Selected Praise for

Kayla Perrin

Erotic Fiction

Getting Even

“This story of exquisitely plotted revenge will have every woman who has ever been ‘done wrong’ quietly cheering.… This is sexy erotica.”

—Library Journal

“Getting Even is one wild ride!…Perrin is an author who belongs on your must read list. Don’t miss Getting Even!” —Romance Reader at Heart

“[A] writer that everyone should read.”

—Eric Jerome Dickey

Getting Some

“A very highly erotic, captivating tale…the sex scenes are plenty and burn-your-fingers-off-the-page hot & steamy.”

—RAWSISTAZ Reviewers

“[This] solid, enjoyable novel…takes the reader down

an intriguing emotional path, from sorrow to ecstasy and

back again—it was well worth it.”

—Romance Reader at Heart

“Ms. Perrin goes all out with this story as she enters a world of eroticism… definitely a roller-coaster ride that had me hooked

from the beginning…definitely worth reading.”

—Romance in Color

Obsession

Kayla Perrin

This book is for my editor,

Susan Swinwood.

Thanks for your faith in my

stories and all your support!

prologue

The tip of the feather inched its way along my bottom lip. Such a light, wispy touch, but it sent a jolt of heat through my body, causing me to part my lips and emit a shuddery moan.

Another stroke. This time across my upper lip. My naked body quivered.

Quivered with anticipation of the pleasure that was to come.

The feather traveled lower, over my chin, then crossed the expanse of my neck from left to right. Right to left. All with agonizing slowness.

Then it stopped. Abruptly. Five seconds went by. I held my breath, waiting for what would come next. The blindfold over my eyes prevented me from seeing, but also heightened my sense of excitement. I could hear every sound in the room, smell everything. Mostly, I heard only my own raspy breaths and the whirring of the ceiling fan above the bed. But I could smell the desire in the room, clinging to drops of warm moisture in the air. I could smell the sweat dampening his skin. The scent was musky and heady.

And arousing.

When the feather caressed my left nipple, my body jerked, making my wrists and ankles pull against the ties that bound me to the bed.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I responded, surprised to find my voice faint. “Yes,” I repeated, louder this time.

Once again, nothing. My hips writhed. I groaned softly. I was eager for his touch now. Desperate for it.

“Patience, bella,” he murmured.

“Easy for you to say,” I told him. “You have total control over my body right now.” Total control over my pleasure.

“Have I disappointed you before?” he asked.

“No,” I answered honestly. “Never.”

“And I will not disappoint now.”

The feather touched down between my rib cage, then traveled south, where it dipped into my belly button. It continued its lazy journey into my strip of pubic hair, then stopped—just when I wanted it most.

I whimpered. “Please, don’t make me beg.”

He didn’t say a word. Several seconds passed and nothing. I strained to hear past the woo-woo sounds the ceiling fan was making.

Soft footfalls on the carpet, then the creaking of the bedroom door.

What? Was he leaving me here?

I counted ten more seconds, and when he didn’t return, I began to struggle against the ties that bound me. The headboard rattled as I pulled and yanked. Futilely. The knots were too tight, preventing my escape.

And then I heard the sound of footsteps again. He was coming back into the room. I exhaled audibly.

“Look at you,” he said. “Your body writhing. Did you think I was going to leave you here while I went and watched a baseball game?”

I didn’t answer. I suddenly felt foolish. I had been afraid that he’d left me here, totally exposed and helpless to escape until he freed me. I’d been under his complete control before, yet this was the first time I’d felt such a moment of panic.

Why?

Because he seemed different today. From the moment I’d arrived, I could sense a certain intensity level in his looks and his touch.

Something darker.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” he said. “I would never leave you. You and I, we’re connected in a way we can’t control.”

I swallowed. Did I sense something ominous in his tone? Or was I a little unnerved because I was bound and blindfolded?

How could a person be unnerved and extremely aroused at the same time?

“Do you trust me?” he asked. He was very close to me now. Maybe a foot away. I could tell by the sound of his voice.

I gyrated my hips, a motion that would please him, given the view he had of my pussy with my legs spread the way they were. “Touch me,” I said. My chest heaved with each breath. “Touch me before I die.”

“Do you trust me?” he repeated, and I felt the weight of his body on the bed, but I couldn’t tell where he was.

“Yes. Yes, I trust you.”

“Completely?” he asked, his warm breath suddenly tickling my clitoris, and my God, I almost came.

“Yes, yes. Completely, I trust you. Please touch me. Baby…”

I cried out when something cold and wet stroked my clit. What? The sensation had me confused. I’d expected the warmth of his tongue.

The cold and wet brushed against my inner thigh now, and I finally placed what it was. A cube of ice.

He stroked my pussy again with the ice cube. My nub clenched. My hips jerked.

“I wonder if I could make you come like this,” he said softly, and stroked me with the ice again.

“I don’t know. It feels good, but it’s so cold…”

The bed squeaked as he got up. Where was he going now? “Baby, please,” I protested.

His lips brushed against mine. They were cold and wet. From the ice. My body writhed, my not so subtle cue that I wanted him. On top of me. Inside me. Fucking me until I collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

He kissed my jaw, then trailed his tongue to my earlobe and suckled. He whispered, “Do you love me?”

“You know I love everything that you do to me,” I quickly replied, and that was the absolute truth. I craved this man’s touch in a way I wasn’t sure was healthy. “Even if you make me wait for it.”

The ice cube circled my nipple, and my flesh tightened instantly. A moment later, I felt the flick of his hot tongue. Just a flick though, not nearly enough. I arched my back, pushing my breasts forward.

“Do you love me?” he repeated.

Slowly, I lowered my back. He was different today. Why was he suddenly asking me about love, knowing my situation? Knowing the circumstances under which we’d come together?

“I know you love this.” He began stroking my clit with his thumb. Back and forth. Back and forth.

“Mmm, yes. I love that.” I began to pant, close to the edge. “I can never get enough of your hands on my body.”

“What about my tongue?” He adjusted his body between my legs, and I bit down on my bottom lip in anticipation. The moment his tongue came down on me, my hips bucked and I started to whimper.

“Baby, I love your tongue. I can’t get enough of your tongue. Ohhh.”

He suckled me until I was crying from the pleasure and on the verge of exploding. Then he pulled back, denying me my release.

“No, no. Please,” I begged. “I need you, baby. I need—”

“Do you love me?” he asked again.

“Yes!” I cried out. “I love you. I love you.”

“Oh, baby. I love you, too.” Hastily, he untied my legs and hooked them over his shoulders and began to devour me. He sucked, he nibbled, he buried his tongue inside me. He ate greedily, as though my pussy was the last meal he would ever have.

My whole body convulsed as my orgasm gripped me, gripped me harder than anything I’d ever experienced before. It zapped me of my energy. Stole my breath. Left me shuddering as though a speeding train had just rocketed through my body.

Even through my pleasure, I was aware that something had changed between us.

I wasn’t sure it was for the better.

1

Six weeks earlier…

I awoke to the sounds of fucking coming from the other room.

For several moments I lay on my bed, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. My right temple throbbed, evidence of too many margaritas that evening, and a general lack of sleep over the past few days.

Yawning, I rolled over and glanced at the bedside clock.

Three-thirteen in the morning.

“Right there…yes, right there. Ohhh…”

Despite my headache, I couldn’t help giggling. Maybe Marnie thought I was dead to the world and therefore didn’t think she needed to be quiet. Or maybe she didn’t care. All I knew, as I lay there, was that she and the guy she’d picked up were screwing like this was their last night on earth—if the loud moans and screams coming from the other room were any indication.

“Yes, yes! Fuck me, baby!” Marnie screamed.

I hugged my pillow and closed my eyes, but I knew I wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon. Not with the sexual Olympics going on in the next room.

I heard a consistent banging on the wall—likely the headboard. At least, I hoped it wasn’t someone’s body part hitting the wall. And how thin were these walls, anyway, that I could hear their every grunt and moan?

I debated getting out of bed and going to Marnie’s bedroom door. But the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass her and the stud in the room with her.

So I stayed where I was, keeping my eyes closed and hoping I’d somehow be able to get back to sleep.

A loud crash in the next room had me bolting upright, alarm shooting through me. What the—

Laughter.

I lay back down. Whatever had happened, Marnie and her lover weren’t concerned. The sounds of their lovemaking picked up right where they’d left off.

The moaning and groaning and occasional giggles had me suddenly missing my husband. Missing the way we were in the beginning. Spontaneous, and frisky, and a lot like Marnie right now— not caring who heard us if we were in a hotel fucking.

It had been four whole days since I’d seen him, since I’d left on this trip with Marnie, my long-time best friend, to Grand Bahama Island. Marnie had been in the dumps because she and her fiancé had broken up, and she needed a getaway.

I’d suggested this trip as a way to get her mind off of her heart-break. And it had been a blast. Marnie and I had had a fun four days of partying like we were college kids with endless energy, and Marnie hadn’t mentioned Brian once. I doubt that between ogling hot young men and downing flaming Sambuca shots she’d even had time to think about him. The trip had gone a long way to mending Marnie’s broken heart.

I supposed that after being engaged for a couple of years, she was entitled to get her freak on.

Even if I was in the other room.

I couldn’t help but listen to them, and I couldn’t help feeling slightly envious. What I heard coming from Marnie’s room was exactly the kind of sex I wanted to be having with my husband. After eight years of marriage, Andrew and I had fallen into a bit of a routine. Sex on Saturday nights. Sometimes Sunday mornings as well. It was a good week if we also got in a mid-week fuck.

At the beginning of our relationship, we used to go on lots of romantic weekend trips and screw like bunnies. With both of us working full-time now, that kind of spontaneity was impossible. But I still adored my husband, and he adored me. He could still look at me from across a room and make my body tingle the way he first had ten years ago in college.

I suddenly wanted to talk to him. Call him and have some spontaneous phone sex. Get him in the mood to give me the kind of homecoming I was craving.

Yes, it was after three in the morning, but that’s what spontaneous was—not worrying about the time nor the place.

I used my cell phone, having learned that it was more expensive to use a credit card to call from the hotel phone. I punched in the digits to my home in Orlando, then lay back on my pillow as I waited for Andrew to pick up.

My lips were slightly parted, poised to say something dirty the moment Andrew answered the phone. But after four rings, it went to voice mail.

Disappointed, I sighed softly. I debated hanging up and calling him back. I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to touch him, stroke him. How badly I wanted him inside me. And while I was at it, I’d even ask if he would take a plane and meet me here, or meet me in Fort Lauderdale, where Marnie and I had boarded the Discovery Cruise Line to head to the Bahamas.

Spontaneity and all that.

But common sense got the better of me when the beep sounded and I heard my voice prompting me to leave a message. It was the middle of the night, and even though I was desperate to talk to him, I couldn’t call Andrew back. It wouldn’t be fair to him. He had to be up for work in the morning. Besides, I’d be seeing him in less than twenty-four hours.

Real sex would be far better than phone sex anyway.

Though I didn’t think I would, sometime during the night I’d drifted off to sleep. I awoke with a start and found Marnie sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she crooned when my eyes met hers.

I took a moment to register that she was really there, that this wasn’t a dream. I could smell the fresh scent of some sort of floral soap, could see that her short black hair was wet and slicked back. Yep, she was definitely here. And she looked surprisingly well rested for a woman who’d spent most of the night screwing her brains out. Her dark complexion never gave anything away.

“You’d still be sleeping too if you were woken up by the sounds of serious fucking.”

“You heard us?” Marnie asked, sounding surprised.

“You’ve got to be kidding. How could I not hear you?”

“Oops,” Marnie said sheepishly.

“Is the room a total disaster zone or what? Cuz it sure sounded like you were doing some serious damage to it.”

“We broke one of the lamps.” Marnie spoke almost proudly.

“What?” But I was really wondering, how? “And you’re smiling about that?”

“Don’t worry. I already went to the front desk to let them know, and I paid to replace it.”

