Chapter Five

Sam was normally a pretty easy guy to read. He was straightforward with his feelings, up-front when he was having a bad day or needed some time to himself, a completely open book that Abby could read without trouble. For the last week, though, ever since what she’d been thinking of as Kink Night, he’d been…reserved. Normally, she wouldn’t have read too much into it. She’d tell herself that he was busy at work, and he probably was, but she wouldn’t dwell on it longer than that. Now, with whatever this “give a fantasy, get a fantasy” game they had been playing, she kept ruminating on every action of his like it might mean way more than she expected. After all, it was his turn to share a fantasy, and he’d given no sign of wanting to do anything else. In fact, up until going to the gym last night, he’d been mopey as hell, and then he’d come home late via cab, drunk on a weeknight. It wasn’t like him.

So, sitting at dinner that Friday night, Abby geared up toward ending their game. She’d been rehearsing the speech in the mirror, about how he was obviously upset after playing with power exchange, and they’d gotten in over their heads too fast, and he would clearly be happier if they went back to the way things used to be. She wasn’t even going to talk about how the whole “fantasy swap” had been a bad idea that he hadn’t been ready for. She took a deep breath, and let it out.

“So I’ve been thinking.”

Sam paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, and then carefully finished his bite before setting down the fork and chewing. He had that wide-eyed innocent look that meant she was taking him totally by surprise.

“I know you’re upset about the way things went last weekend,” she began, ready to segue into the part about calling everything off.

Sam interrupted her, still giving her that wide-eyed, taken-aback stare. “I’m not upset.”

Bullshit. “You’ve been distant all week. You’ve been kind of weird ever since we did it. Like you’ve got a secret.” She paused, and he spoke into the silence.

“I look like I’ve got a secret because I’ve got a secret.” He smiled, taking another bite of his dinner.

What? Sam was shit at keeping secrets. He got too excited about buying her presents and always wanted to give them to her early, having more fun watching her on Christmas morning (or Christmas Eve, if he couldn’t wait) than he did opening his own gifts.

As if reading her mind, he added, “You know I’m awful at keeping secrets.”

“What’s the secret?” Abby set down her own fork.

Sam shook his head. “After dinner. It’s part of the fantasy I want to share with you.”

What the hell? She had not expected him to be ready to share a fantasy, not after being weird all week.

“You’ve been weird all week about this. Now you’re saying it’s fine?”

Sam shrugged. “I had a talk with Mitchell from the gym. He helped me figure some stuff out that had been bothering me.” He gestured to her plate. “Aren’t you gonna have any more? It’s really delicious.”

Boggling, Abby narrowed her eyes, mouth open in confusion. “So you’re just fine now?”

Sam tipped his head to the side. “I don’t know if I’m fine, but I’m better than I was. And I want to keep going, because I’m having a really good time fulfilling fantasies with you.”

Was he telling the truth? She scrutinized him.

“I’m not lying,” he insisted. Damn, he was too good at knowing what she was thinking when it came to things like this. “I really do have another fantasy I want to share with you.”

“Another one?” She’d been ready for him to want to wait a while.

He laughed. “Yeah, another one. You think I just have the one, that sex club fantasy, and that was it?”

“Is that what your secret is?”

“Partially.” He hesitated. “I’ll show you after dinner.”

After dinner, she followed him into the bedroom and joined him on the edge of the bed, anticipation already zinging down her spine. “You remember how we used to go out dancing all the time when we were dating?” he asked.

“Yeah.” It had been one of their favorite hobbies. “We stopped when you broke your foot.”

“And never got back to it.” He looked tense, expectant. “I want us to go out dancing again.”

There had to be something more to this than that. Dancing wasn’t a fantasy; it was something they used to do. “Tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.” He pulled a small box out of his nightstand drawer and held it close to his body, obscuring whatever the labeling said, before handing it to her. “And I want you to wear this.”

The white box pictured a curved, U-shaped teal device. Puzzled, she opened the box, and a silicone toy tumbled into her lap. She pushed and held the only button it seemed to have, and it buzzed once in her hand, making her drop it back on her lap.

Oh.

Oh.

Sam’s expression told her all she needed to know, and the blush radiated from her face down her neck. She gingerly picked up the vibrator, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. “You want me to wear this out tonight when we go dancing?”

“Yeah.” He licked his lips, and his eyes had gone dark. “Babe. I know you like showing off. I know it makes you hot when people are watching you. I want to know if it makes you hot if I’m the only one who knows you’re wearing a vibrator.”

