“Don’t normally come on a weekend.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve only ever come here after work,” she yelled over the pounding music, which was too loud for conversation even this early.
The place was actually filling up already, it didn’t have that empty atmosphere of a party yet to begin. The darkness obscured some of the place, but they could see down to the dance floor, and it had a fair number of people jostling for room.
“I think we timed it perfectly,” she said, or rather yelled, smiling away at the fact that the barman kept ogling her cleavage.
“We probably did,” Hugo clinked glasses with her, and sank a mouthful of fiery vodka.
For a moment or two, they drank, they looked in each other’s eyes, just smiling at each other, examining each other’s faces, assessing how this was really going for the other, without needing to speak. Conversation by body language. Her eyes seeking reassurance in his—you’re sure you want to do this? You’re really interested in this? You can say ‘no’ any time, you can stop me, you can come pull me back, we can get out of here at a moment’s notice.
His eyes attempting to calm her, to complement her and to show firmly how thrilled he was they were playing this game together. Without speaking the words, showing her that he trusted her, he loved her beyond anything, and knew that she loved him.
This was just a little fun, that was all. Treading near the edge of a cliff, but with no intention of tipping over.
Finally, she drained her drink, and gave a final nod. Okay.
She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, giving him a chestful of her strong fragrance—something sexy, feminine. Chanel, perhaps, though Hugo wasn’t savvy enough to tell. Then she left for the restroom, and with a fresh drink in his hand, Hugo found himself a small table by the overhang, from where he could stare down at the assembled ranks on the dance floor.
He was shaking a little by the time he saw her emerge, a solitary figure quickly absorbed by the throng.
It looked almost as though she’d pulled her dress down a little, if that was possible, until Hugo realized that from his vantage point up above, it probably just gave him a better view down her cleavage than at ground level. Still, she looked stunning, and as she began to move to the beat, she only looked more and more so, the motion enhancing the elegance and the femininity of her curves.
Hugo could see various male eyes checking her out, even from those already apparently with someone else. It made him tremble. Felt like he was monitoring a beautiful lamb while wolves paced in the shadows, waiting for their moment to pounce.
Madeleine glanced up at her husband, checking on him, though she didn’t want to react in a way that let anyone know he was there. Hugo returned a warm smile, showing her he could see her, he was ready for her to have a little fun.
A youngish guy, maybe even younger than the college students who lived across their street, was the first with the confidence to approach her. Blond, lean though without the athleticism of Connor—handsome enough to raise a broad smile on Madeleine’s pretty face.
His eyes were all over her as they danced, apart at first, the foot between them making it seem to Hugo that she was displaying herself to him, showing him what she had to offer. She cast a few glances up to where her husband was watching her, seeking that reassurance as the guy edged closer to her, until his hands were on her waist, and then she turned, to graze her behind against him.
Dancing in front of him, her back to him, she allowed his hands to run down her body, over those sumptuous curves, and Hugo felt a shiver course down his spine.
Jesus. This was so real. Actually seeing this guy with his hands all over her, even briefly over her breasts, though that made her turn and silently chide him.
What was he saying to her? Leaning in, murmuring into her ear, periodically making her smile or laugh or roll her eyes. Whatever his approach, by the end of the number Hugo suspected she was less than impressed with his chat-up lines. She dispatched him to the bar, perhaps to fetch them a drink, but by the time he’d returned, she was already dancing with someone else.
Three of them, all a few years younger, danced with her. As she did so, Hugo started noticing her focus shifting to another part of the club.
He craned his neck trying to locate where her glances were directed, and saw an older guy hovering by at the bar watching her, occasionally nodding or raising his glass at her, biding his time while she worked off her energy with these young suitors.
Hugo felt sparks of jealousy firing off inside him every time her eyes darted off to the side, to gauge the affect of her performance on this man, who had to be ten years older than her, dressing smart in a dark purple shirt of doubtless quality.
It seemed that her display was now for his eyes, not her husband’s. When she pushed out her chest, or wiggled her rear, she’d look over to this new man, offering him a coy but flirtatious smile at how she was performing with this young guy who had no hope of bagging her.
When it came time to send her young partner away, the music melted into a slower number, and Hugo watched the older man dropping his drink, sensing his moment.
He approached her with confidence, Madeleine seeming delighted that he saw her as worthy. Hugo felt a strange buzz underneath the quiver of fear and jealousy as he watched her place her hand on his lower back, and then she was pressing herself to him, accepting his hands on her body.
One track segued into another, and Hugo watched them writhe slowly together, knowing that this guy had to feel the heat from Madeleine’s body, the firm swell of her breasts against his chest. The lights seemed to dip down lower as the dance floor became fully packed, elevating the colored spots and lighting effects moving over the crowd, though making it a little harder for Hugo to observe from above.
By the third track of their dance, Hugo was down to glimpses of them each time a light flashed the right way. The man was pushed firmly against her by the crowd around them, as much as his desire for her, and Madeleine was nothing but enchanted by it.
God, it felt hard to breathe in there, too many people around him. Hugo focused on drawing in deep chestfuls of air, accented by hints of dry ice, sweat and cologne.