“Oh. Okay.” Though I was dead tired, I eased myself up on an elbow. Stretching, a yawn escaped my throat.

Marnie grinned from ear to ear. “And trust me, I’m not smiling because we broke a lamp.”

I shook my head in mock reproof. “I can’t believe you’re up already. After the workout you got.”

“I know.” Marnie sighed happily. “He only left an hour ago, so I knew there was no way I’d be getting any sleep if I was going to make it to that boat later today. I took a shower, had a couple cups of coffee and, amazingly, I feel fine.”

“You’d never know. Not with that, ‘I’ve been fucked so hard, I could die a happy woman’ look on your face.”

“I know.” Marnie giggled. “It was incredible, Sophie. Out of this world.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I feel like I was a spectator. All I was missing was the popcorn and the dildo.”

Marnie roared with laughter. “I should be embarrassed—but, what can I say, I’m shameless.”

I yawned again, then asked, “So you like this guy?”

“I like his cock. No, I love his cock.”

Marnie had been my best friend since eighth grade, and we didn’t have a problem speaking explicitly to each other. But if the parents of any of our students happened to overhear us talking when we were out on the town, they’d likely be pulling their kids from our classes.

Of course, we didn’t have to worry about that here. And we definitely didn’t have foul mouths when we were at the front of our grade-school classrooms.

“I do like him,” Marnie went on, “but we leave today. Maybe if he lived in Orlando. Heck, if he even lived in the Bahamas. But he’s headed back to the Dominican Republic the day after tomorrow.”

“It was cute watching you two trying to talk to each other at the bar.” What Soriano had lacked in language skills he had easily made up in charm. And that radiant smile of his hadn’t hurt.

“At least he served his purpose,” Marnie said. “Which was to totally get me to forget about Brian. I don’t know if it’s because this guy was a one-night stand, but nothing Brian did in bed with me was ever as exciting as what Soriano and I did.”

“It probably was, in the beginning with Brian,” I pointed out. “New sex and all that.”

Marnie shrugged. “Maybe. But now my body knows that there’s life after Brian, and that that life can be quite exciting.”

I smiled at my friend. For her sake, I was glad. For a good three months, she had moped over the end of her relationship with Brian, and she’d needed something to get her out of her funk.

She’d already had one marriage fall apart after her husband repeatedly cheated on her, and now that she and Brian had ended things, I knew she was depressed over the thought that she’d never meet her Mr. Right.

I sat up fully and swung my feet off the bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Is there any coffee left?”

“I’ll make another pot.”

“Thank you, babe. I’m going to need it.”

2

It was a little after nine in the evening when I pulled into the driveway of my Orlando home. My husband’s Cadillac Escalade was there—as I’d expected on a Sunday evening—and excited, I sprinted inside. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him until we ended up naked on the living room floor.

I was hoping he would have heard me pull up and be waiting for me at the door. He wasn’t. But Peaches, our orange and white tabby, was. She purred in greeting, and I bent to give her a quick rub on the head before making my way into the living room.

Peaches followed me, clearly needing more attention. I needed Andrew.

But he wasn’t in the living room. Hadn’t he heard me? He had to be somewhere in the house, so why hadn’t he come out to welcome me home? We hadn’t seen each other in five days. Maybe it was a little corny, but I expected him to stop whatever he was doing and rush out to meet me. Sweep me in his arms and not let me go until we were both screaming as we came.

“Andrew?” I called. When he didn’t answer, I frowned. Tonight, I wanted spontaneity. And creativity.

And sex all night long.

I wandered into the bedroom, where I found Andrew lying on the bed. My frown morphed into a small smile as I regarded him. He was on his back, his lips slightly parted as he snored softly.

“Oh, baby,” I said softly. “At least you’re getting your rest, so you should be in full form when I wake you up.”

The cat rubbed her body against my legs, purring. I bent down and scooped her up, then put her out the door and closed it.

“Sorry, Peaches, but I want no spectators for this.”

I padded across the room to the bed and eased my body down beside my husband’s. He didn’t stir. I stretched out beside him and planted my lips on his.

Andrew jerked awake, his eyes widening as he saw me.

I giggled. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” he said, his voice hoarse, then cleared his throat.

“Looks like someone had a hard day,” I commented. I placed my palm on his belly and kissed his chin. “But hopefully your little nap helped you regain some energy.”

“What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” I replied. Now, I kissed his lips.

“How was your trip?”

“Fun. Marnie definitely had a good time.” I smiled inwardly, remembering just how good a time, but I’d never share that with Andrew. “The trip was great for her.”

“That’s good, sweetheart.”

Good? Why wasn’t Andrew taking me in his arms and really kissing me?

I guess he was still groggy, but I was determined to wake him up. Lowering my hand to his groin, I stroked him through his pants. Then I pressed my mouth against his and kissed him deeply.

His cock hardened, and I purred, satisfied. Feeling a surge of feminine power, I eased my body onto his and straddled him. His hands went to my breasts, gently squeezing.

I gyrated myself against him, feeling his cock through my shorts. I moved my mouth from his, to his jaw, then to his earlobe, where I nibbled gently.

“I was having some naughty thoughts last night,” I whispered.

He snaked his hands around my waist. “You were, were you?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I pulled my head back to face him. “I even called. But you didn’t answer.”

Andrew’s hands stilled and he looked at me as if he wasn’t sure he heard me correctly. “You called last night?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“What time?”

“Late,” I answered. “But either you were sleeping, or you were out on the town partying.”

I was joking, but the quizzical look he gave me told me he didn’t think I was. “I guess I was extra tired. It’s been crazy at work with that convention going on. I ended up going in yesterday, since you weren’t here. You should see insurance adjusters throw them back at the bar. And I thought they were dull.”

I slipped my hand between our bodies. His cock was no longer hard. “Hey, big boy. What’s the matter?” I pouted. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Of course I am.” Was I imagining it, or did he sound a tad defensive?

“Then why is it taking you so long to get me naked?” With my legs straddling him, I sat up and pulled my blouse over my head. I made quick work of unfastening my bra. “Touchme, baby. Taste my nipples. I want to you to fuck me so hard, you blow out my back.”

“Sophie,” Andrew said, his tone disapproving.

“Sorry, baby,” I said. Andrew didn’t like it when I cursed. “I just missed you, and you’re playing really hard to get right now.”

Andrew regarded me warily.

“Baby, please don’t tell me you’re too tired for this.” I began stroking him again. “I can do all the work. I just need you to be hard.”

“What exactly happened on your trip?” he asked.

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know. You seem unusually horny.”

Now I sat up and looked at Andrew with a perplexed expression. “Meaning there’s some crazy reason why I want to make love to my husband?”

Andrew’s shoulders moved in a slight shrug.

What was going on? “Do you think I did something wrong while I was away?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He couldn’t have sounded less convincing. He’d never been the jealous or possessive type, and I’d never given him a reason not to trust me. So I had no clue what was really going on here.

“To set the record straight,” I began slowly, sliding off his body, “I didn’t do a single thing you’d be mad at me for. Yeah, I had a lot to drink, stayed up late, and danced like I haven’t since I was in college, but every guy who talked to me knew that I was married.”

Andrew gave no indication that he’d heard me. Instead, he got off the bed and walked out of the room, leaving me confused. Did he not believe me, or was he simply itching for a fight? If that was the case, why was he mad? Because I’d gone away with Marnie? He hadn’t expressed any opposition to me going on the five-day trip.

I didn’t follow him. If he wanted a fight, I wasn’t going to give it to him. I put my shirt back on, knowing that for some crazy reason, I wasn’t getting any sex tonight.

The bedroom door now open, Peaches trotted into the room, determined to get some affection from me. She jumped up onto my lap. I began to massage her neck, taking some comfort from the fact that my pet would always be happy to see me.

A few minutes later, Andrew returned to the bedroom door. He stood there, resting his body against the door frame and looking conflicted.

“Are you mad at me because I went on this trip with Marnie?” I asked, getting to the point.

Andrew drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Something happened,” he said simply.

So work was bothering him. It wouldn’t be the first time that the stress from work continued to bother him when he got home. I was disappointed that his seeing me hadn’t pushed any work issues from his mind, but it was a relief to know that he didn’t believe I’d done anything to hurt him.

“Is it something serious?”

He nodded.

I don’t know why, but I got the sense that this something wasn’t a run-of-the-mill work issue. Maybe Andrew had messed something up at the hotel in a big way and head office was pissed with him. Or perhaps he was involved in a conflict with someone on his staff. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He stared into my eyes, then looked away, his face filled with angst.

“Andrew.” Just how bad was this? “You know I’ll support you no matter what.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

I frowned at him. Peaches rolled onto her back, giving me access to her stomach while she luxuriated in the attention I was giving her. “Why would you say that? Haven’t I always been there for you?”

When Andrew didn’t answer, achill crept down my spine, leaving a feeling of dread in its wake. It wasn’t like Andrew to not get right to the point. My God, something really awful must have happened.

My heart began to beat fast, several devastating scenarios jumping into my head. Had something happened to his parents? Had he gotten some awful news about his health from his doctor while I’d been away? Had he hit a child while driving?

Andrew sighed heavily. He was taking his time, gearing up to tell me the awful news, but I didn’t think my heart could take it.

“Please, Andrew. Just tell me!”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I know that,” I replied somewhat anxiously. “But I want to know what happened.”

He couldn’t look at me, making my fear worse. My eyes misted. Obviously, what had happened had been serious enough that Andrew hadn’t wanted to disturb me while I was on my trip.

I croaked, “Someone died?”

“No.”

“No?” A relieved giggle escaped my throat. “Thank God, Andrew.” I paused. Took a deep breath. “But something serious did happen, didn’t it?” Maybe he had gotten some awful news from his doctor.

“I…”

I waited. Listened. “What, baby?”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Those weren’t the words I’d expected to hear, and they caught me off guard, like biting into an apple and finding it’s filled with mold.

I gave him an odd look. “I don’t understand.”

“I…I did something. Something I’m not proud of.”

This had to be work related, some major screwup that had the head honchos breathing down his neck. God, maybe he’d been fired! Andrew was a manager at the Pelican Hotel and Resort in Kissimmee, close to Disney World, and the job had its share of stress. The people at Head Office didn’t always agree with how Andrew and his team ran things at the hotel.

But surely whatever he’d done wasn’t bad enough to get him fired.

“Jesus, this is so…” Andrew didn’t finish his statement.

“So what?” I prompted.

“I had an affair,” he blurted, so quickly that I was certain I hadn’t heard him correctly. After all, the cat’s loud purring could have made me mishear.

“What did you say?” I asked for confirmation, expecting him to say something else. Confirm for me that I’d misheard.

He looked at me now. “I had an affair.”

Stunned, I lowered the cat to the floor. As if she sensed the sudden tension in the room, she ran out the bedroom door.

“You—” I couldn’t repeat what he’d said.

“I’m so sorry,” he told me. He stepped into the room and closed the door. “I never meant to hurt you.”

All I could do was stare at Andrew. It was as though he had morphed into a stranger in front of my eyes.

“Please, Sophie. Say something.”

This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real.

Andrew walked toward me, slowly, as if trying to corner a scared dog. I didn’t say a word. Couldn’t. I was too numb.

But when he reached for me, I reacted instinctively, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” I suddenly heard the ragged breaths coming from my chest. I sounded awful. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do—”

“Shut up. Just shut up!” I covered my ears with my hands. I wanted to block his words, as though not hearing them would make what he’d said go away.

My hands still over my ears, I stared at Andrew, my eyes imploring him to take back what he’d said. He held my gaze, but only for a few seconds. Then he looked down.

“Oh, my God.” I shot to my feet. “Oh, my God.”

“Sophie—”

Gasping, I stumbled past Andrew. I wanted to run out of the house, escape to a place where Andrew’s words wouldn’t hurt me. But as I got into the living room, my knees buckled, and I was lucky to collapse onto the sofa as opposed to the floor.