“Shit.” Her hand closed around the toy. “Won’t someone hear it?”

“Not at Heads or Tails. Not with the music that loud.”

Heads or Tails was always a popular salsa dancing club, their favorite place to get a little rowdy, two towns over from Mapleton and drawing a livelier crowd.

Just the idea of this was turning her on. “How do I wear it?” she asked.

“Take off your clothes.”

Abby undressed, heart beginning to race in her chest. She hadn’t been clubbing in years, and had never done anything like this before. When she was naked, Sam pushed her back on the bed, leaning over her to kiss her waiting mouth. God, he could kiss, his lips on hers making everything else fade away, up until his fingers brushed up through her folds and found her clit.

She jumped. The contact hit her like an electric shock, not altogether pleasant, just abrupt. Sam pulled back. “Seems like you should warm up a little bit, first, yeah?”

Before she could say yes, he crawled down her body and got between her legs. Oh, shit, she closed her eyes and bit her lip, bracing herself for that first touch, arousal ratcheting up from three to ten just at the light brush of air on her clit.

And he waited.

She opened her eyes, looking down her body. Sam was kneeling there, meeting her eyes, just waiting with a smile on his face. He waited until she looked at him and then licked her clit.

“Shit!” she cried out, and he laughed, the motion making his mouth vibrate her skin. Getting head from him was nearly too much, the kind of fierce overwhelming pleasure that consumed her. He only had to start licking her and she was already dripping wet, sensation running up through her body and radiating from her clit outward.

“There we go.” He sat back and dragged his fingers through her now-wet folds. “It’s important to warm up.”

“You asshole.” She threw a hand over her head. “Do we have to go dancing? Can’t we stay here?”

“We can, sure. Is that what you want?” He circled her clit with two slick fingers.

Fuck him for calling her bluff. She sighed. “No.”

“Good girl.”

The words made her blush again, that jerk, but she had to smile. Her smile faded with an intake of breath as a blunt pressure pushed against her pussy. The toy slid in place, half of the U penetrating her to push against her G-spot. The other part of the toy lined up between her folds, snug between her labia, the tip nestled firmly over her clitoris. Sam tapped it, and it settled perfectly against her. “There we go. You can sit up.”

Abby pushed up to her elbows, cautiously, then sat all the way up. The toy moved with her, a constant pressure but no stimulating vibration, not yet.

“Put on some very snug panties, I think.” He winked at her and watched as she carefully got up to do so.

She had just pulled on some lacy panties, slipping them all the way up over her hips, when the vibrator came to life against and inside her. She gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the gasp, and spun to see Sam. He had his phone out. Holy shit, he could control it with his phone.

“Looks like it works.” He dragged his fingers up the screen, and the vibration ratcheted up, pleasure coursing through her clit and all throughout her body like a sudden live wire. She gripped the bureau to steady herself.

“Holy fuck.” She released her grip as the vibration turned off.

“Seems perfect.” He smiled, devilish. “We should both get dressed.”

Heads or Tails was the kind of club that drew a fashionable crowd, and Abby settled on a blue dress with a lot of flow to it, the kind that would twirl along with her. Sam kept the toy off the entire time they were getting ready, but it still pressed against her, rubbing her clit each time she moved, reminding her it was there. When her hair and makeup was done, and they were both ready to leave, the vibrator came to life once more, low and quiet. She froze.

“I just want to make sure you can move all right while wearing it.” He smiled, innocent and sweet, like he wasn’t about to torment her in public with a secret sex toy. “After all, you shouldn’t get caught with it, right?”

“You know this is going to kill me.” She composed herself and dropped her head back. “But I’m going to hide it.”

“Good girl.”

She rounded on him. “You cannot keep saying that. It turns me on every time.”

Sam backed her up against the door, suddenly, firmly, pinning her against it with his body. Her pussy clenched in reflex, squeezing the part of the vibrator tucked inside her, and she gasped out loud. This moment, the toy, his smoldering expression, that tiny bit of fear she suddenly felt, all of it cranked her arousal up another five notches.

He read the expression on her face, that gasp, and smiled. “I like having you turned on.” Leaning closer, he kissed her again.

Fuck, they did not need to leave this house. They could stay right here, and Abby would melt into Sam and let him turn that vibrator all the way up and come and come and come. But no. He broke the kiss, pulled back, and squeezed her ass. “I think I should drive.”

