At the end of the day, it wasn’t a kink he’d ever have chosen for himself. But you didn’t get a say, did you? And Mike was willing to bet most men didn’t experience the level of gratification he did when he indulged this strange facet of his sexuality and psyche – this intense, orchestral merging of his fears and aggression and his body’s most basic drives. He bet other men’s sex lives were like “Mary Had a Little Lamb” pecked out on a toy piano. His was a full-on symphony. Who could care how fucked it might look from the outside?

He eyed the clock, thinking he’d better finish his coffee and get to the station. Sam had the day off, to balance a string of late nights earlier in the week, and she was out jogging now. Mike’s day should be fairly dull. A case had just wrapped and he had mostly paperwork on his plate; a quiet enough Friday to round out the week. And that night, he and Sam had their guest coming over.

Guest? Or maybe something more akin to a partner of sorts. Bern had committed to them, after all – gotten his blood test results a few days before, as had they. Everyone was good to go. Bare.

Mike felt a heat wave move through him at the thought.

Quit it. He’d never get through the day’s admin if he allowed himself even a moment’s meditation on the things that might happen tonight.

He drained his mug, grabbed his keys, and headed for the door. Bring on the longest eight hours in history.

“Try it now,” Sam told her phone, and hit the RECORD button on the laptop.

After a pause, Bern said, “Oh! Hey, I see you. Say something, so I can see what the delay’s like.”

Sam turned around to face the camera on its tripod. “Something.”

Another pause. “Three or four seconds, maybe – not that it matters. Nice work. Even if you did need to call an electrician.”

“Only to test the connection, smart-ass.” Sam hit STOP on her computer, and the camera’s red light went dark. It had taken two hours – not counting the two trips to Best Buy to find the right cable – but she’d succeeded in getting the video camera to function through the computer. The entire point of which was tied to the evening’s appetizer course.

It was four thirty, and Mike would be wrapping work in an hour or so. Bern and Sam were going to be starting the night off on their own, but with Mike watching the feed on his phone, via a chat application. Sam had tried simply using the laptop’s webcam, but the video came out dark and bluish, and the sound sucked. In the end, it had been worth all the trouble. They’d be pretending that Mike had planted the camera to bust Sam and Bern in the act. A bit of a twist on the usual come-home-early-and-catch-them routine.

“I’ll head over, if it’s not too early,” Bern said.

“If you’ve got nothing better to do, go for it.” Sam liked when they had time to chat before the sex took over. It helped her ease into her role, loosened her up. And over the course of the past few weeks, she’d come to see Bern as a true friend, not merely a purpose-made playmate.

“Be there in thirty, then. Need anything?”

“Whatever you feel like drinking.”

“Cool. See you in a bit.”

“Bye.”

Nice. The camera was due to begin rolling at five forty-five – Mike was planning to drive home, then watch from his parked car before coming in. Sam smiled, imagining him shielding any visible excitement from the neighbors with a strategically positioned briefcase.

She was already groomed and ready to go, and once Bern arrived the two of them would have a half hour or more to hang out before the performance began. Maybe that made her hopelessly female, but Sam felt foreplay began well before any touching did. She wanted her lover’s warm, easy smile, and to be asked how her day had been in that disarming Kentucky accent. Wanted their glasses to clink before their lips ever met.

She tidied the living room, feeling happy and relaxed when the bell eventually rang.

As always, Bern just about filled the door – six feet-plus of tall, sturdy man, his handsome face always such a knock to the senses.

“Why, hello,” she said, feeling flirtatious, leaning in the jamb and blocking his way.

“Hello yourself.”

She could see on his face, he wanted to kiss her. Passersby wrecked that option, of course.

“Invite me in?”

“I dunno. What have you got there?” She nodded to the paper-bagged package in his big hand.

He unwrapped it, holding up a bottle of Malbec. Guileless man that he was, the price tag was still on it.

“Eighteen bucks? You may absolutely come in, then.” She stepped aside and he brushed past, bare arm glancing hers.

“Hope that wasn’t sarcasm.”

“I usually buy the big utility jugs that cost half that much, so no, not at all.” She took the bottle.

“You look great.”

“Thanks.” She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt dressed up with a long, funky necklace. “Nothing too fancy today. I’m in a three-day-weekend state of mind.”

“Doesn’t stop you from looking hot,” he said, toeing off his shoes. “No work for you today, then?”

“Nope. I put in forty hours, easy, by midweek. I earned it.” And maybe a couple of months previous, before the force of nature known as Bern Davies had entered their lives, the old Samira would’ve worked the full week anyhow. Her erstwhile priorities looked awfully boring, in light of these new extracurriculars.

“What about you?” she asked. “You get off early?”

“Not strictly speaking, but my schedule’s seven to three on this new project. Fine by me, even if my dog’s not impressed with the whole six-o’clock-walk situation.”

Sam led him to the living room and poured them each a glass, the scene feeling familiar and easy as the arrival of summer itself.

“So,” Bern said with a poorly stifled smile. “No condoms tonight.” Not a question.

“Looks that way.” She set her glass aside and put her hand on his forearm – just a little taste of flirtation. As much as she felt comfortable with, with Mike not yet watching. “But you get a say, of course.”

She knew Bern’s answer already. They’d had a delightfully filthy exchange when Sam wrote to confirm their tests had come back with a big thumbs-up, same as his. What had that e-mail from Bern said, the one that’d had Mike yanking Sam’s top off before they’d even staggered from the computer to the bedroom? I’m gonna fuck you so good, I’ll have you begging me to shoot you full of my come. Bet your husband will like that – tasting just you and me when he eats you out after.

Her pussy heated all over again just remembering those words.

“Can’t wait.” Bern nodded to her glass and Sam picked it up so he could clink them. “Cheers to that, huh?”

“And how.” They drank.

“How long have we got?” he asked.

“Before we kick off the fun?” She eyed the DVD player’s clock. “Almost a half hour.”

“Good. That gives me plenty of time to grill you before we get down to business.”

Sam’s smile surely only expressed half the pleasure that was warming her body. She’d come to find this man no less than fascinating in the two months she’d known him, and she’d stopped overthinking the crush and given herself permission to revel in it.

“Grill me?” she asked, flattered to imagine he might find her even half as intriguing. “About what?”

“Anything.” He laid his arm along the back of the couch and crossed his legs. “I have no doubt you’re just as interesting as your fucked-up husband, but precisely how, I’m not yet sure. But I want to find out.”

Sam blushed. “What’s brought that on?”

He smiled, the gesture a touch guilty. “A few of my coworkers have started asking questions. Apparently I must look like a guy who’s been getting some.”

She laughed. “Busted, huh?”

“Guess so. Anyhow, they asked who the girl is, and I kept it real vague. But the more they rib me, the more I can’t help but realize I don’t know all that much about you. I mean, we know each other real well in some ways, but not the basics.”