An affair? My husband had had an affair?

Andrew, the guy I’d known since I was nineteen, who had gently pursued me in college until I hadn’t been able to say no. The guy who’d given me a plastic ring in a bouquet of dandelions and told me that even though he wasn’t really proposing, he wanted me to know that one day he would.

If there had been anyone I could count on, anyone who I thought I could completely trust not to betray me in this way, it was Andrew.

My eyes filled with tears. Why, why, why? Why would he do this to me? How could he?

It wasn’t like I rolled over in bed at night and complained of being too tired to make love. If anything, I wanted it more than he did. He wasn’t as aggressive when it came to sex as he’d been in the beginning, but he also hadn’t been the tear-your-clothes-off kind of guy in the first place. That kind of man didn’t look for sex on the side when he had a wife ready and happy to please him.

No, what mattered to Andrew—or so he’d always said—was our commitment to each other. Passion could wane, but he’d assured me that our love would always be strong.

“Sophie.” He spoke softly, and I whipped my head up to see he was standing near the end of the sofa.

Seeing him standing there with a pained expression on his face was all it took for my confusion to turn to anger. He dared to look pained? After he had betrayed me?

“What do you want, a medal? You think because you had the guts to confess that I’m supposed to forgive you for fucking around?”

“No,” he said softly. “That’s not what I expect.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?” I was pissed, and didn’t care if my foul mouth offended him.

He shrugged. “I wanted you to know.”

“Aren’t you just the epitome of honor. Go to hell.”

I got to my feet and marched to the bedroom. But as soon as I was in there, I whirled around. I wanted answers from the man I’d given my heart to. The man I’d married and promised to be faithful to.

No, I deserved answers.

I was fuming, my nostrils flaring with each angry breath. “You fucked someone else. Tell me why.”

He said nothing.

“Tell me why! Wasn’t I good enough for you? Lord knows you always acted like sex wasn’t the be-all and end-all, so why the hell would you end up in someone else’s bed?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I gaped at him. “What—were you abducted by aliens who removed your brain?”

Andrew said nothing.

“Was it a one-night stand?” I demanded. “Some slut you met out at some club?”

Nothing.

My stomach sank. “Someone you met at the hotel?”

Andrew didn’t reply.

An awful thought hit me, as painful as if Andrew had slapped me across the face. “She wasn’t a one-night stand…. Oh, God.”

Groaning, Andrew ran a hand over his face. “It’s not like…it’s not like it meant anything.”

“My God, you’re a walking fucking cliché.”

“Jesus, Sophie. Can we just…can we talk? I know I was wrong. I made a huge mistake.”

“I’ve heard enough bullshit from you.” I was cursing like a trucker, but I was angry.

“I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Andrew sounded exasperated. “That’s why I told you about it. I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Several beats passed. I was so livid, I was shaking. I needed to calm down. Not for Andrew’s sake, but for mine.

I drew in deep breaths, trying to bring myself to a better place. I wondered if I’d ever find a better place again.

“I thought I knew you,” I said. “I thought you loved me.”

“You think I don’t love you?” Andrew asked. “That’s the reason I’m telling you—because I love you. And I want to make this right.”

Make this right… As if it were so simple. As if what he’d done could be undone.

“Get out,” I told him.

He looked stunned. “What?”

“I want you gone. Out of my life. Forever, you son of a bitch.”

But even as I said the words, I couldn’t imagine a life without Andrew. Just a few months ago, Andrew and I had talked about finally having children. After having devoted the first eight years of our marriage to building up a nest egg, we were ready.

I drew in another breath and held it until my lungs burned. I didn’t want to cry, but damn it…Andrew had destroyed everything.

The dam broke on my last bit of self-control, and I began to weep. Huge, chest-heaving sobs.

Andrew gathered me in his arms and, though I wanted to, I had no energy to push him away. He held my head against his body and I cried until no more tears would come.

“God,” Andrew moaned. He stroked my hair lovingly, as though he were consoling me for an entirely different reason. “This is the last thing I wanted. To hurt you like this.”

His words pierced my heart. I took a step backward, wiping tears from my face. Somehow I was calm when I asked, “How did you think that cheating wouldn’t hurt me?”

“I know, I know. I sound like a moron. I’m just saying…all I can say is that I’m sorry.”

Feeling cold, I hugged my torso. Though I knew my arms wouldn’t keep me warm when the cold was emanating from inside me. “Sorry can’t erase something like this.”

Andrew nodded. “I get it.”

“Oh, stop giving me that look.”

“What look?”

“That wounded look. As if this is hurting you more than it’s hurting me.”

“I’m hurting too,” Andrew said softly.

“I’m sure it’s been tough,” I retorted, turning away. I couldn’t stand looking at my husband. Looking at him and knowing that the man I loved had betrayed me.

Slowly, I walked toward the wall near the bedroom door. Drained, I leaned against it for support.

Andrew followed me, but he stayed a few steps away from me. “I told you because I wanted to. Because you deserved to know. And because I hoped that somewhere in your heart, you could find a way to forgive me for being so weak. And stupid. I messed up, but this doesn’t have to be the end of our marriage.”

“Wow. Thanks for the heartfelt, unbiased advice, you asshole. Don’t you dare tell me how I should feel and what I should do, because I’m going to decide what happens next. You don’t get to have an affair and still make the decisions about our future. If you cared about our future, you never would have done something so…” My voice trailed off. I stifled a cry.

Andrew reached for me. “Baby.”

“Fuck you!” I snapped. The anger was back. Big time. “Now leave. Because I can’t stand the sight of you.”

3

I didn’t ask where Andrew was going. I didn’t care. He could be running straight to his girlfriend and planning to serve me with divorce papers, it didn’t matter. If he wanted that slut he’d screwed, he could have her.

That’s what I told myself, but in my heart I didn’t believe my bold words. I might have wanted to hate Andrew for turning my world upside down, but a person can’t turn her feelings off in an instant. The truth was, I loved him, and that made the pain infinitely more intense. That and the fact that what he’d done had come as an utter shock. I thought that Andrew and I had a good, happy marriage. And people in happy marriages don’t cheat.

I spent the night alternately crying, fuming and wishing I could start this day over. I’d give anything to be back in the Bahamas, hungover and sleep deprived. At least then I’d been sleep deprived because I’d been overdosing on fun.

Now, as sunlight spilled through the blinds signaling morning, I felt nauseous and numb. My throat was parched, and my stomach was lurching. I needed water. Something inside my stomach. But I didn’t have energy to even get out of bed.

Why? That was the question I asked myself in the moments I wasn’t crying or dozing. Why would Andrew do this to me? To us. And he had the audacity to claim that he still wanted to be with me, wanted our marriage.

I didn’t understand.

My head hurt from thinking about Andrew’s bombshell, so I closed my eyes. Closed my eyes and willed the pain to dissipate.

I must have drifted off, because I jolted awake when I thought I heard a sound in the house. Slowly, I raised my head. Was that Peaches?

It had to be. She wasn’t in the bedroom with me, which meant she was somewhere else in the house. She’d likely knocked something over, but I couldn’t be bothered to get up and check it out.

I closed my eyes then whipped them open when I heard the bedroom door open. Now I knew that it wasn’t Peaches.

Andrew had come back?

Marnie poked her head through the doorway.

“Marnie?” I asked, wondering if I might be hallucinating.

She rushed into the room. “Oh, honey. What’s going on?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

She plopped down onto the bed beside me, her face full of concern as she regarded me. “Andrew called. And I’m glad he did. My God—your eyes are nearly swollen shut.”

“Andrew called you?”

“Yes.” Marnie placed her hand on my forehead, feeling for a temperature. “You’re not that warm, but I’ve never seen you look this awful before. I should take you to the doctor.”

“Andrew said I was sick?”

“He just said that you might need me.”

“Hmm.” Gripping Marnie’s arm for support, I rose to a sitting position. “I need water.”

“Of course.” Marnie was on her feet in a flash. She left the bedroom and returned within a minute, holding a tall glass filled with ice and water.

I sipped, then gulped down the entire glass. I’d needed water more than I’d thought.

“I’m not sick,” I said, my voice still weak.

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

“Excuse me.” I climbed off the bed. “I need to use the bathroom.”

I made my way to the ensuite bathroom, moving slowly. I knew Marnie was concerned and confused, but she’d learn the truth soon enough.

When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I gasped. Awful was an understatement. My hair was a mess, my eyes red and swollen. I wore an expression that was beyond dejected. I looked haunted.

Given my physical appearance, including the clothes I’d been wearing from the day before that were now wrinkled, a stranger might look at me and think I’d just survived a rape.

I relieved myself, then washed my face and drank more water. My stomach grumbled, and for the first time since last night, I felt hunger pangs as opposed to nausea.

Marnie didn’t just look concerned as I walked back into the bedroom, she looked scared. “I’ve got to tell you, I’m starting to freak out here, Sophie.”

“Andrew…” I paused. Swallowed. “Andrew had an affair.”

“What?” Marnie asked, aghast.

I couldn’t repeat the words, only nod.

“He’s leaving you?”

I sank onto the mattress beside Marnie. “He says he still loves me. Still wants me.”

“What?” Marnie was outraged.

Her anger helped fuel my own. I’d spent an entire night depressed over Andrew’s betrayal, but I needed to pull myself together. Andrew had hurt me enough, and wallowing in self-pity was simply going to add to my pain.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Shocker, huh?”

“Oh, sweetie. Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” Marnie paused. “Have you eaten anything?” Like that was the answer to my crisis.

“Nothing.”

“Let me fix you some food.”

“Where’s Peaches?”

“She ran outside when I opened the door. Look, the cat’s going to be fine. It’s you I’m worrying about.”

I nodded.

Tugging on my hand, Marnie pulled me up from the bed. “I know what you’re going through. Believe me. And I’m going to help you deal with it.”

“Thanks.”

I walked with her to the kitchen, but she insisted that I sit in the living room and put my feet up. I did, and for lack of anything better to do, I turned on the television.

The Maury Pauvich Show was on, dealing with unruly kids who were going to be sent off to boot camp. I’d seen several shows of this variety, with bold and foul-mouthed children balking at any authority, only to end up weeping and begging for their mothers after a few days of military-enforced submission.

“They should have boot camp like this for cheating husbands,” I commented.

“What?” Marnie asked.

I could see her working in the kitchen, getting the skillet hot to fry eggs. She already had coffee brewing.

“I’m watching Maury Pauvich, and they’ve got out-of-control teens that they’re sending to boot camp. I think he ought to do a show where they send cheating men to boot camp. I’d tune in for that one.”

“Wasn’t he an unfaithful husband?” Marnie asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe they all are,” I added softly. Marnie and Brian had fallen apart because they ultimately wanted different things, but her first husband, Keith, had cheated on her as though he’d been going for some kind of world record.

Marnie wandered into the living room with a mug of hot coffee. “Two creams, two sugars—just the way you like it.”

“Thank you.” With a smile, I accepted the mug from Marnie, then watched as she sauntered back to the kitchen. I was glad she was here. Because she’d shown up, I was no longer in a cold, dark, depressing place. Friends were what helped keep people sane when they went through heart-wrenching experiences. Without someone to turn to, a person could get lost in their grief and be unable to find their way back to sanity.

While Marnie fried eggs, I turned back to the television. A young female was taunting the audience with, “Yeah, so I slept with fifteen guys—what’s the big deal?” while they all booed her and her mother sobbed. A caption on the screen identified the girl as thirteen-year-old Cathy.

I actually chuckled as Maury placed his hand on the shoulder of the girl’s mother, asking how she felt about her daughter’s shocking admission. The mother was a blubbering mess but managed to say, “I can’t believe she would do this to me.”

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t a parent, but I was a teacher, and I’d seen firsthand the kinds of problems that arose when parents took the submissive role and let their kids get away with everything. When they didn’t set boundaries. Or, when they didn’t punish kids for breaking the rules.

“You want to eat in front of the television?” Marnie asked. “Because I can bring out a couple of trays.”