He did eventually turn the toy off, hitting a button on his phone when they were stopped at a red light just outside of town, giving Abby a breather until they arrived at the club. Even in the depths of winter, in the late January darkness, Heads or Tails was pulsing with music and overflowing with people. Just walking through the front door took Abby back ten years in a heartbeat.

Sam slid an arm around her waist. “Memories, right?”

“So many.” She let him lead her up to the bar. “Drinks first?”

Sam ordered an Old Fashioned, because of course he did, and ordered a Bellini for her, knowing her penchant for peach and fizzy drinks. “You’re really fucking old, you know,” she shouted, loud enough to be heard over the music, pointing at his drink.

Sam smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You remember when you used to make me guess what drinks you wanted to order? And you always told me whatever I picked was exactly what you wanted.”

“And then you figured me out.” Abby started laughing, the memory coming back all at once. “So you started ordering really horrible shit, trying to get me to admit I was lying about it being exactly what I wanted.”

“And I’d drink it all for you.” He looked younger, happier, lighter than she’d seen him in months. How had she ever thought he’d been upset about this? This game was the most fun they’d had in a while.

She drank some more of her Bellini, the bubbles fizzing up into her nose, taking increasingly long swigs until she downed the entire drink and set her glass on the bar. “Come on and dance with me.” She grabbed his hand. He tossed back the rest of his drink and did.

Of course, as soon as she moved into his arms, the pulsing beat of the music flowing through them, he pushed a button on the phone in his pocket and the vibrator started. Not high, not all the way up, but stronger than it had been, strong enough to soften her knees and make her wobble against him. He caught her, holding her close, pulling her against him. “There we go. Dance with me, sweetheart.”

Each shift of her hips, each gyrating movement, pushed the vibrator further against her. It moved with her like it was attached, stimulating her mercilessly. Was this really happening? Was she really getting teased by Sam, in a public place, where bodies pressed in on all sides and nobody could tell what was happening? She couldn’t move away from the vibration because it was snug against her, as tightly as Sam was, the music pulsing and her clit throbbing beneath the vibrator that clicked her arousal higher and higher.

“Please,” she breathed, and he must be able to see the word on her lips even if he couldn’t hear her over this music. He reached into his pocket and…the vibrator went up higher.

Fuck. She gasped loud enough that he could probably hear her, probably multiple people could hear her. His expression was so pleased, so smug, so confident. Jesus, this side of him had been here all along, hiding beneath his calm exterior, and he was going to make her come in the middle of this dance floor.

She mutely blinked up at him, all her words gone. He was watching her, watching this happen, watching what her face looked like when the climax began to build in her body. Leaning down, he brushed his lips against her ear. “I want to watch you come like this.” He dipped her back and moved against her, encouraging the rocking of her hips, the desperate desire for more stimulation that might look to anyone else just like some particularly close dancing.

She could not hold out any longer. Her muscles tensed, and clinging to Sam’s shirt, she came with a single slow, shaky exhale. Her pussy spasmed intensely, clenching and clenching around this one small toy, clit twitching beneath the relentless vibration that would not let her down. Sam watched her with his lips parted and eyes half closed, so clearly turned on. His arousal was as hot as the situation. He definitely loved watching her. He loved watching this, watching her lose control, loved every moment of this display she was putting on only for him.

He dropped his hand into his pocket once more and the vibrator stopped, giving her sensitive nerves a rest, and she sagged against him, supported by his arm. “Let’s go sit,” he murmured, unnecessarily, because she was obviously going to need to sit down.

“Holy hell.” She sank down onto one of the couches in the corner, where people gathered to talk a little farther away from the dancing. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs, thrumming, slowly regulating along with her breathing. Sam sat close by her side, his arm over her shoulders.

“That was so sexy.” He kissed her, just like that, right in the middle of the club, open-mouthed and filthy hot. She may have just come, but she was in the mood to fuck him right here if it wouldn’t get them both arrested.

“I am a mess.” She giggled against his mouth, dizzy and light-headed. “I need some air. Or water.”

“You want to go outside?” He gestured to the door.

“Nah, but maybe get me some water?”

Sam went to do so, and Abby was left sitting on the couch, getting her bearings. She looked around the club. Back when they were younger, they’d meet friends here. It wouldn’t be unusual to see someone she recognized. She hadn’t wanted to look too closely before, what with the circumstances, but now she had recovered somewhat and was able to focus on something other than her clit.

Well, fuck.

