by Raine Miller
Jillian took one look at the negligee and knew it was the one. “I’d love to try it on.”
A few minutes later she was in the dressing room, her heart rate speeding up in excitement as she stared at her reflection in the three way mirror. The long gown was made of cool black silk that draped seductively across her body and hinted at her curves. Thin straps gave way to a loose bodice that caressed her breasts, rather than molding to them. The right side had a thigh-high slit to show a flash of bare leg when she walked, or sat down, and where that ended ribbons laced up the rest of the negligee, adding a little temptation to the otherwise demure gown and giving the illusion that with one little tug of the bow it would all unravel and fall away.
When she walked out of the room, Raina was waiting nearby for her.
“Well?” her friend asked expectantly. “What did you think?”
“It’s perfect. I’ll take it.”
“And look what else I found.” Grinning, Raina held up a pair of men’s black silk pajama pants for Dean.
While Dean preferred wearing his old, worn cotton sweat pants around the house, Jillian loved the idea of them wearing a matching set for their anniversary and adding a little sensual luxury to the special night. “I’ll take those, too.” Jillian handed Raina the negligee and followed the other woman up to the front counter.
“So, do you have big plans for your milestone anniversary?” Raina asked as she clipped the tags from the gown and wrapped up Jillian’s purchases in pretty pink tissue paper.
“Just a nice, quiet, romantic dinner for two at home.” It’s what Jillian wanted, even though Dean had given her the choice to go out to a fancy restaurant. She had the entire meal planned and was looking forward to a more intimate setting with her husband, just the two of them.
“Sounds lovely.” Raina rang up the transaction and swiped Jillian’s credit card. “And I’m sure he’s going to love the gift you had done for him.”
“I think so, too. I can’t wait to give it to him.” Her gift wasn’t a traditional anniversary present, but there was no doubt in her mind that Dean was going to thoroughly enjoy the surprise — and she had Raina to thank for the fantastic idea. “Thanks again for the recommendation.”
“I’m happy to help,” Raina said, waving away her gratitude. “And it helps my friends, too. Kendall told me that the pictures turned out amazing.”
“Oh, they did,” Jillian assured her with a smile.
“Here you go.” Raina handed her a pink Sugar and Spice bag with her new lingerie and Dean’s silk pajama pants. “I hope you have a wonderful anniversary. Dean is one lucky man.”
Jillian truly believed that she was the fortune one, in so many ways. “Well, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s going to get lucky,” she said, and left the shop with Raina’s laughter trailing behind her.
CHAPTER 2
Dean walked into the house, his stomach growling hungrily as he was greeted by the delicious aroma of the pork roast Jillian had been slow-cooking all afternoon for their anniversary dinner. He’d spent the past three hours with his guys at a martial arts studio, running through training and conditioning exercises, which everyone was required to attend the first Saturday of the month. Dean’s muscles were sore, in a good way, and all that aggression had given him a nice adrenaline rush he was still feeling.
He found Jillian in the kitchen, wearing her red silk robe and her hair gathered and clipped atop her head as she reached for the good china plates in the cupboard. The short hem of her robe inched up as she stood on her tiptoes and stretched her arm toward the third shelf, giving him a glimpse of pretty white lace panties and the sweet curve of her ass.
She was so intent on her task that she hadn’t heard him walk in, and when he came up behind her and easily grabbed the plates for her, she gasped in startled surprise.
She spun around, her hand on her heart. “Dammit, Dean, you know I hate it when you sneak up on me!” she scolded.
He chuckled and braced his hands on either side of her on the counter. “I wasn’t trying to be quiet.”
“No, you just are,” she said, her lips pursed in exasperation. “Stealth mode is your normal method of operation.”
A trait ingrained from his SEAL days. “Maybe you ought to hang a bell around my neck so you can hear me coming.”
The corner of her mouth twitched with a smile. “Don’t tempt me.”
Seeing his favorite meal on the stovetop, he inhaled deeply and his stomach rumbled again. “Dinner smells amazing.”
Her gaze took in his disheveled hair, the stubble on his jaw, and his sweat stained muscle shirt he’d worn for his work-out. She wrinkled her nose at him. “Everything is just about ready. Go and take a shower, and I’ll leave you something to wear on the bed.”
“You mean we aren’t going to have a naked anniversary dinner?” He tugged on the sash around her waist, loosening the tie. “Could be fun.”
She rolled her eyes and lightly smacked his hand away. “If we were naked, we’d never get around to eating.”
“Oh, I certainly would,” he said, waggling his brows meaningfully.
The flare of heat in her eyes completely contradicted the stern look she managed to give him. “Go shower now, Dean, or you’re not eating at all.” She pointed toward the hallway.
“Spoil sport,” he teased, and dropped a quick kiss on her lips before heading toward their bedroom.
He peeled off his damp clothes and stepped beneath the hot shower spray. He soaped up, rinsed off, and took the time to give himself a close shave so he didn’t leave burn marks on Jillian’s soft skin. It was their anniversary, after all, and he decided that he’d give his wife a night of romance – hearts and flowers and all that shit that women liked every so often – instead of rough and wild sex.