“No, no.” I got to my feet and walked across the living room to the kitchen’s dinette area. “Though watching shows like Maury certainly helps a person forget about her own problems.”

Marnie set a plate of eggs and toast in front of me, then took the seat to my right. She had only the coffee for herself.

“Thanks so much,” I told her. “If you hadn’t shown up, I’d still be in bed, half-comatose.”

Marnie sipped her coffee. “Ok, now tell me what happened. You got home last night and what—you found evidence of some other woman here or something?”

“No.” I lifted my fork and cut into my egg. “He came right out and told me.”

“Nice welcome-home present. Sheesh.”

“I knew something was wrong, but I never would have guessed….” My voice trailed off, ending on a sigh. Then I continued, trying to recite the facts without emotion. “He was acting weird. I wanted to make love, but he wasn’t into it. Next thing I know, he’s all serious, saying he’s got to tell me something. I actually thought someone had died.” Shaking my head at the memory, I stuffed some egg into my mouth.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised,” Marnie began, “but I have to say, nothing men do surprises me anymore.”

“I was devastated last night,” I went on. I still was, but now I was determined to regain control of my emotions. “Mad at first, then devastated. But you know what—I didn’t do this. Andrew did. I’m not saying it doesn’t hurt, but fuck, if this is the hand that life has dealt me, I am going to deal with it and move on.”

Marnie gave me a slightly skeptical look, but God bless her, she didn’t voice any doubts. I’d seen her after her marriage had fallen apart, and though she’d seen it coming, it had taken a long time for her to recover.

“It’s not going to be easy,” I said. “I get that. But you know what, there are other fish in the sea.”

I felt emotion welling up inside me again at the thought of a life without Andrew, and I quickly ate more food before I started crying. Clearly, I was lying to myself.

“I’m here for you,” Marnie said. “We’ll go shopping, clubbing, whatever you need to take your mind off this.”

I nodded. “I know.” I’d done the same for her. “I mean, I know it’ll be hard. I loved Andrew. I still do. But I can’t let this ruin my life.”

Marnie nodded, sipped her coffee. “Did he tell you anything about her?”

“Not much. But it sounds like she wasn’t a one-night stand.” I took a bite of my whole-wheat toast.

“What an asshole,” Marnie muttered. “Sorry, but—”

“Don’t apologize. You’re absolutely right. And I can’t believe he told me this, expecting I’d just forgive him.”

“Word of advice here—and I know it’s early, and I’m not trying to tell you what to do—but you forgive a guy when he cheats, and there’s nothing to say he won’t do it again. In fact, it’s almost like they see your forgiveness as a sign to do it again. Trust me, I learned the hard way with Keith.”

Would Andrew be that way? I couldn’t imagine. Then again, I never imagined he’d ever cheat. He’d seemed too grounded, too controlled, too stable—opposite of spontaneous—to do something like that.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I admitted. “Part of me hates him, part of me loves him.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Marnie said. “But you don’t have to do it today. How about we hit the mall for some retail therapy. And we can take in a matinée. That new film with Will Smith. Two hours of shameless ogling.” Her face lit up. “What do you say?”

“Will Smith? How can I argue with that?”

The retail therapy was fun, netting me a new pair of shoes and a slinky black dress I promised to wear out to a club with Marnie on the weekend. But Will Smith was like two painkillers, easing my heartache for the two hours he appeared on screen. Marnie had cheered loudly when he took it all off in a shower scene, and while I hadn’t been as vocal, I’d certainly enjoyed his delicious body.

We pulled into my driveway shortly after five. I collected the bags with my purchases and got out of Marnie’s black Nissan Sentra.

“I’m serious,” Marnie said. “Call me if you need me, no matter the time.”

“You spent the whole day babysitting me,” I protested.

“And I’ll come right back if you realize that being in the house alone is too much for you to deal with.”

“The moment I’m tempted to curl into a ball on the bed, I’ll call you,” I assured her.

“But if you don’t get me at home, call me on my cell.” Marnie wiggled her eyebrows, and I knew instantly that something was going on.

I poked my head into the driver-side window before she could leave. “I know that tone, Marnie Kincaid. What’s going on tonight that you won’t be at home?”

“Well…” Marnie’s eyes lit up as she bit down on her bottom lip. “I didn’t want to mention it until later—after I knew how it worked out—but I’ve got a date tonight.”

“What?” Iexclaimed. “And you kept this news to yourself all day?”

“I didn’t think I should say anything. Not with what’s going on with you and Andrew.”

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. If you’ve got good news, I want to hear it.”

“It’s not really a date,” Marnie explained. “More of a let’s-see-if- we-like-each-other meeting. You remember I told you I signed up with a couple online dating sites?”

“Yes, but I didn’t think you were serious. You’re the one who said you prefer the old-fashioned way of meeting people.”

“I know, I know. Which is why I put off TRULYACUTIE’s requests to meet me before we went on our trip.”

“TRULYACUTIE?” I asked, laughing.

“Yeah, that’s the name he gave himself online. It piqued my interest.” Marnie paused for a moment. “Hey, if Soriano lived in Orlando, I’d be all over him. But if there’s one thing my affair with him taught me, it’s that I’m ready to move on. And let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger. So I e-mailed TRULYACUTIE and said I’d like to meet him.”

“Wow.”

“Of course, this is just a first date to make sure the guy’s not a creep, and we’ll go from there. But if his picture is for real, then his screen name is quite fitting.”

“Where are you two going?” I asked. I knew a lot of people were finding love via the Internet, but still, I couldn’t help feeling concerned for my friend.

“The Cheesecake Factory. Very public, very busy. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“And you’re driving your car there, right? He’s not picking you up, is he?”

Marnie shot me a look as if to say I had to know she wasn’t that naïve. “Absolutely, I’m driving my own car there. You know me better than that. And he only knows my screen name and vice versa. This way, if we don’t like each other, we can disappear from each other’s lives easily. It’s perfect.”

“All right.” I straightened. I was going to stop the mother hen act. Marnie was thirty, a few months older than me, and capable of taking care of herself. “You’re wasting gas. I’ll let you go.”

“Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” I said. “Have fun.”

Marnie backed out of the driveway and drove off. Waving, I watched her until she made a left onto a nearby street.

Whether I was depressed or not, I would call her later. Just to make sure TRULYACUTIE wasn’t a nutcase pretending to be a nice guy.

For the first hour or so after Marnie left, I was perfectly fine. I was able to put my hurt on the back burner and cook a simple meal of grilled chicken and pasta. I ate at the kitchen table with the sounds of hip-hop blaring from my stereo. I didn’t want to play anything soft and mellow, because alone with my thoughts, soft and mellow would remind me of the pain I was managing to keep under control.

Peaches sat beside my chair on the floor, looking up at me with dark, pleading eyes. I didn’t normally feed her from the table so as not to spoil her, but I dropped her a piece of chicken nonetheless. What the heck—I was in no mood to obey the rules when my husband had broken the most important one.

Every so often as I ate, I glanced at the phone. The red light was flashing, meaning there was at least one message.

Andrew?

I waited until I’d finished my food and had washed the dishes before I finally placed the phone to my ear and punched in the code to retrieve the messages. And when I did, my heart faltered at the sound of Andrew’s voice.

“Sophie, it’s me. I’m checking in on you, hoping you’re okay. Call me, please. Let me know.”

I erased the message and hung up the phone. The food I’d just eaten turned in my stomach. Did Andrew think I’d spend one night crying, wake up refreshed, and be ready to forgive him?

“Don’t think about him,” I told myself. And I certainly wasn’t going to call back.

I found myself walking to the spare bedroom and digging my easel and art supplies out of the closet. It was a hobby that gave me comfort, but one I didn’t indulge in all that much anymore. Definitely not in the past few months. Whenever I decided to create a picture, Andrew complained that the smell of the paint bothered him. As I stared at the dusty easel and paint-covered sheets, I had to admit to myself that I painted far less these days because it bothered Andrew, not because I didn’t care for my longtime hobby.

Well, Andrew wasn’t here anymore.

I set to work. Two hours later, I had an abstract painting with angry strokes of red and black in the center and muted yellows, browns and oranges around the edges. I’d used a large piece of paper rather than a cloth canvas, but I smiled as I stared at the painting as though I’d created a masterpiece.

Though the paper was still wet, I took it straight to the living room and taped it over the large wedding photo on the wall. Then I gathered the various framed photos of me and Andrew off the tables, carried them to the spare bedroom and deposited them in a large dresser drawer.

If only it were so easy to erase the memory of what he’d done.

4

Someone was stroking my calves.

Soft, flirty, circular strokes on my skin.

But who…? Confused, I opened my eyes and turned onto my back. In the darkened room, I could see his form at the foot of the bed, but I couldn’t see his face. Yet his touch was familiar, and I didn’t pull away.

The mattress squeaked as he eased onto it. His hands moved slowly up my legs, the tips of his fingers giving each part of my body they touched an electrical charge. He added his lips, pressing them to my knee. Then higher, on my thigh.

I wanted to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Not when the sensations flooding my body felt so good.

His mouth reached the apex of my thighs. So did his fingers. He fondled my pussy, spread my folds. Curled his fingers around my hips and buried his face in my center.

My eyelids fluttered. As he licked and suckled my pussy, I gripped fistfuls of the bedspread. I arched my hips, started to scream.

Suddenly his lips were gone.

His fingers were gone.

He was gone.

No, he was still here. Soft suckling sounds still filled the bedroom. And moans. A woman’s moans.

And then I saw them. Andrew and a woman, beside me on the bed. The woman’s breasts jiggled as she writhed around. Her mouth formed a wide O, her pleasure intense. Her legs were over his shoulders and he was eating her pussy, slurping and groaning. Loving every taste of her.

My eyes ventured to her toes. Though the room was dark, the red nail polish glistened. My gaze traveled the length of her body, from her arched feet to her bucking hips to her jiggling breasts.

To the perfect O formed on her lips.

The woman’s eyes flew open then, meeting mine. She smiled.

I bolted upright, a cry escaping my throat. But then she was gone. Disoriented, my eyes flew around the rest of the room.

I was alone. Alone in my bed, my heart beating fast. My ragged breathing was the only sound in the still of the dark room.

My hand went to my throat. I was flushed. Aroused.

I’d been dreaming.

Exhaling slowly, I lay back down. I tried to get my heart to settle, but the dream had been so real. And startling.

For the next hour, I couldn’t sleep. The images from the dream haunted me. Andrew pleasuring another woman with his tongue, the expression of pure bliss on her face. I know it was a dream, but the very nature of it disturbed me. Had me wondering exactly what Andrew had done with this other woman. How he’d touched her. If he’d tasted her. The sounds she’d made while coming. The sounds he’d made.

If their connection was more electric than ours.

I needed to know.

I didn’t think I’d want to, but as I lay in bed in the dark, I realized there would be many nights like this. Nights when Andrew and this other woman came into my bed, the visions of what they could have done torturing me as surely as if I were witnessing their affair.

My imagination would be infinitely worse than knowing the truth.

That was what fueled me the next morning, got me out of bed early. I showered, got dressed and drove to the Pelican Resort.

Only to discover that Andrew wasn’t there.

“What do you mean he’s not here?” I asked Seth, the assistant manager.

“He’s with the lawyers,” Seth replied, looking confused, his tone saying he thought I knew this already.

“The lawyers?”

“Well, yes.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“What lawyers?”

Seth didn’t respond.

“What lawyers?” I repeated.

A muscle in Seth’s jaw flinched. “I thought you…” He paused. “You need to talk to Andrew about this.”

“About what?” I asked anxiously, my stomach churning. So something bad was going on at work, something worse than the affair. Why hadn’t Andrew told me?

Seth held up both hands, the only response he gave me. Then he walked behind the hotel’s front desk counter and spoke to a young clerk.

She was blond, just like in my dream.

