creak, that old floorboard announcing Mike’s arrival at the threshold.

“He caught us once.” Bern’s gaze followed her hands as she stroked his thighs. “Twice would just be cruel.”

“Serves him right, him seeing what he’s been denying me. I ought to make him watch the tape – he could use the pointers.”

Bern smiled, looking amused by her cruelty. He cast the camera a moment’s hot stare. “We should at least give him a good show, then.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mike was burning alive, every heartbeat pumping lava. He braced his shoulder against the door frame, so overheated his muscles felt weak and his mind foggy.

Sam and Bern were kissing on the bed – that man’s strong body braced atop her soft one, his hips moving with subtle strokes and her hands exploring him in return.

Mike knew those hands, and the admiring way they moved over Bern’s back and arms. She’s turned on. She wanted this man, as much as she wanted Mike.

Outside this space, Mike trusted that his primacy was secure.

But inside this space…

He sank into his role, into his fantasy. Neck-deep into the humiliation and pain of discovering he was being outmanned, behind his back. And in his bed.

“Lemme see you,” Bern told Sam as he got to his knees between her legs. She peeled her shirt away while Bern stripped her skirt. The way he drew her legs up to get the thing off… the way he held them once the fabric had fluttered to the floor, with her ankles resting on one of his shoulders, stroking her thigh with a slow hand…

Mike’s own hand drifted. His palm was damp, catching on the cotton of his T-shirt as he touched his chest, his belly, then settled it over the front of his jeans. Even the muted touch needed to adjust his erection made him suck a breath; he was so hard and needy he felt faint.

Taste her, he wanted to say. He’d felt this urge every time the man had come over – the desire to dictate. To be a director in these matters, as much as the victim. That was an aspect of his kink he’d never registered before. But it made sense. For years he’d been fantasizing about being cheated on, and it was his imagination, after all, that controlled the other man’s actions. But Bern was real, and once the games were under way, he took his cues from his own cock. The lack of control only buried Mike deeper in that helpless sensation he craved.