Done showering, he dried off, then tucked the towel around his hips as he brushed his teeth and blow-dried his hair so that it wasn’t dripping wet. He rubbed her favorite after shave along his now smooth jaw, before tossing the towel into the hamper and strolling back into the bedroom bare-ass naked. Just as she promised, she’d laid out something for him to wear.
He frowned as he picked up the black silk lounging pants, which were so not his thing and a little too metro-sexual for his taste. But considering Jillian had bought them for him, he put them on and tightened the drawstring around his waist, unsure how he felt about the slip and slide texture of the material in masculine places.
Geez, the things he wouldn’t do for his wife, he thought with a shake of his head.
There was no shirt, so he assumed she wanted his chest bare, which was more than fine with him. Before heading back to Jillian, he stopped in his office and retrieved the white square envelope he’d hidden away in one of the desk drawers beneath some files. The word “welcome” was embossed in black on the front of the envelope, giving no real hint as to what was tucked inside.
As he headed back down the hallway, he realized that the lights in the kitchen were now off, and a soft glow of light from the formal dining area beckoned to him. He stepped into the room that they only used for holidays or special occasions, and was taken aback by the transformation that greeted him.
She’d taken a few dwarf trees and wrapped twinkling lights around them, giving the room an enchanting, fairy-tale like glow. Half a dozen candles flickered around the bouquet of twenty long-stemmed roses on the table he’d had delivered to her earlier in the day, and she’d already served up their dinner, using her best china, silver, and crystal.
He shifted his gaze to his wife, who was standing nearby. As corny as it even sounded to him, his heart skipped a beat at the realization that this sweet, beautiful woman was all his. In the twenty minutes that he’d been gone, she’d managed to transform herself into what he could only describe as a sensual, gorgeous goddess.
She’d taken the clip from atop her head, allowing all that soft, glorious hair to fall around her bare shoulders, her skin glowing from the warmth of the candlelight. The material of her b
lack silk negligee matched his pajama pants, and the cut of the gown hinted at her luscious curves, rather than boldly enhancing them. The thin fabric skimmed across her full breasts, highlighting the tight peak of her nipples. His gaze fell to the tempting slit exposing her right leg, all the way up to her hip, where silk laces criss-crossed and secured the side of the gown. Her bare skin showed through, making him well aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties beneath.
His dick appreciated that fact a whole lot. Desire licked through him, settling in his groin, and as much as he wanted to skip dinner and feast on Jillian instead, he reined in his randy body so he didn’t ruin whatever she had planned.
“Happy Anniversary, darling,” she said, strolling toward him, a sensual smile on her lips.
“Yes, very happy,” he agreed. He propped the envelope against the glass vase for her to open later, right next to a wrapped present with his name on it, then pulled her into his embrace and lowered his mouth to hers.
Their lips met, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept in and tangled with hers, slow and thorough, a seductive, delightful preview to how he intended to end this evening. Before lust could completely fog his brain, he eased back and glanced down into her upturned face. Her still parted lips were damp and puffy, and that unconditional, adoring look in her hazy eyes made him feel like the luckiest man alive.
“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” he said, releasing her.
“Good idea,” she said, amusement in her tone. “The sooner we finish dinner, the better.”
He couldn’t agree more, but knowing how much time and care she’d taken in making this anniversary meal special, he didn’t want to rush.
He sat at the head of the table like he always did, and she took the seat beside him. He reached for the bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice, released the cork, and poured them each a glass of the Cristal. They picked up their crystal flutes and toasted to the occasion.
“To the best twenty years of my life,” Jillian said, and took a drink of the sparkling wine. “We’ve come a long ways, wouldn’t you say?”
He set his glass back on the table and grinned wryly. “Yeah, we’ve made it twenty years longer than what your parents ever thought we’d last.”
She picked up her fork and knife and carved into the slice of pork roast on her plate. “When it came to you, I never put much stock in what my parents thought, or believed, or expected. I never, ever, doubted that you’d take care of me and our babies.”
And it had been that unwavering trust and faith in him that had turned Dean from a brash, reckless teenager who’d been heading down a path of personal destruction, and into a man determined to take care of the one thing that mattered to him in a world that had been so bleak and dark before she’d been assigned to tutor him in calculus his senior year in high school.
Those after school lessons had changed everything. He’d been angry and bitter, and hating the fact that one of the most popular and prettiest girls in school had to help him wrap his brain around derivatives and algebraic notations. Yet despite his surly attitude that first day, she’d been patient and kind and not at all intimidated by his bad boy reputation.
Meeting with her after school soon became the highlight of his day and gave him something to look forward to, even if he’d spent more time thinking about kissing her soft lips than mathematical equations. And it hadn’t taken long for him to realize that she kept looking at his mouth, too. After a few weeks of denying their strong attraction, he’d given into the urge to taste her lips, and thought he’d died and gone to heaven when she returned his kiss.
Jillian had been a good girl, a straight A student and the daughter of a prominent family who’d already funded the way for her to attend a private college, and who didn’t approve of a boy from the wrong side of town with no future goals in mind. Dean had known that he was all wrong for her, that he never should have touched her, but he’d been so drawn to her sweet innocence, her genuine smiles, her interest in him as a person, that he’d been unable to resist her.