I turned away. Noticed Kathryn, the pretty receptionist who was an exotic mix of African-American and Chinese. She grinned my way, but I couldn’t reciprocate.

Had Andrew fucked her?

I turned again. Saw another pretty woman, this one dressed as a hotel maid. With her looks, why was she cleaning hotels?

Was Andrew fucking her on the side?

The thoughts going through my mind were making me crazy, and unable to deal with them, I all but ran toward the front door. Once outside, I leaned against a column and gulped in humid air.

Lawyers? What was going on? And why hadn’t Andrew told me about it?

I dug my cell phone out of my purse and dialed his cell. It went straight to voice mail, meaning it was shut off.

“Andrew,” I said after the tone beeped, “I’m at the hotel. I came to see you, but you aren’t here. I heard that you’re meeting with lawyers?” My statement turned into a question. “What’s going on?”

As I hung up, I found I was worried. Worried about Andrew and if the issue he was dealing with was a serious one. It didn’t matter that he’d hurt me: my protective feelings for him surfaced, and I hoped he was okay.

Two hours later, when my cell phone rang and I saw Andrew’s name on my caller ID, I quickly pressed the talk button. “Hello?”

“Sophie. Hi.”

He sounded calm, and that set my heart at ease. I asked, “What’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“Good,” Andrew said. “Can I come see you?”

“What’s happening?”

“I’ll tell you everything when I see you, if that’s okay.”

“All right.” My concern returned. Andrew might sound calm, but the fact that he didn’t want to tell me what was happening on the phone meant that whatever was going on was serious. “Are you coming now?”

“Yes.”

I hung up, and spent the next twenty minutes worrying. I was in the living room, the cat on my lap, and I stroked her as much for my comfort as hers. The moment the front door opened, Peaches leapt to the floor. I stood to face Andrew as he walked into the living room.

He looked worn-out. There were dark circles under his eyes, and a tired expression on his face.

“Andrew?”

He tossed his keys onto the end table beside the sofa before meeting my gaze. “Hello.”

“Why were you meeting with lawyers?” I asked, getting to the point. I didn’t want to be kept in suspense. “Is someone suing the hotel?”

“Sit, please.” Andrew motioned to the sofa.

I didn’t argue. I sat, and he sat on the sofa beside me. The light smell of his musky cologne wafted into my nose, and part of me ached to touch him. I longed for the familiarity of his lips on mine.

But his touch wouldn’t be familiar anymore, would it? He had tainted what we had when he had fucked someone else.

“I want you to know,” he began, “that the only reason I didn’t mention this before is…” He paused, fiddled with his hands. “It was bad enough telling you about the affair. I felt it was best to wait, give you a chance to deal with that first.”

My stomach twisted at the word affair. But I tried to push the awful feeling aside and concentrate on the here and now—the legal issue Andrew was facing. I’m sure that some women, learning their husbands had cheated, wouldn’t care if they got hit by a bus, or if they were struck with terminal cancer.

Clearly, I wasn’t one of those women.

“There’s no other way to say this,” Andrew went on. “Someone has threatened a lawsuit against me.”

“A lawsuit! Oh, my God.” I reached for his hands, took them in mine. It was a reflexive act, but I didn’t pull away. “Why?”

Andrew hesitated, lowered his gaze, then raised his eyes to meet mine. “She’s claiming sexual harassment.”

I narrowed my eyes as I stared at him, not understanding. It took a full five seconds for his words to register. And when they did, I jerked my hands away as though I’d been scalded.

It was one thing for Andrew to have met a woman in a bar and fucked her, but someone he worked with…

“You jerk.” It was the only thing I could think of to say.

“She’s lying, Sophie. She’s the one who came on to me.”

I slowly stood. “You fucking jerk. What are we talking here— millions of dollars? Are we going to lose our home because you couldn’t keep your hands off this woman?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Andrew said. “If anything, I should be able to charge her with sexual harassment.”

I snorted.

Andrew got to his feet, standing in front of me. “She’s lying.”

“You think that’s what matters here—that she’s lying? What matters is that you put yourself in the position to jeopardize not just our marriage, but our assets. All because you had to fuck someone else.”

For several moments, neither of us spoke. The only thing to be heard was our loud, frustrated breathing and the cat’s concerned meows.

“So you do work with this woman,” I said.

Andrew nodded.

“How much does she want?”

“She came up with the crazy figure of five million dollars.”

“Are you serious?”

“She wanted me to leave you, I wouldn’t, and I told her it was best she find another job,” Andrew explained hurriedly. “That’s when she claimed sexual harassment.”

I shook my head, disgusted. “So we’re going to lose everything.”

“She hasn’t sued—yet. She’s threatening to.”

“If you don’t leave me,” I said. A statement, not a question.

“I…I guess.” Andrew threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know what’s going on in her warped mind.”

I turned away from Andrew, rethinking my earlier position on how I’d feel if he got hit by a bus. A million thoughts going through my mind, I wandered toward the window that faced the backyard.

I looked out at our deck. Two years ago, we’d added a gazebo and a hot tub, but we hardly used either. We had everything we needed for romantic nights and weekends right here, and yet our romance had fallen by the wayside.

“Maybe you should,” I began slowly. I turned. “Maybe you should go to her.”

“No!” Andrew protested. “I don’t want her!”

“If it will stop her from suing you…” I said the words, but I didn’t really mean them.

Andrew rushed toward me. I didn’t move. Not even as he placed both hands on my shoulders.

“I don’t want her,” he repeated. “Yeah, I screwed up. I learned my lesson the hardest way possible, but I’m going to make this right.”

I said nothing. I felt only numb.

“I think I know how to make her go away. Make the problem go away. I got some good advice from my lawyers.”

I said nothing.

“Say something, Sophie. Please.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want your forgiveness. I know it won’t be today. Maybe not tomorrow. But I want to know that at some point in the future, we’ll be back to normal.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Andrew nodded grimly as he lowered his hands from my shoulders.

“I hope she was worth it,” I said softly.

My eyes blurring with tears, I pushed past Andrew to the kitchen. I opened a cupboard, pulled out the first mug I saw, which happened to be one we’d had specially made with our photo on it. Before I could place the mug on the counter, Andrew was there, taking it from my hands.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want your forgiveness,” he said. “I know you’re angry. And you have every right to be. But these past few days without you have been the worst days of my life. I still love you. And I don’t want to lose you. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back. If that means we’re not together for a few months, so be it, but I need to know I’ve got a reason to hope. Hell, if you want to have an affair to even the score, do it if that’s what you need to do. Do it and then come back to me and let’s move on.”

“So now you want to pimp me out to someone else?” I asked, aghast at the suggestion.

“No! Of course not. But I hurt you. Maybe in a situation like this you need to hurt me back.”

“You need to go now.”

“I don’t want to leave. Not like this.”

“Now.”

Andrew stared at me, but my hard expression gave him no cause for hope. Sighing in frustration, he turned. He made the short walk to the hall table where he’d deposited his keys, scooped them up, then walked past me to the front door.

The moment the front door clicked shut, I hurled the mug against the fridge, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

5

I was on my second glass of wine when I called Marnie.

“Hello?” she said sweetly.

“It’s only me, Sophie, not TRULYACUTIE.”

“Hey, Soph.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing special.”

“Good. Then we should go out. Somewhere hot and happening. Maybe even CityWalk at Universal Studios, where all the tourists go hoping to get laid.”

“You all right?”

“But you’ll have to pick me up, okay? Cuz I’m already drinking and a little fucked-up.”

“Sophie—”

“Whenever you’re ready.” I hung up.

Forty minutes later, Marnie was at my door. “Hey, girl!” I trilled, and pulled her into a hug. “Ready to party?”

Breaking the hug, she took a step backward and eyed me with concern. “What the heck is going on?”

“You mean besides the news that Andrew’s slut is suing him for five million dollars?”

Marnie stepped into the house and closed the door behind her. “Oh, my God.”

“No, it’s fine.” I waved off her concern. “I’ve got it all figured out. Andrew can go live with her so she doesn’t sue him for everything, and I can fuck someone else—with my husband’s blessing, even.”

“Okay, you’re making no sense.”

“Time’s a-wasting.” I wiggled my hips. “Let’s go par-tay!”

Marnie took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen, where she deposited me on a chair at the table.

“What are you doing?” I protested.

“First of all, it’s five-thirty, way too early to go partying. Secondly, you’re drunk. And third, you need to back the fuck up and explain what you just said. Andrew is being sued?”

My false bravado crumbled, and I burst into tears. Of course, the wine I’d consumed helped my tears flow a little easier.

I told Marnie everything that Andrew had told me. She got a box of Kleenex off of the nearby counter and put it in front of me. I pulled out a wad, wiped my eyes and blew my nose.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all this shit,” Marnie said.

“The good news is, he still loves me and still wants our marriage.” I snorted in derision. “Lucky me.”

Marnie rolled her eyes. “What is it with men? They can have affairs and we’re supposed to be grateful when they decide they still want us?”

I blew my nose again.

“Can I get you anything?” Marnie asked. “And no, not more wine. How about coffee?”

“Okay.” I nodded. “That’ll sober me up until we go out later.”

“You still want to go out?”

“Absolutely. I need to listen to music, dance. Drink some more.” At the mention of alcohol, my stomach turned. “And eat something,” I quickly said. “Something starchy, like bread or crackers. Popcorn! Do you mind making some?”

“Popcorn?” Marnie sounded surprised.

“It’s in the second cupboard from the right.”

“Okeydoke.”

First, Marnie set about making a fresh pot of coffee. Then she put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and, three minutes later, she was pouring it into two bowls. She passed one to me and put the other one at her place on the table. The popcorn taken care of, she poured two cups of coffee.

“You want cream and sugar?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Right now, I need it black.”

Carrying both mugs of steaming black coffee, Marnie rejoined me at the table.

“Thank you,” I told her. “What would I do without you?”

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to find out.”

I sipped the coffee. It was strong. Perfect. “Take my mind off my problems—tell me about your date.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Do you like TRULYACUTIE?”

“I do. I wasn’t expecting anything, but there was a little spark. I think. At least on my part.”

“Have you talked today?”

“No. But he said he’d call. Or e-mail. However—” She grinned, then reached across the table to give my hand a comforting squeeze. “I already turned off my cell phone, because tonight, you and I are hanging out.”

I smiled softly as I squeezed her hand in return. I could always count on Marnie. I’d learned that in eighth grade when she’d let me copy her answers on a math quiz after I’d forgotten to study. The teacher had caught her angling her paper towards me and, as a result, flunked us both. Instead of being unhappy, Marnie had shrugged off the incident, saying, “If you can’t help your friends, what good are you?”

That sealed the deal for me, and we’d been best friends ever since.

Marnie’s expression suddenly grew wistful. “I know you still love Andrew. How can you not? Unfortunately, our hearts don’t come with an on/off switch. But sweetie, you deserve better, and with what he’s putting you through…I’d be seeing a divorce lawyer. Like yesterday.”

I nodded, but I only half agreed. What Marnie said about me deserving better was true, I knew that. But she was also right about our hearts not having an on/off switch.

Life wasn’t black and white. Love wasn’t black and white. I didn’t know if I’d ever stop loving Andrew. But just because I might always love him didn’t mean we had to be together.

“You want to know what the icing on the cake is?” I asked after a moment. “Andrew told me that if I wanted to, I could have an affair to even the score.”

Marnie stopped chewing her popcorn. “What?”

“How thoughtful of him, huh?”

“Right,” Marnie said sarcastically.

“I don’t know if he meant it,” I went on. “He was likely just rambling. He seemed to be saying anything that might get me to tell him I’d forgive him.”

We ate in silence for a while longer, and Marnie’s eyes wandered. After a moment, her eyebrows rose. “I see you have a new wedding picture.”

I followed her gaze and saw the painting I’d put up over my wedding portrait. “It was quicker than taking it down,” I explained.

“And helpful if you bring a man home home.” A beat passed. “Would you?”

“Would I screw some other guy to even the score?” I asked, my tone saying it was definitely something I would not consider.

