“Nine thirty is extremely late isn’t it? Can you believe some people actually come home after that? I wonder how they live with themselves...”

“You’re the one who suggested six o’ clock.” He pulled out my chair and moved in front of me. “Have a seat.” His voice was firm.

“Are you trying to intimidate me, Jonathan? On our anniversary?”

“Have a seat, Claire.”

I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms, waiting for him to stop looking at me like he wanted to bend me over. “I’m not intimidated by you right now.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against mine. “You should be.”

My eyes widened and I sank down into my chair.

I watched him light the tall candles that were spread around the room, watched him grab the champagne bottle and glasses and bring them over to me.

He kept his eyes on mine as he popped the bottle open and poured each of us a glass.

“To the stubborn love of my life.” He leaned against the table and placed a glass in my hand. “Next year we’ll be celebrating our wedding anniversary, but for now, cheers to—”

“The first day we said I love you,” I whispered.

He kissed my cheek and motioned for me to finish my glass, smiling as he drank every drop.

“I made dinner.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek again. “Would you like to eat now?”

“There’s another option?”

“There’s always another option.” He reached for my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “But for your sake, I think you should eat first.”

“Jonathan... ” I couldn’t read him tonight. There was something going on in his mind—something I desperately wanted to know. I’d told myself to keep it together on my way home, but he’d made me wet as soon as he hit the lights.

“Yes, Claire? Were you going to say something?”

“Right. I um—I need to change clothes before we eat. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re at home. Just take off your rain jacket. You won’t need your clothes for too much longer anyway.”

I stepped back. “I just want to get comfortable. It’ll only take me ten seconds.” I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed me by my waist and pulled the jacket off of me, dropping his jaw once it hit the floor.

I could literally feel his eyes taking in my scantily clothed body, feel him trying to hold back his shock.

He put his hands on my shoulders, looking me up and down. Then he sucked in a breath and narrowed his eyes at me. “Please tell me you took off your real clothes in the garage and no one else saw you wearing this today.”

I sighed. I was wearing an all-black lingerie set—a bra that was nearly see-through and lace string panties that had a silk bow on each side. The set also had garters and fishnet stockings that featured a thin, silk seam that traveled up the back of my legs and complemented my shiny red stilettos.

“Claire?” He was really trying to control himself. “I need you to answer me. Right now.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“It better not be.” He looked me up and down again. “Someone did see you in this today?”

“Yes, but—”

“Who?”

“My instructor. I’ve been...I’ve been taking lessons.”

“On how to cheat?”

“No...Dance classes—erotic dance classes...”

He blinked.

“It was Helen’s idea. She said it would help me be more aggressive in telling you what I want...”

He was silent for a while, and then his lips curved into a slight smile. “How long have you been taking them?”

“Four months...I was going to show you later.”

“Show me what?”

I blushed. Even though he and I had been intimate—beyond intimate, he still had the power to make me nervous whenever we discussed sex outside of having sex.

“You want to dance for me?” He twirled his fingers around my ponytail.

“After dinner...I need to change.”

“I don’t think so.” He clasped my hand and tugged me into the parlor room.

There was a small fire crackling in the fireplace and the lights were dimmed even lower.

“Where should I sit?” He looked down at me, grinning.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Of course not.” He kissed me. “I’m in awe. Tell me where to sit.”

“Over there...” I pointed to the burgundy chair that was in the corner.

He walked over to it, still holding my hand. “Am I allowed to touch you while you dance?”

I shook my head.

“I’m going to anyway.”

I let go of his hand and stepped back. “Give me your phone.”

He handed it to me and I entered the pass-code, smiling when I saw that he’d changed the wallpaper to another photo of us.

I logged into my email and found my performance song, the one the instructor said would work best.

I took my time unfastening his tie and placed it around my neck. I slowly undid the buttons of his shirt, moving my head away each time he tried to kiss me.

Once I got him out of his shirt, I slid my arms into it, re-buttoning every button, trying to ignore the heated looks he was giving me—the looks that made me want to stop and let him fuck me right now.

He sighed and I ran my hands all over his hardened abs—teasing him, pressing my mouth against each pec.

“Claire...” He pulled me into his lap, where I could feel his dick hardening in his pants. He cupped my face in his hands and brought my face close to his for a kiss, but I moved back.

“You’re not allowed to touch me...” I pressed my finger against his lips and looked into his eyes. “You’re not allowed to talk to me either. All you can do is sit there and watch.” I ran my hand against the huge bulge in his pants. “And when I get done, I might let you fuck me.”

He smiled and sat back in his chair with his eyebrow raised, already fucking me with his eyes.

Chapter 9

Jonathan

I watched as Claire stepped away from me, as she pulled the band from around her ponytail and tossed her hair back.

Within seconds, the song she’d selected began to play and soft, vibrating bass sounds filled the room.

She slowly lifted my tie over her head and seductively moved her hips. Then she brought the tie in front of her chest, twisting it between her hands, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

She struck the floor with it, biting her lip. “Is it hard for you to let me be in control for a change?”

“You’re not in control.” I smiled.

She put a hand on her hip and strutted over to me, leaning forward and whispering in my ear. “That question was rhetorical, Jonathan...Do I need to get you a dictionary so you can learn what that word means?”

I reached out to bend her over my lap, but she moved behind me and started massaging my shoulders—blowing kisses against my neck as her hands found their way down to my chest.

Just as I was starting to get used to her soft rhythm, she moved her hands away and sashayed around me, slowly unbuttoning the white dress shirt.

When she reached the last button, she playfully opened the shirt to show off the black ‘fuck-me’ lingerie, then she closed it again. She repeated this at least six times, until she finally slid the shirt off her body and tossed it across the room.

As the song reached the second verse, she dropped down to the floor, and stretched her legs up to the ceiling, spreading them into a wide “V.” Then she brought her legs together again and bent them, bringing them close to her chest before she flipped her whole body over.

Seductively smiling, she sat up on her knees and ran her hands across her breasts—squeezing them and shutting her eyes.

I was trying my hardest not to get up and grab her, desperately trying to keep my hands at my sides as she continued to smirk at me and move across the floor.

“Something wrong, Jonathan?” She stood up and dragged one of the bar’s chairs a few feet across from me. “You’re not usually this quiet...” She sat on the chair with her back facing me and rolled her head around, tossing her hair all over. Then she bent all the way backwards, using her hands to brace the floor, and before I knew it she’d flipped over and was crawling up into my lap.