by Roni Loren
After sifting through cabinets of paint and fabric samples, he finally found what he was looking for in a stack of boxes in the corner of her office closet. He opened the lids of a few, checking the contents, then hauled out the one filled with the raciest covers. He set the box down next to Leila’s chair, clicked on the reading lamp, and settled in for a bit of research.
If he wasn’t exciting his wife anymore, then he needed to know what was.
* * *
Leila’s hands were sticky against the cool leather of the limousine’s seat. Seth had woken her up this morning, instructed her to pack a bag, and then had headed out to bring the kids to stay with her family for the weekend. All without saying more than a handful of sentences to her.
When he’d returned, there had been a limo waiting outside for the two of them. A limo. Like they could afford to waste money on something like that. She sagged against the seat, feeling the burden of Seth’s hopes on her shoulders. “So are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Seth, who’d been starting out the window with an unreadable expression on his face, turned to face her. “You remember that time we snuck over to that little lake off campus and got caught in a hail storm?”
She blinked, caught off guard by the question for a second, then smiled when the old memory sprung forth. “Of course.”
It had been before she’d gotten pregnant. They’d traipsed out there for a late-afternoon study session and had gotten stranded when a sudden spring storm had unleashed its wrath upon them. Their clothes had gotten soaked, and they’d ended up cowering under a picnic shelter, listening to the pinging of the hail on the metal roof. She’d been slightly terrified that a tornado was on its way, but then Seth had taken one look at her drenched state and had kissed her. Hard. Making her forget about anything besides him and the way he felt against her.
Before she’d realized what was happening, they’d been pulling at each other’s clothes, dropping the sopping garments onto the grass below and kissing every bared spot of skin. Anyone could’ve walked up on them. But that had only made it more exciting. Within minutes, Seth had gotten her naked and spread across the top of the picnic table.
He’d had a hunger in his eyes that had made her feel like a goddess, like he’d never looked at another woman quite that way before. And he’d taken her fiercely. None of the gentle stuff they’d been doing up until that point. For the first time, she’d seen the side of him that she’d heard about. That bad boy guitarist who played in a garage band on the weekends.
She’d ended up with splinters in her ass, but the best orgasm of her young life.
Leila adjusted in the limo seat, the memory alone inciting a surprising heat curling at the base of her spine. “How could I forget that day?”
Seth’s smile was wistful. “I felt like shit that night after I went back to my dorm.”
Her brow wrinkled. “How come?”
“Because I’d let you see that guy I didn’t want to be anymore. I’d treated Leila Jane Austin of the Austin family like she was some girl I’d met after a show.” He shook his head. “You deserved better than that.”
She frowned. “It’s not like I told you no or didn’t enjoy myself.”
“I know. I just wanted to be better than that for you. A gentleman.” He sighed. “But now . . .”
“Now, what?”
He leaned over to the backpack he’d set on the floor and pulled something out. When he straightened again, he handed her a book—one of her romance novels. One of her favorites, actually. What in the hell was he doing with this thing?
“Now I realize being that kind of guy to you may have been a mistake. Maybe I haven’t given you enough all these years. Maybe you needed to experience more.”
“Come on, don’t do that. The ‘what-if’ game won’t do either of us any good.” The words came out tired, flat.
“This isn’t a game, Lei.”
She glanced down at the book, rubbing a thumb over the cover, and then looked back at him. “I don’t understand.”
He laid a hand over hers. “This weekend we’re going to leave everything at the door. Work. Kids. Stress. We don’t even know each other anymore because we’re drowning in everything else. So I’m taking everything out of play for the next few days, and we’re going to start over. I want us to see if we can find the fire we had that day by the lake.” He slipped her wedding ring off, the sunlight glinting off the small diamond.
She watched in confusion. “What are you doing?”
He held the ring for a moment in his palm, staring at it, then curled his fingers around it and pocketed it. “I’m giving you the gift of freedom and your fantasies.”
She lurched back against the seat, unsure whether it was the limo driver or Seth’s words causing this reaction. “You’re what?”
He slipped off his own ring and tucked it in his other pocket, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of them together. “You’re relieved of wedding vows for the weekend. These next few days are about having the freedom to explore. You can decide on Sunday if you want to put yours back on.”
Explore? She gripped the book harder, knowing what lay beneath the covers, knowing what fantasies were played out. “Seth.”
He touched a finger to her lips, a trace of sadness in his eyes. “Shh. Remember, you agreed to give me the control. This part is not up for discussion.”
Her husband had lost his mind. He wanted to pretend they weren’t married? And what did taking a break from marriage have to do with an hour-long trip outside of the city? Her stomach knotted. “I don’t get it. Where are you taking me?”
“A place where I’m going to make sure you get whatever you want without consequence.”
She closed her eyes. Oh, fucking hell. All of a sudden, she knew without a doubt where they were headed. She’d never heard the name spoken, but she’d heard her brother and his friends murmur about it from time to time. A place where any fantasy could be had. A place where she could get exactly what was described in the book she had on her lap. “We can’t do this.”
