Her fingers traced my lips. “Sometimes, I think you’re too good to be true. All of this. Us. I don’t deserve this.”
“You deserve this and more. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. I can’t imagine how I got so lucky to find you. Now I’m going to make sure you always know that I’m the lucky one. Come on, grab your wine,” I picked up her glass for her, and she took it, and then I got my own. I grabbed her other hand and led her out to the deck.
“Oh!” she said, her eyes twinkling in the lights. “It’s lovely. You did this all for me?”
“I did.” I felt so proud. “I didn’t even get any help. I gave everyone the day off and stayed in to do it myself.”
“You weren’t at a meeting all day?”
“I was. It was a meeting with the kitchen and a very long video conference with your mother. We’ve gotten to know each other very well.”
She laughed and hugged me around the waist. “Well, cooking with her is certainly the best way to do that,” she said. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
“I did it for you.”
I tried to seat her across the table from me, but she refused and made me bring my chair so that I could sit next to her, so that she could touch me. She never stopped touching me, all through dinner. At first, it was just a brush here or there or a kiss in thanks after telling me how delicious the meal was. She fed me vegetables from her fingers and then made her way into my lap. Then we pretty much forgot about dinner and just made out.
“You’re ruining my dinner,” I told her as she devoured my lips instead.
“You’re my dessert,” she said and nibbled her way down my throat.
“I actually have a flourless chocolate torte for dessert.”
“Mmm, that sounds delicious. And you remembered that I don’t eat gluten. Did my mother help you?”
“No. I remembered on my own.”
She inhaled and smiled and kissed me again. “Let’s save the torte for after.”
“After?”
“After…” She slid her hand down my chest and into my pants.
“You convinced me. Dessert can wait.”
I stood up, carrying her with me. She threw back her head and laughed as I left the dinner table and swept her into the house, through the living room, and into our bedroom. I tossed her on the bed, where she bounced once and whipped my t-shirt over her head, leaving her in the tiniest silk panties that I intended to take off with my teeth. I nearly ripped my shirt trying to unbutton it, but before I got it off, she was on her knees in front of me, undoing my pants and taking me in hand.
Meeting my eyes, she kissed my cock and then slipped her lips around it, swallowing deep. So hot. So wet. I groaned and tangled my hands into her hair as she moved up and down, driving me crazy. So crazy.
“Oh, baby, stop. Stop. Not yet. It’s too soon.”
She pulled back and wiped at her full lips, and I growled, tossing her back onto the bed so that I could devour her. First, her lips, our tongues meeting and clashing, hungry for each other. Then her warm, sweet skin, smelling like lavender from her bath. “I adore you,” I breathed into her flesh, sliding down her collarbone to her breasts, where I could take her nipples in my mouth and suck, drawing high keening cries from the lips of my wife. Mine.
“Will,” she whimpered. “Will, please, I want you.”
She could still speak. I wanted her lost. I wanted her delirious. I wanted her on edge. So I moved to the other breast, teasing her, kissing her, licking her, and biting her until she writhed underneath me. I licked down her belly until I found her wet heat, and I tasted her, tasted her passion. Oh, she was better than anything else I could have had. Sweet and salt and spice all blended together with this woman who had made me feel more than any other person in the world.
I wanted her out of control. I wanted her out of her mind. I wanted her to lose the mask that she kept up to keep her safe. I wanted her to let me in.
She screamed. Her back arched. “Oh,” she cried. “Oh, oh.” Her cries devolved into moans and whimpers as she reached down and held onto me, pulling me up and wrapping her legs around me. “Please.”
She was nothing but longing and desire now, melting into me as I entered her. She clung to me, moaning. “Will… Will… Oh my god. I love you, Will. Oh, oh, oh. I love you.”
I thrust into her harder than before as she came around me, her muscles clenching on me as I exploded into her. The barriers between us had been tossed down, dissolved in heat and sweat and soft skin—and, yes, love.
I collapsed on top of her, then rolled over, dragging her until she was half on top of me, still panting, still gasping for air and wordless. “Baby,” I said and kissed her forehead.
This was the rest of our lives.
Everything changed. My wife loved me. I loved her. There was no act to play. There was just being in love. Fine, it was in the public eye, but we’d both known that would be the story. Now, though, it was a real love story, not just pretend.
I couldn’t believe that it made me so happy. My secretary was flabbergasted, and she kept checking on me to make sure I wasn’t replaced by a pod person. I laughed at her and sent her a basket of dragon fruit, which made her squeal and had her and the rest of the office laughing all day.
I’d just come back from lunch with Birdie. She’d picked this time. Sushi it was. I’d give her anything she wanted, but I liked sushi. I was back in my office, working on a new project with some tech that had surprising future capabilities when there was a knock on the door.
“Come,” I said.
It was Suzanne. Everything about her was sharp, from her black stilettos to her inky pantsuit to her icy blonde bob. She looked about ready to cut me to pieces.
“Uh-oh. This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”
Her eyes didn’t send me that sly glance that they would if I was making too much of it. This was going to be bad.
I sat up straighter. “Okay, give it to me straight.”
She held a manila envelope in her hand, clutching it to her chest like she didn’t want to let it get away from her.
“This was sent to you. You know I check all your mail addressed to you.”
“That’s part of your job.”
She pinched her lips together.
I held out my hand for the envelope. “Just get it over with. Hand it over.”
Here was the scandal we’d been suspecting, I knew. All those women I’d had affairs with, and all those possibilities for my past to catch up to me. I had to expect it, especially now that I was in the gossip pages for my marriage with Birdie. There were still some who, rightfully, it turned out, didn’t believe it and thought it was just all for show. But it wasn’t. Birdie and I were in love, and we could weather this storm.
I sighed and opened the flap, drawing out the photos, bracing myself. It turned out, I was not braced for it at all.
“This is Birdie.”
I knew Suzanne nodded, although I couldn’t take my eyes from the photos. It was Birdie, standing in some private space in some man’s arms. Hugging him. My jealousy swelled until my body could barely contain it. I felt the heat rise in me.
Hugging. It was just hugging.
I switched to the next photo. The hug was closer, more intimate. Her head was bent into him.