Marnie dropped popcorn into her mouth and chewed. “Maybe you should.”

“What?”

“Hear me out. And I’m not saying you should go fuck some other guy to even the score. But maybe it’s a good idea to see what else is out there,” she said tentatively. “You’ve been with Andrew for ten years. Twenty when you started dating, twenty-two when you married. Maybe, just maybe, he isn’t the man you’re supposed to be with for the rest of your life.”

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I could contemplate moving on—at least not yet.

“Do you want him to move back in right now?”

“No.”

“Do you think your marriage is going to be the same even if you do work things out?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine our marriage ever being the same. Not after this.

“I stayed in my marriage much longer than I should have, hoping Keith would stop cheating and realize that he loved me. At the time, I didn’t think I could be happy without him. I was so stupid. The truth is, the day I let him go was the best day of my life. Have I found my knight in shining armor yet? Maybe not, but fuck, it’s far better to be alone than to be with someone who doesn’t respect you.”

“With all due respect,” I began slowly, “this is the first time Andrew has cheated.”

Marnie gave me a look. I wasn’t sure if it was pity or something else.

“That’s what he said. And I…I believe him.”

Marnie shrugged.

“You knew Keith was cheating on you. You always told me you felt it. You’d find phone numbers stuffed in his pockets, lipstick on his collar…”

“And some guys are smarter than Keith ever was.”

“Marnie, that’s not what I need to hear right now.”

She held up both hands. “All right. Forget about Andrew and whether or not this was the first time he cheated. My whole point is that you need to start concentrating on you. On what you need, on what’s good for you. What if what’s good for you is fresh cock?” She wriggled her eyebrows.

“Marnie!” I slapped her hand, and she laughed. I laughed, too.

“First of all, dating someone else will be a good way to take your mind off Andrew. And who knows, you just might meet the man of your dreams while you’re at it.”

“Marnie—”

“And if not…it’s been ten years and you’ve only had sex with one man.”

“That’s what happens when you’re married.”

“Tell that to guys,” Marnie mumbled.

I made a face.

“Bottom line, if all you get out of this is another sexual experience… is that so bad? It might even help.”

I stood. “Okay. Enough about my marriage.”

“What are you doing?” Marnie asked as I started to walk out of the kitchen.

“Going to take two Advil before we head out for dinner. Because if I’m going to continue to drown my sorrows in alcohol, I’m going to need more than popcorn in my stomach.”

Marnie smiled.

“And the last thing I want is a migraine if I might possibly meet the man of my dreams tonight.”

Now Marnie laughed. “That’s the spirit.”

I continued to the bedroom. I didn’t really plan on meeting anyone, but I was up for a fun evening of music and dancing.

There was no point spending the night alone in an empty house that would only remind me of Andrew.

6

As Marnie drove us to CityWalk, I couldn’t help thinking about her words.

And Andrew’s unorthodox suggestion.

Maybe my friend was right. Maybe I needed to see what else was out there, experience being with a new man before I decided what I’d do next. At the very least, I needed a diversion. Something to distract me from thoughts of Andrew cheating and the possible lawsuit his scorned lover might launch against him.

The more I mulled over the idea, the more it appealed to me. After all, I’d given Andrew no reason to cheat. I loved him. I did as much as I could to be the best wife possible. And we got along well, even if the passion of our earlier years had waned.

If he’d wanted to recharge that passion, he could have suggested something to me. Anything, really. It wasn’t as if Andrew and I couldn’t talk.

That’s what made his cheating even harder to accept. That he wasn’t the type of man I expected would betray me before talking to me about a problem.

“Do you think he isn’t attracted to me anymore?” I suddenly asked.

Marnie glanced at me as if I were crazy. “What?”

“You know. Maybe he wanted me decked out in miniskirts and tank tops all the time or something.”

“Now this is what bugs me. Women always end up blaming themselves when their man cheats. Trust me, I know.” Marnie stopped at a light, then made a right turn. “You’re beautiful, sexy, and if Andrew cheated, he’s the one with the problem—not you. That’s my whole point about seeing what else is out there. Another man—the kind who’d never betray you—might just sweep you off your feet.”

“And I thought you were such a cynic,” I teased.

“How many people are on the planet? Five billion? At least a few of those guys have to be decent and trustworthy. Oh—and hot as hell.” Marnie grinned devilishly, as though that last qualification was the most important.

“Of course,” Marnie continued, “if you decide just to look, that’s perfectly fine. A little eye candy never hurt nobody.”

“If nothing else, I’m going to have a good time tonight. You always make me laugh.”

We decided on BB King’s Blues Club, since we could kill two birds with one stone there—enjoy authentic Southern cuisine while listening to a live band.

I was dressed to the nines, in a short black skirt and low-cut red top that had heads turning as I stepped into the club. Marnie was wearing a leopard print dress that showed off her voluptuous curves. I’d been determined to head out and find a little action, but I halted, suddenly unsure.

“Hey,” Marnie said in a low voice. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” Knowing me as well as she did, she’d clearly picked up on my hesitation. “And there’s no guilt if you do choose to go for what you want. If you meet someone you like, think of it as a freebie.”

A freebie…it was an odd way to look at having an affair. And yet, Andrew had given me not only his blessing but his encouragement to go out and even the score.

“Right.” I rolled my shoulders backward to work out some of the tension, then smiled when the hostess appeared and asked if we wanted a table or to sit at the bar.

“A table,” Marnie said. “Close to the stage, if possible.”

At seven-thirty, we were seated at a table near the stage. At eight, the band began to play. Flip Side, a group of three men in their thirties and one woman with long dreads of about the same age, started their set off with “The Thrill is Gone,” B.B. King’s duet with Tracy Chapman, which warmed the crowd. Then they played some classic B.B. King numbers, some Ray Charles, Ida Cox and other blues artists from the early twentieth century. By the time they rocked the house with some Jimi Hendrix rock ’n’ roll blues, everyone was either dancing, clapping or toe tapping.

When the female singer announced that there would be an intermission before the next set, Marnie touched my hand. I looked her way. “Have you noticed a certain someone checking you out?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, and began looking around. I caught the eye of an older gentleman, who winked at me. I returned my gaze to Marnie. “Who are you talking about?”

“You really have been out of the game too long,” she said. “The drummer,” she went on, in a tone that said the answer was obvious.

“The drummer?” I quickly looked toward the stage.

“Isn’t he cute?”

I checked him out. He was thin, tall, and sported short dreadlocks. “Yes, he’s definitely cute. But not really my type.”

Marnie gaped at me. “What are you talking about? He’s hot.”

“Yeah…just not my type.”

“I don’t think he’d agree,” Marnie said in a singsong voice.

“You’re seeing things,” I told Marnie. “He didn’t check me out once.”

“He totally was,” Marnie insisted. “You should go talk to him. I think he’d make a good booty call.”

I glanced toward the stage. There was a flock of women swarming the band. I shook my head at the pitiable sight. All those women hoping to bed a musician, or maybe even find a sugar daddy.

That wasn’t for me.

“Marnie, stop worrying about my sex life. I’m out having a good time. That’s all that matters.”

“Oh, no-no-no.” She wagged a finger at me. “You’re gonna meet someone.”

Rolling my eyes, I laughed. “Sure, whatever you say.”

My gaze wandered around the bar. There were some attractive men here, but most of them were with dates. I wasn’t against the idea of meeting someone, if a guy here got me excited.

And maybe Marnie was right. I had married Andrew young. Until a few days ago, I’d never questioned that decision. But what if Andrew’s affair was a sign that we’d drifted apart, that we weren’t meant to live happily ever after?

What if there was someone else out there for me—the kind of man who would always appreciate me and never screw around?

I’d had friends in the past who’d been cheated on, and I always encouraged them to move on and find someone worthy of them. And yet, the thought of being without Andrew was very hard to contemplate.

But it was equally hard to think that I would simply accept what he’d done, forgive him and resume our life as it had been. Especially now. Would I be setting myself up for future heartache from him if I decided I wanted to save my marriage? Would he feel that if I’d forgiven him once, I would do so again…and again?

“I’m ready for another drink,” Marnie announced, her words pulling me from my thoughts. “Want another margarita?”

“Definitely,” I answered quickly. I’d certainly had enough already, but I didn’t want to think about Andrew anymore. Booze would help me forget.

As Marnie glanced around in search of our waitress, I spotted the older gentleman I’d seen eyeing me before. This time, I noticed that he was with a friend.

Both he and his friend were grinning at me now. A wink from the shorter man, and they started walking our way.

“Warning,” I said. “Creep alert.”

“Where?”

“Don’t look!” I said in an urgent whisper as Marnie started to turn her head. She abruptly halted. “Two guys who have to be in their sixties. Now they’re heading this way. Shit.”

“Just what I like,” Marnie muttered. “Old men with hard-ons.”

“They’re definitely interested in us.” I could see them getting closer through my peripheral vision. As they reached our table, I whispered, “Showtime.”

“Hello, ladies,” the shorter man said. He was probably five foot nine, with a medium brown complexion and a beer gut. He also seemed to have eyes only for me. “How about a dance?”

“Sorry,” Marnie said sweetly. “We were just about to order dessert.”

“We don’t mind waiting,” the other man said. He was darker skinned, taller, and quite handsome—but about thirty years too old for either of us. “We can show you a thing or two on the dance floor.”

“I’m married,” I pointed out. “Sorry.”

“Thanks for the offer, though,” Marnie said. She barely suppressed a smile as she added, “We’re flattered.”

“All right,” the taller man conceded. “But if you change your mind…”

“We won’t,” Marnie told him.

The two men wandered off. Marnie made a face, then burst out laughing.

“In their defense, they did seem nice,” I said. I’d assumed they’d be creeps because so often creeps approached me.

“Yeah, but you know they’ve got to be back at the nursing home by nine.”

“Marnie!”

“I’ve got nothing against old people. Just old people who think I’m going to sleep with them. If I’m going to fuck someone, he’s going to be young, hot and able to maintain an erection.”

“Enough, Marnie.” I shook my head. “Let’s hit the dance floor.”

Marnie and I worked our way to the dance floor in front of the stage. I noticed our two suitors talking to two women younger than Marnie and me. At least they took rejection well.

Marnie shook her hips to the rock ’n’ roll beat. “Ooh, he’s cute.”

I didn’t bother looking at the guy she was referring to. Marnie’s eyes continued to bounce over the crowd. She was clearly on the prowl, but I suspected more for herself than for me.

No sooner were we shaking our butts on the dance floor to the latest Beyoncé hit than Marnie leaned close and whispered, “Oh, over there. He’s pretty hot.”

She pointed, and I followed the direction of her finger. I saw a guy who was probably twenty-two, with a decent build, and a very attractive face.

Seeing me, he smiled. And revealed a mouth full of gold teeth.

“Ew!” Marnie and I proclaimed at the same time.

“Okay, so he’s a negative,” Marnie said. “But there’ll be someone else.”

Halfway through the song, Marnie raised her eyebrows at me. I wondered what she was trying to tell me—until I felt someone’s hand on my arm.

I glanced over my shoulder at the stranger, saw a teddy bear of a man with dark skin. Normally, I would have pulled away from him. Like I’d pulled away from the men in the Bahamas who’d wanted to dance with me. But this time, I didn’t pull away.

I shook my butt against his groin, having some fun with teasing him. He grew hard in an instant, his cock now pressing against the top of my ass. Before, I would have been wary of this and backed off. But tonight, his erection turned me on, reminding me that I was a desirable woman.

Something Andrew had forgotten.

I got bolder, bending forward slightly while pushing my ass harder against him. He planted his hands on my hips and pulled me against his cock, and as we danced, our bodies moved like we were fucking with clothes on.

“Sweet Jesus,” the man said.

Giggling, I turned to face him. He was grinning at me as though I were the sexiest woman in the world. The look lifted my spirits. Yes, I was beautiful and sexy and had a hell of a lot to offer.