Zachary Levine sat leaning on the bar, chatting in his amiable way with the very handsome bartender. She hadn’t seen him before, but she hadn’t been looking. Had he been there the whole time? The club was crowded, and they had been caught up in a sea of people. Now, she was a direct line of sight to him, this man she hadn’t seen since college and then, suddenly, saw twice in one month.

Sam was at that same bar, getting her water, and they didn’t seem to notice each other. There were a number of people between them, so that made sense; the whole club was busy on a Friday night. Sam got her glass of ice water and another drink for himself and sat down next to her on the couch, handing her glass over to her.

“Zach is at the bar.” She tried to sound normal, casual, like she was making an observation. “Zachary Levine. From the reunion.” She took a minute to sip some of her water. Her head didn’t feel clearer now; it felt foggy, like the presence of Zach had confused her all over again when she was just starting to clear up. What the hell?

Sam followed her gaze toward the bar. He tensed up. They’d watched Zach have sex with someone at the reunion. They’d laughed and joked and told old stories, and then Zach had gone onto the porch to fuck another woman and they’d watched and both gotten hot over it. Sam had said he was okay. He’d said it turned him on. That had started this whole “share a fantasy” thing they were doing, this game that was quickly becoming more consuming all the time. Maybe Sam had changed his mind. Maybe seeing Zach was bringing up some feelings in him.

“You should go visit with him.” Sam leaned back on the couch.

“What?” She looked from Sam to Zach and then back to Sam.

Sam licked his lips. “Dance with him.”

“I don’t…” She stopped. This was weird. “I don’t have feelings for Zach like that. I’m with you. I’m married to you.”

Sam turned a little pink. It was hard to tell, with the lights in the club changing, but he was definitely blushing. What the hell?

“I like to watch you flirt,” he admitted. “It’s hot. I want to see you flirt with Zach. If… I mean, if you’re comfortable with it.”

Fuck, she shouldn’t want that. She shouldn’t want to go over and flirt with Zach. She was a married woman. She was happy with Sam. Zach was all the things she’d left behind. This wasn’t just voyeurism, this was something more, something on the verge of indecency, and the desire ramping up in her body was dangerous.

At her silence, he continued. “You don’t have to, if it makes you uncomfortable. But if you’re just worried about me, I…” He trailed off, then closed his eyes, gathering his resolve before he opened them again. “It really turns me on. Watching you, watching you flirt with him, I…I want to see that.”

Sam had said some pretty filthy things in the midst of Kink Night last week, stuff about seeing another man fucking her. She’d chalked it up to dirty talk, but maybe there was some truth underneath it all. And if he wanted her to flirt with Zach? Fine, all right. Tonight was about his fantasies. She could do it. If he regretted it afterward, that was on him, not her.

Please don’t regret it afterward.

She’d had only one drink, and then a glass of water, so her legs were steady as she made her way across the dance floor to slide onto the barstool next to Zach.

Zach took a moment to place her, and then his whole face lit up. He was beautiful when he smiled, beautiful no matter what. The desire bubbling up inside her felt dangerous, like playing with fire, but if Sam wanted to see her indulge, she would indulge. “Abby!” He leaned in to give her a hug, a bit awkward across their barstools. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your husband?” He looked around, his brow furrowing.

“He’s over there on the couch.” She gestured over to Sam, who raised a hand in greeting, looking casual as can be. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Same. You know, I thought once I moved back, I might be running into people I knew, but this is a much more pleasant surprise than I expected.” Zach’s eyes sparkled.

“I didn’t know you knew how to salsa dance.”

“I learned in Florida.” Zach winked. “It’s a great place to pick people up.”

The song changed, a pulsing beat mimicking her heart rate. “Do you want to dance?” she asked.

Zach paused, then looked over at Sam, who was still watching them with a placid expression on his face. “Your husband is cool with that?”

Oh, to tell him the truth. “Of course,” she said, smiling. “You and I are old friends.”

“Well, then.” Zach slid off the stool and held out his hand. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

Apparently Zach was not worried about offending Sam. Now that he had her on the dance floor, he swept her up against him, holding her right against his warm body, and moved with her like they had been born to it. He was easy to follow, shifting with the beat, guiding her along. He’d be like this in bed. The thought slipped into her mind unbidden. People fucked the way they danced, and Zach danced with easy confidence and grace.

“You come here often?” he asked, and it was so much like a pickup line, she laughed.

“No, we haven’t been here in years. What about you?”