The car rolled to a stop, and Seth squared his shoulders. “Yes, we can. And unless I hear Austin, we will. Now get out of the car.”
Chapter Six
Seth sat in the back corner of The Ranch’s dance club, sipping on a Coke. At quick glance, the club could pass for any swanky nightspot they had in Dallas. But once Seth’s eyes had adjusted to the dim atmosphere and blinking lights, a harder look had offered a much different picture.
People were dressed in everything from jeans to full-scale leather to hardly anything at all. The dance floor was busy both with dancing and what Seth would’ve called advanced third base in high school—couples in various states of undress openly caressing every inch of their partners’ bodies. Those who weren’t dancing were lounging around the various corners of the room, either watching the antics or participating in their own. The scent of arousal permeated the air, mixing with the soft vanilla scent of the candles burning in the center of the tables and setting all of Seth’s systems on full sensual alert.
He shifted in his chair, his eyes landing on a woman sitting at a nearby table. She snapped her fingers in front of the face of the half-naked guy kneeling at her feet. The man bowed down and kissed the tips of each of her boots. When the guy came back into a kneel, she smiled at him and spread her knees a bit. Seth couldn’t see what was beneath, but based on the man’s rapt expression, Seth had a feeling she wasn’t wearing anything underneath that skirt.
Movement near the main door yanked Seth’s attention away and had his breath stalling in his lungs. He’d left Leila with specific instructions and had only half-believed she’d follow them. But as the first long length of leg stepped through the doorway, Seth nearly leapt out of his chair with relief. She had listened. She was willing to give this a try. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or terrified. He suspected he was equal parts both.
Leila walked into the club with her chin ticked up, but her
expression belied her trepidation. Seth’s gaze traveled down the length of her. He’d asked Grant, the owner of The Ranch, to set her up with a wardrobe for the weekend, and the man hadn’t let Seth down. The short burgundy number looked to be made for Leila’s curves and never-ending legs—classy but so fucking hot Seth could feel his mouth water.
Damn. He’d forgotten how good his wife could look when she didn’t wear things that covered all the good stuff.
As instructed, she didn’t look for him. He’d told her that he’d be doing his own thing tonight, enjoying his freedom as well. But he’d only said that to help her with any guilt. He had no intention of finding some other woman while he was here. His sights were only on one.
Leila headed for one of the stools at the bar, though calling it a bar was a stretch since the place didn’t serve alcohol. Heads turned as Leila made her way through the crowd—other men, and a few women, looking at his wife with unrepentant interest in their eyes.
Seth would’ve expected the sight to turn on his jealous instincts, but instead he felt his cock flex against his zipper as his blood rushed south. Seeing Leila’s effect on others turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain. He took a long sip of his drink, steeling himself against the urge to get up and go to her. He needed to be patient. He’d signed up for this adventure. Now he had to follow through.
Leila ordered a drink and turned her stool so she could face the dance floor, her eyes slowly scanning the crowd. Her gaze eventually came Seth’s way, but he was off in a dark corner, blocked by a number of other tables, and her attention traveled past him. She seemed to be unsure of what to do next. She stared for a moment into her drink as if lost in thought, but then a man stepped up beside her and touched her shoulder, dragging her attention upward.
Seth’s muscles coiled as the man threw Leila a smile and leaned against the bar, his body within inches of her. Leila eyes widened a bit, apparently surprised by whatever the man had said, but then she nodded and smiled back, offering him her hand.
Seth took a shaky breath as the man led Lei out onto the dance floor. Seth had instructed his wife to accept any offers to dance as long as she felt comfortable with the person who was asking. And he’d told her what safety precautions to follow when she found the man to fulfill this particular fantasy.
Leila stopped at a clear spot on the dance floor, and the guy pulled her close to him. Her teeth gnawed at her lip, but she wound her arms around him and let him take the lead.
Seth forced his fists to unfurl under the table. He had to figure out how to turn off his caveman instincts this weekend. He didn’t want to lose his wife. But he also didn’t want her to stay with him out of guilt or obligation. He needed to see if given other options, what she would do.
Leila finished the dance with douche bag number one and went on to dance with a number of others who made offers. Guy after guy put their hands on her hips, grinding against her, whispering things in her ears—things that made her blush. But Leila didn’t let any of them take it further than that. An errant touch, a lean in for a kiss—all were gently thwarted and redirected.
Seth couldn’t tell if that was because she was still nervous about this whole thing or if she really wasn’t interested. He’d told her she had freedom to do whatever she wanted in the club tonight. The story in her book was about a woman who had a fantasy about a stranger picking her up in a bar and then screwing outside in the parking lot—no last names exchanged. But apparently no stranger here had appealed to Leila yet.
Maybe it was time to change that.
* * *
Leila made her way back to the bar and ordered another cranberry juice. She hadn’t danced this hard in . . . hell, she couldn’t even remember when. But it felt good to have her heart pumping and a sheen of sweat on her skin.