She made him laugh when he’d forgotten how. She made him want when he’d stopped believing in anything good. She’d pulled him out of a grim existence and had given him something to hope for. She’d made him feel when he’d thought his father’s physical and verbal abuse had stripped him of the ability to care for anyone or anything.
Jillian getting pregnant had been completely unplanned, but it had been a gift in disguise that had transformed him from a boy with no direction, into a man committed to give her everything she needed and deserved. Going against her parent’s demands that they give the baby up for adoption, he’d instead married Jillian as soon as she turned eighteen, then joined the Navy for a steady paycheck that would support her and their baby, and eventually trained to join the Navy SEALs.
Every penny he’d earned was sent to Jillian, to pay the rent on their tiny studio apartment, and to take care of her and their sons, who’d been born less than fifteen months apart. Those first few years being separated had been extremely hard and difficult, but he’d been determined that she’d never have to work, a decision that tied directly to his own mother, who’d worked two jobs to support the family because his father was a drunk who couldn’t hold down any job for any length of time.
The horrible memories of his tired, exhausted mother getting home late at night, only to be greeted by a beating because she couldn’t make dinner fast enough for Dean’s father, was something he’d never be able to forget. The terrible cycle repeated itself daily, until his mother just gave up and overdosed on sleeping pills to escape the physical and emotional pain, leaving Dean with a wealth of guilt for not being able to save her from such a cruel and dreadful life.
“Hey, where did you go?” Jillian asked softly, pulling him back to the present. “And what are you frowning about?”
He shrugged, pushed those unpleasant thoughts from his mind, and smiled at her as he swallowed a bite of his buttered green beans. “I was just thinking about all those lean years we had in the beginning of our marriage.” And not once had she complained, or left him for someone better as he always feared she would. She’d always supported him and his goals, no matter that it meant months of separation while he worked his way up the military ladder, so to speak.
“It was definitely a tough time,” she agreed, cutting into an herbed potato. “But look at you now. You’re a successful businessman, making more money than my father does,” she said, and laughed.
“Look at us now,” he clarified, knowing she was the reason for everything he had. Jillian’s faith in him slayed him. She was his salvation, his reason for turning his life around when he’d been so close to not giving a shit about anything and probably would have turned out just like his old man if it hadn’t been for her giving him something to truly live for.
“I like where we are,” she said happily, unaware of his darker thoughts as she sipped the last bit of her champagne. “And I really like where we’re heading. You’ve spent so many years working hard and making sacrifices so you could give me all this–” she waved a hand to indicate the custom built home, the furnishings, the comfortable life she lived, “–and now it’s your turn to enjoy it, too.”
“You deserve all this, and more,” he said, meaning it.
“I have everything I want right here with you. All this other stuff is just a nice extra bonus.”
They were both finished with their dinner, and he pushed his plate aside then scooted out his chair. “Come here,” he said, wanting her close. “I want to give you your anniversary gift.”
She stood up then settled herself on his lap, fitting so perfectly against him. Resting one hand around her waist, he reached for the envelope he’d left on the table and handed it to her.
She took it from him and ran her fingers over the one word printed on the front of the heavy linen envelope. “Welcome?” she asked curiously as she met his gaze. “It lo
oks like an invitation of some sort.”
He shrugged off the sudden jolt of nervousness spreading through him. “Open it and you’ll see.”
She slid her finger beneath the flap and pulled out the card tucked inside. “You are cordially invited to The Players Club,” she said, her voice trailing off as she silently read the rest of the invitation. When she was done, she lifted her wide-eyed gaze to his. “The Players Club?” she asked, her tone hesitant.
That uncertainty swirling in his gut escalated a notch. “Yes,” he said calmly, worried that he was pushing her way outside of her comfort zone. “Do you know what that is?”
A slight frown marred her expression, giving him no real clue as to what she was truly thinking. “Yes, I’ve heard of it before. It’s a sex club, right?”
He nodded and stroked a hand along her back in a gentle caress. “A very exclusive, private, members-only club. I just thought we might enjoy trying something new and different.”
She glanced down at the card in her hand again, studying it for a moment before meeting his gaze. “If it’s so private, how did you get this invitation?”
“Mac.” He grinned.
She raised an incredulous brow. “He’s a member?”
“A lot of the guys that work for me are,” he told her, wanting to make sure she realized that fact ahead of time. “In order to get an invitation into The Players Club, you need a referral from a long-term member in good standing. The club also requires every person to pass a confidential background check and health screening before their first visit, which we’ll have done if you agree you’d like to do this.” As a security specialist, Dean liked the fact that every individual had to pass a thorough application process and that there were discreet guidelines to follow. The exorbitant membership fee also helped to ensure exclusivity.
“Do you want this?” she asked.
“Yes, but what I want doesn’t matter. It’s your choice, not mine.” It was important to him that she desired the same thing, and wasn’t agreeing just to please him. They’d come a long ways since that day she’d seduced him in his office, but the possibility did exist that she wasn’t ready to take such a huge leap to a sex club. “I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way if you’re not okay with any of this.”
