The Other Man (West Coast Hotwifing) (14 page)

* * * * *

Spence’s mouth watered for her, not the steak in front of him.

“My husband picked out the dress.”

Spence had planned a special evening, even worn a tux, and told her to dress up, too. The neckline plunged deep into her cleavage. Two straps held the dress together at the shoulders, then the velvety black material fell in drapes over her breasts in front and bared her to the waist in back. From there, the skirt flared over her hips and rode mid-thigh. She’d accented with black hosiery and black suede high heels that put her at his height.

“Your husband has good taste.”

She smiled seductively. “I should hope so since he chose me.”

“In that, his taste is above compare.”

“Sweet talker,” she said, but her cheeks blushed at the compliment.

Did she realize how heartfelt the words were?

He’d chosen to dine at the country club a few miles from his home. The restaurant was quiet, the dining room large, the tables far apart, and the wait staff unobtrusive. He’d requested a booth with high backs, the bench seat round so that he could sit close enough to touch her thigh with barely a stretch of his arm beneath the cover of the tablecloth. Though the restaurant was full, the height of the booth provided privacy. A candle flickered in the middle of the table, and the aroma of a single rose in a bud vase perfumed the air. Or perhaps that was her sweet scent.

“I speak only the truth,” he told her. He could sweet talk when he wanted to, but the word implied the compliment was flattery. With her, he didn’t have to make up a thing.

“He chose the lingerie, too.”

His blood pumped faster through his veins. He dropped his gaze to the vee of her dress. “It doesn’t appear there’s much lingerie under there.” The back of the dress was lower than the front, and there’d been no hint of a bra.

Brazenly, she put his hand high up on her thigh. “Down here,” she said softly. “Stockings.”

He eased up the soft material of her dress. “Garter belt or thigh-highs?”

She arched a brow. “I’m so glad you’re familiar with women’s lingerie. Thigh-highs.”

He lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile. “Panties?” Part of him hoped she was bare, the other part wanted a scanty, sexy bit of lace he could ease aside.

“Thong. Barely there,” she told him. “My husband went shopping today and surprised me with what he wanted me to wear for you.”

“That’s fucking hot.” Her husband had wrapped her up like a present.

“He also prepared me for you.”

He raised a brow. “Now that sounds intriguing. Tell me more.”

“He shaved me.”

“Fuck. Your pussy?” It was incredible to think that the husband would go to such lengths to prepare his wife for another man. He was hard, his balls aching.

She nodded. “He put on my lotion, did my makeup, and helped me dress, too.”

Like a eunuch in a harem. Although it was probably the maid servants who performed those functions while the eunuchs stood guard. Nevertheless, it was tantalizing to imagine her husband preparing and anointing her.

She leaned close, mesmerizing him with her scent, and murmured in his ear. “He even put a dab of warming liquid on my clitoris. I’m so wet right now, I can’t think straight.”

“I should have fucked you the moment you showed up at my house.” He wished he had.

She breathed deeply, her breasts plumping. Beneath the soft fabric, her nipples pearled enticingly. “Put your hand on me.”

He didn’t need further invitation, sliding beneath the skirt. Wrapping his hand around her thigh, he pulled her leg over his, spreading her. “Your salmon’s getting cold,” he said. “Eat.”

She obliged him knowingly, picking up her fork and flaking off chunks of fish.

Beneath the tablecloth, he stroked the crotch of her thong, finding her warm and moist. “Christ, you’re wet.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this for three nights.”

So had he. But he hadn’t dreamed of
this
. Caressing, he pressed deeper into her cleft. Her clit was so hard, he could feel it under the pad of his finger.

Taking a bite of her salmon, she moaned, using the food as a cover. Anyone looking would think she was savoring the fish delicacy. “Oh, that’s so good.” She opened her eyes, spearing him with an electric gaze. “I’m so hot, I could go down on you right now in front of everyone.”

She was bold and brazen tonight, and that made him harder. He could actually feel a vein pulsing in his cock. Ready, waiting to pounce. If he wasn’t careful, they’d be doing it in the car before he even got her back to his place.

“Don’t you want dessert?” he asked.