When she’d read Seth’s instructions, she’d been downright paranoid that she’d walk in here tonight and not have a single person ask her to dance. It’s not like a thirty-something mom of two could compete with the gym bunnies who hung around dance clubs. But to her surprise, there were people of every shape and age here, and no one seemed to be lonely. She hadn’t sat down for longer than thirty seconds between songs. And she’d gotten more than one offer that could’ve fulfilled the fantasy Seth had set up for her tonight.
She had to admit the invitations had sent a little thrilling tingle through her. Men here didn’t bother with the games that people played in the dating scene. They just leaned over and told her what they wanted. To have her. To tie her up. To share her with a friend. The offers had been different from each guy and had sent fantasy scenes reeling through her head, but she hadn’t felt the urge to say yes to any of them yet.
When she’d found out Seth was going to do his own thing tonight, her belly had gone inside out. Not only because of the fact that he was willingly giving her the opportunity to cheat, but that he might do the same. Maybe he’d set up this whole thing to satisfy his own eight-year itch.
After that revelation, she’d vowed to jump into this whole thing with both feet. If her husband could so easily turn his vows off and not care if some other guy touched his wife, then he’d earned the consequence. Apparently, she wasn’t even worth jealousy anymore.
But so far she hadn’t been inspired to use that get-out-of-jail-free card. All of the men she’d danced with had been handsome enough, but none had sparked that thing inside her that would push her to take the leap. She’d turned the offers down, and each of the men had handled it without protest or malice, which was another beautiful thing about this place—consent was like religion.
Grant, who was the owner and a friend of her brother Jace’s, had explained to her that anything she saw here, no matter how brutal, was all being done because that person had consented to it and wanted it. That anything would be stopped immediately if someone used their safe word. And by seeing all of that in practice, Leila was developing a new respect and understanding for the lifestyle her brother had chosen.
She took the last gulp of her drink and set it down on the bar.
“Still have one dance left in you?” a voice said, low and heavy against her ear.
Leila startled, nearly knocking over her glass. She whirled around to find a familiar face with an unfamiliar smirk staring down at her. “What?”
Seth planted a hand on the bar, half-caging her on her stool with his arm. Her gaze traced down him as she inhaled the scent of a cologne she’d never smelled on him before—a darker, more earthy scent than his usual. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a snug gray T-shirt that molded over his hard, lean chest. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
She blinked, confused for a moment, then realized what he was doing. Oh. Her pulse ticked up a notch. “I’m Leila.”
His smile was downright wicked. Who the hell was this person? “Well, Leila, I’m Seth and I think you should dance with me.”
“Oh, and why is that?” she asked, leaning back against the bar and sending him a challenging look.
His other hand landed on the bar, officially trapping her in the scant space between his arms. He bent his head close to her ear. “Because there are at least three dudes in this place who are hoping you’ll go back to their room with them, and I want to show everyone who’s really going to be shoving that dress up your thighs tonight.”
A soft gasp passed her lips, the dirty talk a vast—but effective—departure from the Seth she was used to. She met his eyes and saw the promise backing up his words. A subtle warmth crept over her skin. “My, my, aren’t you confident.”
He took her hand, easing her off the seat, and pulled her against him. The bulge of his cock pressed against her lower belly, causing heat to gather between her thighs. He was already hard for her even though he’d no doubt seen her dancing with other men all night. He could fake a role, but he couldn’t fake being turned on. “Dance with me.”
She pressed her forehead into his shoulder, welcoming the feeling of her body awakening to him. Something she had
n’t felt in a long time. “Okay.”
Seth led her out to the dance floor and swiftly guided her into the fast beat of the rock song. He’d always been a good dancer, the musician in him picking up the nuances of a song with ease, but she had never been quite so gifted at it. She tried unsuccessfully to match his movements, but Seth smiled and gripped her hips, molding her to him and bringing her along for the ride.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him take over. The dance floor was crowded and bodies brushed against her from all sides, alighting her senses. Seth’s scent mingled with the primal essence of sweat and sex. She nuzzled against his damp neck. “You smell good.”
His hands slid down her hips to cup her ass and notch her against him. “And you feel good, baby. I’ve been watching you all night just imagining how sweet it would be to be inside you.”
She shuddered against him, her insides clenching longingly at the suggestion. “Seth.”
His palms moved down, his fingertips teasing at the hem of her dress. “The guy you danced with last is watching us.”
She tensed a bit, wondering what Seth was thinking. Had he been angry seeing her dance with the other guys?
“What did he say when he was whispering in your ear?” Seth asked, his words low and coaxing.
She shook her head, not wanting to ruin this moment with jealousy or a fight. “Don’t.”
Seth’s fingertip ventured under the hem of her skirt, tracing the bottom curve of her ass. “No, it’s okay. I want to know.”
She took a deep breath, and Seth slowed their movements as one song ended and another began—this one with a more languid, sensual beat. She closed her eyes and swayed against him, gathering the courage to be open with him. “He wanted to share me with his friend, for me to give them both all the control.”
Seth stepped off the beat for a second, but quickly recovered. “Did that offer appeal to you?”