We continued to dance close, but not too close this time, our hips pumping to the fast beat. At the end of the second song, I leaned forward and patted the man’s arm in a friendly gesture. “Thanks for the dance,” I said.

“You’re gonna leave a brother hanging like that?”

I shrugged apologetically. “I’m married.”

“Married?” He sounded surprised. “Damn, girl.”

“I know,” I said, a hint of self-chastising in my voice. “I guess I got carried away. But, yes, I am a married woman. Out having a little bit of fun.”

“That’s it?” His eyebrows lifted hopefully.

“Yes. That’s it.”

“All right.” The man nodded his understanding. “Lucky man.”

I turned around and saw Marnie, who was standing with two margaritas in hand. She must have gotten them while I’d been dancing.

“Having fun?” she asked, offering me a drink.

“Yes,” I answered honestly. I sipped the new magarita. “And I made a decision about something,” I found myself saying.

“Oh?”

“If I meet someone, I’m gonna go for it.”

“Woo-hoo!” Marnie gave me a high five, and I had to quickly steady my glass so my drink didn’t spill. “Does that mean you like that guy?”

“No. Not him. He’s nice, but…he’s more fun. I want someone who makes me hot with one look.”

One dance, and I was in the mood to get lucky. One dance had reminded me that I was a beautiful woman with a lot to offer. A woman who didn’t deserve to have her husband cheat on her.

Andrew had said I should even the score. Marnie said I should see if there was a better match out there for me.

Well, I would at least even the playing field. If I was ever going to forgive Andrew, I needed to do this.

And satisfy my own curiosity in the process.

I’d been with only one other man before Andrew, and the experience had been horrendous. Chad, my high school boyfriend. I’d been into him, but I wasn’t in love. Partway during some heavy foreplay I told him I didn’t think I could go through with having sex. He ignored me, got rougher, and took my virginity despite my cries to get off me.

My experience with Andrew had been totally different. He hadn’t pressured me the way Chad had. Instead, he’d taken his time and waited until I was truly ready. If, while kissing, he sensed any hesitation on my part, he pulled away. I really loved that about him, and when I gave Andrew my heart and my body after eight months of dating, I knew that it would be forever.

The memory hurt, and I downed my drink. Then eyed the men in the crowd.

With Andrew having been my only positive sexual experience, I’d naturally been curious about what it might be like to be intimate with another man. Curious, but not tempted.

Until now.

Marnie flagged down a passing waitress with a tray of pink- colored shooters. She bought two.

“I don’t know, Marnie.”

“If we get too drunk, we’ll call a cab.” She offered me the shooter.

“Absolutely.” I took the glass, and on the count of three, we both downed the shots.

I don’t even know what the alcohol was, but it had a citrusy tang to it. It warmed my insides, and made my buzz come back with full force.

The sounds of Wyclef Jean filled the club, and my inhibitions gone, I threw my hands in the air and seductively moved my body.

“Girl, you are getting some serious attention,” Marnie informed me. “You should see all the guys checking you out.”

I glanced around coyly, noticed several eyes staring my way. But I didn’t notice anyone who got my libido going, and I was starting to wonder if I would.

“That guy right there,” Marnie said, pointing through the crowd of people to a man that was hard to miss. He was tall, and had muscles all over from what I could tell. He was dark skinned and handsome, but I didn’t feel a spark of attraction as I stole a glance at him.

I shook my head. “No.”

“You are being way too picky.”

“It has to be the right guy,” I said. It wasn’t hard for a woman to find a man to fuck. All she had to do was ask. But I didn’t want to bed just anyone. It had to be a guy who gave me butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

I continued dancing, gyrating my hips in a motion meant to seduce. I knew guys were watching me. Their blatant stares made me remember that, at my core, I was a sexy woman.

I made my hip movements even sexier. Thanks to the alcohol, I was feeling good. No pain, as they say.

When the beat picked up with an Usher tune, I gripped my skirt in both hands and shimmied my dress around my legs, showing off tempting amounts of skin. My eyes were closed, my head moving from side to side.

“Damn, girl,” a male voice said, and I opened my eyes. “You’re fittin’ to give a brother a heart attack.”

I smiled graciously at the man I’d danced with earlier. He brazenly licked his bottom lip as I kept dancing.

He leaned in close. “Your husband know you dance like this when he ain’t around?”

I didn’t answer, just shook my hips.

“You look like you want a little something something,” the teddy bear whispered. “I can give you what you need.”

I wondered if my desire for sex was painted on my forehead.

“I’m just here to have fun,” I said, reiterating what I’d told the man earlier. From behind the man, I could see Marnie giving me two thumbs up.

“I can show you fun.” He placed a hand on my waist.

“That’s no way to speak to a married woman,” I teased.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Sophie. Yours?”

“Teddy.”

No way. I started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Just that…I was thinking you kind of look like a teddy bear, and here your name is Teddy.” I shrugged when Teddy didn’t crack a smile. “Maybe it’s not that funny after all.”

I soon realized why he hadn’t smiled. Because he was seriously checking me out. The look Teddy gave me was smoldering. It traveled over my face, paused on my lips, then went lower, to my breasts. It screamed “I want to fuck you.”

“You never step out on your man?” Teddy asked.

I smiled sweetly, hoping he’d take my rejection well. I was starting to get a tad worried, wondering if this guy wasn’t the type who liked to hear no. “Like I said, I’m just here to dance and have a little fun.”

“All right.” Teddy shrugged, and I was relieved. Knowing he’d lost the fight, he wandered away.

As he disappeared into the crowd, I asked myself what was wrong with him? He was cute, had a nice body. Most women wouldn’t kick him out of bed in the morning. So why was I rejecting him?

Maybe I was deluding myself. Perhaps I was all talk in terms of thinking I could have an affair, when in reality I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

Marnie leaned her head in close. “Seriously, Soph, what’s wrong with him? He could have me in a bear hug all night long and I wouldn’t complain. Not one bit.”

“Maybe I should go.”

“Don’t be so hasty. The night is young. And don’t forget, you’re not looking for a new husband. Just someone to give you a night of endless orgasms.”

As I started to laugh, I felt someone’s eyes on me. As surely as if someone had reached out and touched me.

Slowly, I turned. Got a jolt when my eyes connected with his.

And in that instant, I knew.

He was the one.

7

As my eyes made contact with the sexy stranger’s, the corners of his mouth lifted in the slightest of smiles. It wasn’t a polite smile, but the kind that seemed to say I want you.

My heart fluttered as I returned his smile. Then I elbowed Marnie. “I think I’m in business. Over there. The guy with the dark hair hanging past his shoulders.”

“Ooh, the one who looks a bit like Antonio Banderas? I didn’t know you were into Spanish guys.”

Now that Marnie mentioned it, yes, he did look a bit like Antonio Banderas, but with slightly darker skin. He looked black, but mixed with another race. Maybe white. Maybe Hispanic. All that mattered to me was that he was hot, and that he was the first guy I’d had a connection with tonight.

“I haven’t been into any guy besides my husband,” I pointed out.

“Whatever you do, don’t mention the word ‘husband’ when that guy gets here. Cuz honey, with the way he’s looking at you, you know he’ll be here any second.”

I met the man’s gaze again. Even though he was about twenty feet away, I could see the lust simmering in his eyes.

Lust for me.

That reality turned me on.

I swallowed, knowing that I was feeling the same lust. This was the connection I’d been hoping to find. Something instantaneous, and electric.

And yet, this was foreign territory. I hadn’t allowed myself to feel sexual attraction for another man in the past ten years.

The man started toward me, and my heart thundered in my chest. The very fact that I hadn’t been with another man in ten years suddenly got to me, making me nervous. Would my heart really let me go through with this, even though my brain said I should?

“Shit, Marnie. He’s heading over here. What do I say? Maybe having an affair is really a crazy idea.”

“You say hi,” Marnie told me, and gave me a little shove.

I stumbled slightly into the man’s path, feeling like an idiot as I did so. I shot an annoyed look over my shoulder at Marnie, who gave me a false apologetic look.

Then I drew in a breath and turned back to the man.

“Hello,” he said. He had some sort of accent. Maybe Marnie was right and he was Spanish.

“Hi,” I responded. “How are you tonight?” Duh! Couldn’t I have thought of something more intriguing to say?

He chuckled softly. “I’m well. And you?”

“Oh, I’m feeling pretty good.” Okay, I had to stop drinking. I sounded like an idiot.

The man’s eyes roamed over me from head to toe, and I got the feeling that no matter how foolish I sounded, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You are very beautiful,” he said simply. But his eyes said he wanted to have me for dessert.

“Thank you.”

“May I buy you another drink?”

“Oh, no.” I waved off the suggestion. “I think I’ve had enough.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well, maybe one more wouldn’t hurt,” I said, backtracking. My nerves had me babbling. That, and the realization that if I was actually going to have an affair, I could use some more liquid courage.

“Strawberry margarita?” he asked.

“How did you know that?”

“I noticed,” he replied, making me wonder if he’d been watching me for longer than I’d realized, orif he’d simply made a lucky guess.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and started for the bar.

I watched him go, butterflies dancing up a storm in my stomach. He was sexy, no doubt about it. He also had a mysterious quality about him. Something that was a little dark.

And a lot tempting.

“Girl, if you don’t like him,” Marnie said into my ear.

“I do,” I responded. “He looks like exactly what I need. Very different from Andrew.” Which was important. I didn’t want to fuck a guy who would have me thinking about my husband. I wanted someone different. A guy who didn’t wear a suit and tie every day. A guy who looked like he had a bit of a bad boy in him.

That was the man who wore a devilish grin as he approached me carrying two frosty drinks. He wore black jeans and a white shirt that was unbuttoned to the mid part of his chest. He had no chest hair that I could see, but perhaps closer to his navel…

“One drink for you,” he said, handing one to me. “And one for your friend.”

“Why thank you,” Marnie said, accepting the drink.

“Yes, thank you,” I echoed. And it was nice of him to buy a drink for Marnie. It was a small thing, but the last time I’d been out with Marnie and Andrew, Andrew had asked Marnie for cash before heading to the bar to buy her drink. I’d been embarrassed that he couldn’t fork out the cash to buy a drink for my friend.

Andrew could be very frugal—and not just where Marnie was concerned. He said it was because we were saving for a family. I understood the argument but missed the romantic gestures of our early days. He no longer did spontaneous romantic things like send me flowers on occasion or surprise me with my favorite perfume.

“What’s your name?” the man asked.

“Sophie,” I replied. “Yours?”

“Pietro. But you can call me Peter.”

“Pietro? What is that?”

“Italian,” he responded.

“Aww. I guess that means you’re Italian.” Brilliant deduction, Sophie. I sipped the margarita, though I clearly didn’t need it.

He nodded. “And you are stunning. I’m sorry if I can’t stop staring at you. I’ve simply never met a woman more beautiful.”

I’d been married for eight years, and out of the game, as Marnie had said. But I still knew a line when I heard one. And yet, my vagina throbbed at the compliment nonetheless. It was the way he was looking at me that had me believing everything he said. His eyes had an intensity that was both unnerving and thrilling. I had the feeling that he could look inside my mind and see everything I was thinking.

Everything I wanted.

“To be exact, I am part African, part Italian.”

“And part hot,” I blurted out, then laughed at my uncharacteristic boldness.

He reached for my hand. I let him hold it. “You’re not shy, are you?”

“What I am is a little drunk.” I swayed slightly, proving my point. “Say something to me in Italian. Anything.”

“Tu guardi bella.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, impressed. “What does it mean?”

“It means you look beautiful.”

Peter’s eyes were steadfast on mine. The heat in his gaze literally warmed my skin.

“Are you married?” he asked.

My eyes narrowed as I looked up at Peter. “Why would you ask that?”

He ran the pad of his thumb over the base of my bare ring finger. “You used to wear a ring there. Am I right?”

I laughed nervously. “Are you psychic?”

“No. I’m interested.”