“You
are
dessert.” She forked more salmon into her mouth and murmured another pleasure sound as if the meal was out of this world.

He circled her clitoris through the thong’s material. Her fingers tightened around the fork in her hand. “Be careful,” she whispered, “or I might scream.”

“I know you can come quietly if you want to.”

She shook her head, her hair flowing like silk over her shoulders, across her breasts. “When I come, I don’t want to be quiet. I want to shout.”

“So you’re saying you want me to stop.”

“I’m saying you should finish your dinner so you can fuck the hell out of me.” She enunciated softly but clearly, for anyone who might want to read her lips.

“Yes, ma’am.” He slowly withdrew, then picked up his utensils to work on his steak.

She let out a long, satisfied sigh. “We should get to the matter at hand.”

“I
was
to the matter at hand.”

She pursed her lips in mock irritation and kept her voice low. “I mean about why we’re having this dinner date.”

“So I could fuck you,” he said in an equally soft tone. The conversation didn’t need to be overheard.

She batted his arm. “No. So we could discuss what my husband would like.”

Fuck her husband. He didn’t care. He wanted her all to himself. Then again, the husband made everything hotter with his kinky predilections. “Fine. Tell me what he wants.”

“He wants to watch.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course he does.”

“He wants to video it.”

“Naturally.” She’d said she’d never done this close to home before. The husband was probably dying for it, so he could insinuate himself into the action.

“You’re okay with the video? I mean, we won’t put it on the Internet, but your face—”

“Will be in it,” he finished for her, “and I don’t care.” He seriously doubted her husband would risk putting her on the Internet.

“This next part is a bit kinky.” As if the rest of it wasn’t. “He’s going to be hiding in the closet. So we won’t acknowledge him until he comes out.”

He laughed loud enough to turn some heads. “He’s one freaky guy. But if that’s what he wants, I’m game.”

She rushed the last out. “Then he wants to lick your come out of me after you’re done.”

He stopped, knife and fork in mid-cut. Did she get what that meant? The thought of taking her flesh against flesh started his heart thudding. “He wants me to do you bareback?”

She nodded.

“You’re fine with that?” For all she knew, he could have screwed a dozen women without a condom.

Her gaze dipped to her plate for the briefest of seconds. If she was embarrassed, she didn’t let it stop her for long. “We can take the necessary precautions beforehand.”

“Testing.”

“I will.” She nodded as if her answer needed a punctuation mark.

Christ, he would, too. Now that she’d said it, he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. To sink inside her, warm flesh, no barrier. Hell, yes. “I’m all right with that.”

She let out a little laugh. “There, I’m glad that’s over.” Then she sighed. “I won’t be with anyone else. Just you.”

“I’ll do the same.” It was like they were making vows. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. “How long will this last?”

Her eyes sparkled as brightly as the morning on the plane when her jacket threw prisms across the cabin. “As long as we want.” She gave him a studied look. “For every hotwife, there’s the other man. I’d like you to be mine. Until we both decide we don’t want to do it anymore.”

Fuck, yes. He wanted it, needed it. He’d let her husband make any kind of video he wanted. He’d take her, fill her with his seed, let the man lick his come out of her. Because she would belong more to him than to her husband.

* * * * *

Having Keith prepare her had actually made her nervous as hell. When she’d gone on trips and he’d helped her pick out lingerie to wear, it was sexy. But somehow, preparing for Spence was different. Why, she couldn’t pinpoint, it simply was. But telling Spence what Keith had done made it worth every moment she’d submitted to her husband’s ministrations. Her pussy was close to bare, and driving in the car, the warming liquid had heated her to near combustible. She’d wanted Spence to drag her into his house and fuck her right then. But they’d had dinner first, flirted, gotten sexy under the table. It had stoked her fire for the drive back to his place.

“Touch me,” he said in a harsh voice lacking his usual cocky tone.

Traffic wasn’t heavy, and they were moving fast enough on Foothill Expressway that no one would notice. Zoe reached across the car’s console to cup his cock. God, he was scrumptious in the tux; she wanted him out of it. “Why, Mr. Benedict, you’re exceptionally hard.”

He laughed, though with a strained hoarseness. “That’s why I rushed you out of the restaurant.”

