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“Don’t you want Wyatt to fuck you, baby?”
He stands silent for a moment, glancing between Wyatt and me and Mel. “I mean, eventually. I figured we’d have to work up to that, if I’m being honest.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks anywhere but directly at anyone.
“Oh, this isn’t a one-time thing?” Wyatt asks, surprised.
Mel laughs. “Oh, my sweet, precious Wyatt. I went to Mexico a horny woman, but I came back with a determination the likes of which you’ve never seen. If we’re doing this, we’re doing this. My new motto is that I don’t fuck men I know unless I can come back for more.”
The growl that escapes my throat surprises me. “There is no more ‘men you know’. Not anymore. Not after tonight.”
Her eyes flare with desire, and she turns to Nate. “You hear that, baby? He’s staking a claim on your wife.”
Walking towards him and grabbing my hand so that I follow, she stops in front of her husband, pulling me into her body so that she’s wedged in between the two of us.
“I did hear that, and it makes me really fucking hot,” he answers.
He kisses her, and I pay attention, taking notes on what he does to elicit a response from her. Finally, he pulls back and kisses her once on each temple and then on her forehead.
“No jealousy?”
“Nope.”
“No anger or frustration?”
“Not a bit.”
“Open and honest communication?”
“Of course.”
“And you’ll always come back to me?”
“Oh, baby. Always.”
“Then take all that you want and give all that you can.”
Chapter 12
one step at a time
Wyatt
Nate and Mel’s connection has always been the stuff of dreams, but the conversation they just had blows my mind. In a very good way.
Alex and I have fantasized about faceless ambiguous people in the past. We’ve always been very interested in spouse swapping or swinging, but we’ve never trusted anyone enough to actually go through with it.
Until now.
“Alex, we have a problem we must rectify immediately.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“You’re still wearing all your clothes,” I say, stepping towards him and pulling him away from Mel for one last moment.
I lean down and kiss my husband like I fucking mean it, my hands framing his face and his clutching my wrists. He doesn’t pull back until he needs air, and he rests his forehead against mine.
“I love you, Wy,” he whispers.
“I love you, Alex. That will never change.”