Peter got to the point in a way I liked—a lot. I sipped some of my drink. “Thank you for the drink.”

“You said that already.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Peter leaned his lips close to my ear, so close they almost touched my skin. “Did he hurt you—your husband?”

Was he particularly astute, or did every betrayed woman out on the town act the way I was, to the point where it was a cliché?

“Did he?” Peter repeated.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want a commitment with this man. Only a night of delicious sex. “Yes, he hurt me,” I said, answering honestly. “But I’m out tonight because I want to forget all about that.”

“I can help you forget.”

From any other man, I would consider this conversation extremely forward. But perhaps Peter had known just by looking at me that I would welcome his advances.

That I needed him to make the first move.

“Yes,” I agreed. “I suppose you can.”

During our conversation, we’d been mildly moving our bodies to the music. Now, Peter wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Though a fast song was playing, he gyrated his hips against mine—slowly. His erection left nothing to the imagination.

I matched his movements, my own slow and seductive. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling, and this felt right.

Balancing the drink in my hand, I turned so that my ass was now against Peter’s cock. I shook my ass against him, and grinned when a primal groan escaped his throat.

My drink was in the way. I took a few steps to a nearby table and plopped it down. Then I danced my way back to Peter, my hands in the air, my hips moving left to right.

He met me, and together we danced, this time keeping up with the fast rhythm. His fingers moved up and down my arms, leaving delicious sensations in their wake. He stroked my face, dipped his mouth close to mine. Pulled his face away without kissing me.

So the man was a tease.

I stroked his chest through his shirt, then with the tip of one finger dared to touch his exposed skin. I let my other hand wander lower, and Peter’s eyes widened in both surprise and expectation. I pulled my hand away before it reached his groin.

Peter laughed, slipped his hands around my waist. “I want to take you home.”

“I want you to take me home,” I replied.

Everything was easy between us. Easy and electric. I’d even forgotten all about Marnie while flirting with Peter on the dance floor. I glanced around, but didn’t see her.

The band was back onstage, preparing for their next set. “This is a good time to leave,” Peter said.

“I’m just looking for my friend,” I said. “Will you excuse me for a minute?”

Peter nodded. “Of course.”

I looked around the club but didn’t see Marnie anywhere. I found myself strolling toward the restrooms.

It was crowded inside, but I spotted Marnie immediately. She was in front of a mirror at the far end of the restroom.

I made my way over to her, and her face lit up when she saw me. “Hey, girl!”

“Everything okay?” I asked.

She planted a hand on a hip. “Girl, you missed the drama.”

My eyes widened in alarm. “What happened?”

“Some asshole made a play for me. You remember the guy with the gold teeth?”

“What did he do?”

Marnie applied face powder. “Stuck his hand down my top.”

“What?” I asked, outraged.

“It’s okay. I told him if he ever touched me again, I’d break all his fingers one by one.”

I smiled. My friend had balls bigger than most guys’.

“Then Walt and Denny came over and gave the guy a talking- to. Told him he needed to learn to respect women.”

“Hold up,” I said. “Walt and Denny?”

Marnie rested her hip against the sink as she faced me. “The two older guys who were checking us out.”

“Wait a minute—the ones you were making fun of for being old? Now you’re on a first-name basis with them?”

Marnie produced her lipstick from her purse. “Actually, they’re very sweet. And Denny—the taller one—is quite something on the dance floor. We’re having a good time.”

I shook my head, but I was grinning.

“A platonic time, of course,” Marnie stressed. “Walt and Denny are nothing like the hottie who’s all over you.” Marnie paused, pressed her lips together to even out her lipstick. “It looks like everything is going very well with him.”

“He said he wants to take me home.”

“When are you leaving?”

I hesitated. In the heat of the moment, I’d been ready to leave with Peter. But now that I was talking with Marnie, I was suddenly having doubts.

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” I said. “I don’t have a car, which means I’d have to leave with him…and is that smart?”

“You’re considering fucking him but you don’t want to leave with him?”

“Not so loud, please,” I whispered, glancing around. The other women were either applying makeup or hanging around chatting. Women’s restrooms were about so much more than using the toilets.

“You don’t think he’s a creep, do you?”

“No,” I answered easily. “But you know, I haven’t done this, like ever. I want to be smart.”

Marnie nodded. “Okay, the way I see it, you have a couple options. One—there’s the Hard Rock Hotel across the way. You can spend the night there. Or, I can drive you to this guy’s place. Just make sure to casually slip in that your friend is a cop. That should do the trick.”

“I like the hotel idea.” This was only going to be a one-night stand, not the start of forever. We could fuck each other, then leave in the morning and never have to see each other again.

“You have money for a cab?” Marnie asked.

“Yes, I’ve got cash.” I always had a good amount of money in my wallet. Andrew had drummed into my head the necessity of having cash on hand in case of an emergency.

Marnie put her makeup back into her purse and snapped it shut. “I’ll drive you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I had a couple tall glasses of water and now my buzz is gone. I’m good to go.”

“What about Walt and Denny?” I asked.

Marnie laughed. “I think they’ll be fine without me.”

We exited the bathroom. I glanced around, but didn’t see Peter anywhere. I frowned. “I don’t see him.”

“He’s got to be around somewhere,” Marnie said.

“You know what—let’s just go.”

“What?”

“He’s not here…maybe that’s a sign.”

“But he could be in the rest—”

“I’ve made up my mind.” I wrapped my fingers around Marnie’s forearm and steered her toward the club’s exit. Now that Peter was nowhere to be found, I was taking the chicken’s way out.

“Oh, all right.” Marnie sounded disappointed.

“I thought I was ready, but…” My voice trailed off. But what? Why was I running?

The answer came to me in the next instant. I was running because I was afraid of the intense reaction I was having to Peter. How easily a man who wasn’t my husband turned me on and made me want to get naked.

A man who was a stranger.

When we stepped outside, the air was warm and moist, but far more refreshing than the sweat-filled air in the club. My head swayed a little, reminding me that I’d had too much to drink. Marnie offered me her arm, and we began to walk.

We strolled past the various clubs along CityWalk, passing giggling groups of young women in skimpy clothes. Their night was just beginning, while I was headed home.

Sexually frustrated.

“Sophie!”

Marnie stopped abruptly. Her face lit up. “Did you hear that?”

I did, and my stomach jumped. Slowly, I turned, secretly excited that Peter had followed me out.

But when I saw who’d called me, my stomach jumped again— this time from fear.

8

“Oh, my God,” I muttered, dread rushing through my body. I suddenly got the sense that something terrible was about to happen, the way I had the night everything had gone so horribly wrong with Chad.

The night he’d taken my virginity against my protests.

“What?” Marnie asked.

“That’s not Peter. It’s the guy from the bar. The buff guy who was hitting on me.”

“No big deal,” Marnie said.

“I told him I wasn’t interested,” I said, turning around. “I told him I was married. So why’s he following me out of the bar?”

I didn’t give Marnie a chance to answer, and instead began walking briskly, taking her along with me.

“Maybe he’s a little drunk,” Marnie said. “You know guys with liquid courage. I’m sure he’s harmless.”

“He’s reminding me of Chad.”

“Chad?” Marnie asked, sounding shocked.

“Yes, damn it! Chad.” Every fiber in my being was saying that this guy was trouble. That I’d taken my flirting with him too far and now I was going to pay for it.

“Sophie!” He sounded closer.

I let go of Marnie’s arm and started to run. More of a jog, really, considering my high heels.

“He’s not Chad,” Marnie said. “Don’t freak out.”

Marnie didn’t understand. She hadn’t been raped. I had, and the same instincts I’d ignored that night were telling me to run like hell now.

Suddenly, Teddy was in front of me. I jolted to a stop. Before I could turn, he grabbed me by my upper arms.

“Sophie,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Why the hell you running away?”

“I told you, I’m married,” I said, stressing the word as I shrugged out of his touch. “Will you please just leave me alone?”

“I only want to talk to you.”

“What part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?” Marnie asked. I guess she finally realized this guy was more of a pest than I needed to deal with, even if his plan wasn’t to rape me.

“I’m not talking to you,” Teddy said to Marnie. Then he turned back to me. “I want to get to know you. Maybe take you for a drink. I’ll take things slow.” He bit down on his bottom lip as lust pooled in his eyes. “Damn, you’re beautiful.”

I didn’t say anything. I stood, paralyzed, Teddy’s words making me remember the night with Chad. How it had started out as a date with someone I liked, but ended with emotional trauma I wasn’t sure I’d ever lose.

“Go home, buddy,” Marnie told Teddy. “Sleep it off.”

“You’re not really married, are you?” Teddy asked me.

“All right,” Marnie said. “Enough. We’re leaving.” She took hold of my arm and started to move.

But Teddy grabbed my elbow, yanking me backward with so much force that I actually cried out.

“So what the fuck was that in the club?” Teddy demanded, clearly feeling I owed him an explanation. “Were you just being a cock tease? That it? Get a guy hard, then leave him hanging?”

Marnie stepped between us. “Now you’ve crossed a line. Get the fuck out of here, asshole.”

Teddy gave Marnie a shove, knocking her to the ground.

“Marnie!” I screamed, just as Teddy grabbed my arm and yanked me against his hard chest. But just as quickly he let me go, his eyes bulging in surprise a moment before he whipped his head around.

In an instant, I saw why.

Peter.

Peter had grabbed Teddy by the collar and jerked him off me. He glowered at Teddy, asking, “Why are you bothering the lady?”

Even though my heart was pounding, I couldn’t help smiling. And being grateful that Peter had come looking for me.

“Who the hell are you?” Teddy asked.

“The person who will be your nightmare if you touch Sophie again.” Peter rammed both of his hands into Teddy’s chest, and he stumbled backward, nearly falling.

Teddy’s hateful eyes landed on me, then he turned to Peter. “You want her? Fine. A woman like that—she’s nothing but trouble. Fucking cock tease!”

Marnie, fuming, came to stand by my side. Her hands were balled into fists and I suspected she wanted to kick Teddy’s ass for touching her. “Touch me again—no, say another word—and you’ll live to regret it.”

I smiled at her, thankful for her guts. I wished I had half of her bravado.

Peter stared Teddy down, emphasizing Marnie’s threat. Teddy tried to look tough, but I saw a hint of defeat in his dark eyes. Peter was at least six foot two, a good two inches taller than Teddy. Even though Teddy had more weight on him, there was no mistaking the very serious look on Peter’s face that said not to mess with him. Teddy clearly got the message, and began backing up.

But his eyes were on me, menacing. An unspoken threat.

Then the jerk turned around and marched back toward the club.

With Teddy gone, Peter slipped his arms around my waist. I was surprised at how much comfort his touch gave me, considering I’d only met him tonight.

“Who was that guy?” Peter asked.

“Someone I met in the club. I guess he was hoping to take me home.”

“Asshole,” Marnie quipped. “A guy wants you but you don’t want him, he turns into a prick.”

I glanced at my friend, shooting her an appreciative look. Marnie never failed to come to my defense. The night everything had happened with Chad, she’d wanted to rip his eyes out—literally. I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, but she’d gone to the dean of our university on my behalf, and while Chad hadn’t been arrested, he’d been questioned and reprimanded.

“Peter, this is my best friend, Marnie. I didn’t get to introduce you in the club.”

“Hello,” Marnie and Peter said in unison.

Peter returned his attention to me. He looked a little confused as he said, “You left without me.”

I glanced down, embarrassed.

“Were you planning to come back?” Peter went on.

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. But I did feel foolish for having run out on him.

Marnie cleared her throat. “Sophie?”

I turned to look at her.

“I’m gonna be going now, okay? Are you coming with me, or…”

Peter’s fingers tightened on my waist, a silent plea. I gazed into his eyes, and knew I was going nowhere but with him.

“Or,” I replied with a smile.

The edges of Marnie’s lips curled. “Call me when you get where you’re going. And Peter, so you know—my boyfriend’s a cop.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to treat your friend very well.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.