“First time back since I moved. Seems like it’s a night for coincidence.” He smiled at her, white teeth flashing in the light, and suddenly a jolt of vibration raced up through her clit and made her breath catch in her throat. Zach didn’t notice, spinning her around and pulling her back into his embrace. Abby caught Sam’s eye over on the couch, and he was smiling wickedly, his phone in his lap. Holy shit. He lifted his chin, a bit of challenge, and the vibration turned up a whole additional level.

Only with extreme concentration could she keep her wits about her. Pressed up against Zach like this, if he moved his knee between her legs, shifted minutely to dance more intimately with her, he would feel the vibration. She couldn’t let him know. She had to hide this spiraling pleasure, the buildup to climax that, if she was very careful to ignore, she could probably keep at bay.

“How come we never dated back in college, Abby?” Zach stepped back, giving a few respectful inches between them.

“We were never single at the same time?” Abby shifted her hips, rocking the vibrator against her while she kept time to the music. “Ahhh…um…and I didn’t know if you were into me.”

Zach laughed. “Come on. How could I not be? Look at you.” He backed up, holding her at arm’s length, eyeing her curves.

Abby blushed. But Sam had wanted her to flirt, and she wanted to flirt, so she spun around and looked at him over her shoulder. “How about this side?”

“Abby Wood If She Could.” He pulled her back against him, crossing her own arms over her belly with his grip on her wrists. Every line of him pressed against her own softness. “You’re teasing me something crazy.”

His lips were only a centimeter from her ear. If she leaned one way, he could bite her earlobe, tease that sensitive spot, kiss her all the way down her neck. Fuck, she wanted this, and she shouldn’t, shouldn’t want anything like this. But then, the vibrator turned up all the way, a sudden spike of can’t-escape pleasure racing up through her body. This was going to happen, with Zach’s body pressed right against her back, his arms wrapped around her, Sam watching from the couch, and she bit her lip for silence as this pleasure built.

And then…it stopped. She wobbled, short of an orgasm, the desperation so fresh in her skin it burned. Oh, God, what was she doing? Did she really want to come here, in Zach’s arms? She straightened, catching the rhythm of the dance again, regulating her breathing as her clit throbbed, unfulfilled.

“Easy there.” Zach placed a kiss on her cheek, right on her jawbone, and spun her around to face him. Her arousal was ebbing back to something normal, the simmering desire beneath her skin, and the vibrator lay silent between her legs. She caught her breath. Zach was looking at her like he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss the breath right out of her once again.

Fuck, this was already going too far. She forced a smile as the music changed. “Thanks for the dance. I’m gonna go check in with Sam.” She let go of his hands and wobbled on shaky legs over to the couch.

…

Sam could not wait to get his hands on Abby again. He’d known it would be hot to see her dance with someone else, just like it was hot imagining her with someone else in his fantasies. But he’d had the vibrator. He could tease her, and then do more than tease her. As he had watched, she’d pressed back against Zach, closed her eyes, her mouth falling open, and approached her orgasm…but he’d stopped her short. He could have taken her all the way. No one else would have been able to tell, but he didn’t want that, not exactly like this.

He wanted more.

She came over to him and sat beside him on the couch, and he kissed her hard. She tasted like alcohol and sin and everything he wanted to devour. She shivered in his arms, soft, pliant, receptive. She’d been brought near the edge, and arousal must be burning her veins. She wasn’t the only one: his cock was hard enough to burst the seams on his trousers. She brushed against him, her hand skimming up his thigh and then not so innocently touching his length, and he gasped against her mouth.

“You didn’t let me come,” she murmured.

“Did you want that?” he asked between kisses. “Want me to make you come in Zach’s arms? Have him hold you as you fell apart?”

Abby moaned. “It sounds filthy like that.”

“It is. It’s filthy. Filthy for you to come while another man holds you.” This was turning a corner in his mind, and he had to tell her what was really on his mind, had to confess this while he was still fuzzy from arousal and alcohol and the intoxicating taste of Abby. He broke the kiss and glanced at the bar, where Zach was now sitting on a barstool, watching him and Abby. What must be going through Zach’s mind right now? Did he know?

“I don’t want you to come while he’s dancing with you. I want you to come while he’s fucking you.”

Abby’s lips parted, her eyes going wide, then narrow, filled with lust. She licked her lips, pink tongue stroking over the sensitive petal-soft flesh, and oh, if only those lips were wrapped around his cock right now, or even better, wrapped around someone else’s cock while he watched. She locked eyes with him. “Say it again.”