They’d skipped dessert and coffee. He hadn’t even finished his steak, and she’d left a quarter of her salmon. It pained her thrifty heart not to ask for a doggie bag, but he hadn’t given her time. When the bill arrived, he’d thrown down his credit card without looking. His eyes had been only for her.

“Now I see why you insisted on driving instead of having me meet you.” She insinuated her fingers between his legs and cupped him, squeezing until he groaned.

“I was afraid you’d unzip me right there in the restaurant and scar the other patrons.”

She gave him an extra squeeze for his impertinence. “I might be a slut, but I’m not stupid.”

He blew through a yellow light so he wouldn’t have to stop and she wouldn’t have to remove her hand. “Not just a plain slut. A pretty little slut.”

“Ah, the term of endearment.” This time she rewarded him with a stroke, working him inside his slacks. “Shall I unzip you now?” she whispered.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Yes, Christ, do it.”

She had him in her hand in two seconds flat, all that sleek, hard, delicious steel. One stroke was all it took for pre-come to bead on his tip. “Oh my, look at that. Maybe I should taste it.”

“Better do it quick,” he growled. “I have to turn in a two blocks.”

She bent to him, sucked his crown, savored the rich, salty fluid, then pulled back as he turned into his neighborhood. “That was better than the salmon.” She licked her lips.

“Fuck, you make me crazy.”

Just the way he’d made her crazy in the restaurant. She couldn’t believe she’d started it, begging him to put his hand on her. He’d been so eager to oblige.

She stroked him in her fist until the next turn onto his tree-lined street bordered by manicured hedges and clipped lawns. His cock pulsed a deep, needy purple. “I can’t wait to take all of you in my mouth.” She looked up, grinning devilishly. “And suck you dry.”

“Vampire.” He put his hand on hers. “Better zip me up for the time being.”

She did as they passed a house, its driveway clogged with three bikes and a tricycle. The next was his, her car parked out front. He didn’t bother to pull into the garage. He was out and rounding the hood to open her door.

In addition to the hedges around the perimeter and flowering bushes next to the house, a leafy tree shadowed the neat lawn and obscured the front window from the road.

Holding her hand, he led her to the double front doors, unlocking one to usher her into a tiled entryway which opened onto a large living room. He’d barely closed the door behind them before he had her up against the wall. “Christ, you have me out of my mind.”

He devoured her with an all-consuming kiss that made her lose her mind, too. Her purse fell from her nerveless fingers to land with a plop on the tile. His hands were everywhere, her breasts, her stomach, pulling her dress to her waist. Then he crawled down her body, going to his knees in front of her.

“God, that’s sexy.” He licked her thigh just above the stocking. “Hold up your dress. I need to concentrate.”

She wrapped her arms around her middle, trapping the skirt. In the dim illumination of a skylight just inside the living room, his red hair was a deep, dark copper. He peeled her lace thong down and put his tongue to her.

Zoe moaned. He licked and sucked, then pulled back to look up at her. “I want your husband to see how hard you come while I lick your succulent little snatch.”

She loved the crude word combined with the sweet one. Another term of endearment.

Then he tore away the scrap of lace, exposing her fully. “I’m going to lick you until you scream. Put your leg up here”—he patted his shoulder—“so I can get at you.”

She curled her leg around him, and he went at her again until she felt so weak she had to brace herself with one hand on the wall. She rode the wave of pleasure, tipping her head back. Cupping her bottom, he held her close and open for his assault.

“Oh God, oh God, please.” She cried out the way he wanted. As the first orgasm hit, she had to anchor herself to him, bending double, her arms around his head.

Without knowing how he’d accomplished it, she was suddenly flat on the carpet in the opening of his living room, the moonlight streaming down through the skylight.

“Want you, gotta have you, need you.” Kneeling between her legs, he tore a condom packet and rolled on the latex with shaking fingers. “Take me.”

He fell on her as she wrapped her hand around him, guided him. He plunged deep, took her in a frenzy, swept her along. The second orgasm rolled through hard and fast, and he didn’t stop, prolonging the sensation with a relentless thrust. When she came the third time, she took him with her, dragging him down, arms and legs wrapped around him.