The words spilled out, filthy and honest. “I want to watch you two together. I want to tell him how to fuck you and tell you how to please him. I want to see you come on his cock.” He’d never given voice to these thoughts before, just like he’d never thought about power exchange, but everything entwined in his brain to watching Abby coming helplessly apart in climax.

Abby glanced over at the bar, indecision on her face.

“Do you want to fuck him?” Sam asked. This couldn’t be a favor. This couldn’t be something she did just for him. “Don’t do this just to please me.”

Abby’s expression turned hesitant, then guilty. “I had a thing for him. Back in college. We never hooked up.” Abby bit her lip, but she wasn’t turned off by the idea; her flushed cheeks and rapid breathing told him all he needed to know. She wanted this, and maybe she didn’t want to want it, but the signs were all over her face.

“It’s okay,” he said, more quietly, and she could probably read his lips more than hear him.

Abby got to her feet, then paused once more, and Sam nodded at her. Then she went over to the bar, crossing the dance floor without another look to either side, and moved into Zach’s space, close enough to touch.

If only he could be a fly on the wall to hear what she said to him. But it wasn’t much, maybe just an invitation to talk, before she took him by the hand and led him over to the couch where Sam was sitting.

Zach sat down on Abby’s other side, a look of puzzled interest on his face, but not so much puzzlement as one might expect. Maybe he knew what was coming. Maybe he could read the signs.

Abby let go of his hand, put both hands on her thighs, and angled her body slightly toward Zach. He was a beautiful man, with his thick, curly hair and that tawny skin that was practically gold. Right now, his gaze flicked between Sam and Abby. Abby was the one who spoke. “Thanks for dancing with me earlier.”

Zach laughed, a surprised laugh, and stretched one arm along the back of the couch. Like Abby, he angled his body, those long legs close to brushing hers. “It was not a favor, I promise. I would dance with you anytime.” As if remembering Sam, he looked past Abby. “You’re a lucky man, with a beautiful woman like this.”

“Thanks.” Sam could be the one to broach this, but it felt weird, like he was brokering some sort of exchange, and then Abby spoke up.

“You were wondering why we never hooked up in college,” she said. “How we just kept missing each other. Ships in the night.” With one tentative hand, she reached out and rested her fingertips on Zach’s leg. All the air left the room, and Sam felt the touch on his own body, suddenly dizzy with the tension and unexpected intimacy. “What if we gave that another chance?”

Zach stilled. His gaze flickered from Abby to Sam, and back again. “I think you should be a little more specific.”

Abby didn’t look away. “Sam and I have been trying a few new things. And he”—she paused, taking a breath—“likes to watch.”

Zach relaxed, that same lazy smile crossing his face. “Interesting.” He turned his attention to Sam. “I can’t say I blame you. Abby is gorgeous.”

“I want to watch her with another man.” Sam said it again, confessing this into the anonymous darkness of this club, confessing to this person, confessing it to himself. “I want to watch her with you. I want to see you make her come apart.”

Zach stroked a thumb across his bottom lip, thinking, looking at them each in turn. “What about you, Abby?” His smile turned wicked, a lustful, playful smile. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Abby shuddered, all the way down her body, and turned aside with a blush and a laugh, pulling her hand back from his leg. “God, Zach, just blurting it out like that.”

“That wouldn’t have bothered you ten years ago,” Zach said. “Ten years ago, you’d have asked for what you want. So ask for what you want.”

She turned to face Zach, but one of her hands went to Sam’s knee, resting there, anchoring her to him even as she looked at the other man. “I want you to fuck me.”

Zach lifted his arm from the back of the couch and slid it gently into Abby’s red hair. Less than a foot from Sam’s face, his fingers carded through those locks, cupping the back of her head, holding her. Abby’s fingers dug into Sam’s thigh, her grip tightening. Zach leaned in and closed his mouth over hers.

Jesus Christ. The secondhand sensation resonated through Sam’s whole body like a caress, and Abby’s hand gripping his thigh echoed her gasp. Zach kissed her like he had all the time in the world, and here, only inches away, Sam watched him coax her mouth and slant her head to the side.

Then, slowly, he pulled away. His hand slipped from Abby’s hair, the tresses falling back where they were, and he licked his lips as if to savor her taste. He turned to Sam first, and asked once more. “You want to watch me fuck your wife?”

The words stuck in Sam’s throat, but from desire, not hesitation. “More than anything.”

“Abby.” Zach smiled at her, gently touching her cheek. “Do you want me?”

Abby exhaled. “Yes.”

Zach licked his lips once more, then nodded. “Where do you live?”