A flash of light, and there was a glimpse of him whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
Another flash of light, and there was Madeleine nodding, smiling, giggling, responding to him with those dangerously seductive eyes.
Another, and another, and each new flash of light brought a fresh gasp from Hugo, though his shock was balanced by the growing excitement that Madeleine was really turned on by this wicked dance.
Watching her, he felt so alive. Shaking with excitement and yet chilled by a real sense of vulnerability, a hint of doom keeping him seriously on edge as Madeleine moved with her partner, more at ease with him with every beat.
Another flash of light, and the older man was pressing his nose into Madeleine’s neck, inhaling her scent.
A heart-stopping moment of darkness, and then another flash, and Hugo felt a jolt of shock stab through his chest at the sight of the man kissing her neck gently, tilting his head to touch his lips just under her jaw. Madeleine looking a little surprised, but accepting it, slanting her head so that he might continue.
Jesus. Jesus. Jesus.
Hugo felt a little sick, and yet at the same time elated.
It was more than a little confusing. He was terrified, to the bones, and yet rippling with excitement, his manhood rock hard in his pants. She was so beautiful with her new dance partner, so pretty and elegant and graceful, a long burst of lilac light showing her moving with him, beaming up at him, adoring the attention.
Hugo was so in love with his wife, of course he was going to take pleasure in her having fun, truly enjoying herself, revealing that spark of sheer exhilaration from this unbelievable adventure.
Then, for the first time in an absolute age, he saw her looking up at him, her eyes searching out the crowd for her husband, finding it as difficult
to see him in the darkness as it was for him to see her. It warmed him by several degrees to see her looking for him, checking on him, acknowledging his part in this.
She looked a little frightened at not being able to see him, until a spot light sauntered along the balcony and there he was, in bright blazing stage light. Her smile on finally locating him very nearly outshone the that powerful spotlight.
Her beautiful eyes pierced his, interrogating him in a fraction of a second, determining how he was responding to her transgressions with an older gentleman.
Hugo offered her a broad smile, and she was laughing, ostensibly at something her dance partner had said, though in reality it was clearly in response to her devoted husband.
He was trembling as she was cast into darkness again, and then when a new flash arrived on her, and Hugo saw her in the man’s arms, kissing his mouth, pressing up against him as she sucked on his lip, it felt as though his heart had stopped.
God in Heaven.
*
Then the light was gone again, and Hugo had to consciously focus to prevent himself from hyperventilating.
His phone buzzed on his hip—a text message from Madeleine, he knew it before he’d even retrieved the little thing.
Her words were instantly comforting and reassuring.
> You want to meet outside? I don’t think I can take much more of this!
He sent a message back:
> Sure, it’s been pretty intense!
A flash of light, and she was looking up at him, smiling warmly, lovingly. A last message:
> Give me a few minutes, really need to pee.
Hugo nodded, and was up on his feet for a leisurely saunter out through the crowd of people now making the place a little over-full. He needed fresh air. He could wait for her outside well enough.
The line waiting to get in was now down the block—insane. You couldn’t get more people in that nightclub, it simply wasn’t feasible. Hugo felt a little old, coming out early. Back in Boston, before they’d been married, they would probably have been in a line like this, waiting to get into another nightclub having warmed up elsewhere, with the intention of going on until the small hours, maybe even dawn. Now, though, he felt relief to get out of there, to breathe the clear air outside, which might be just as full of toxins from the traffic streaming by, but at least was cooler.
The clocked ticked on, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. He was regretting leaving the club—what if something bad had happened? He couldn’t get back in now, and this wasn’t the kind of place to give him a stamp on the back of the hand for easy re-admittance.
He told himself she was simply waiting in a line for a restroom stall—no doubt the nightclub’s bathroom facilities were totally incapable for such a massive crowd. Yet his heart was racing, he felt that dark undercurrent of paranoia and jealousy clawing at the wonderment and excitement he’d been feeling at actually watching Madeleine stretch the limits of their relationship in the arms of another man.
What if he had misread her intentions in those text messages? What if she meant for him to meet her outside so she could ask his permission to go home with that other man? She hadn’t said anything about going home.
As the time ticked on, he started to imagine her remaining on the dance floor with that guy, knowing her husband had scampered off to wait for her outside. He had visions of the guy leading her away from the crowd, into some dark corridor, some shadowy corner where they could enjoy a little semi-privacy.
Pushing her down to retrieve his hard cock and wrap her lips around it.
Hugo was getting more and more certain she’d changed her mind, decided that if they were going to try this, they should jump straight off at the deep end.
Fourteen
Then, there she was. Grinning ear-to-ear as she laid eyes on her husband, a note of apology in her eyes for taking too long.
“The line in the restroom was insane,” she was already saying by the time she reached him, though he was in the process of flagging down a cab.
He laughed off her delay, though it had actually pained him. As a cab finally pulled in for them, Hugo was even a touch confused to find himself disappointed, that she had come out when she had, that she hadn’t actually decided to pursue her older dance partner further. They hadn’t talked about it, so it might well have made him feel a burst of insecurity, but it was hot to think of Madeleine unable to control her insatiable desire, that burning torch of sexuality within her.
“God that was amazing,” she breathed as they settled and the cab pulled away from the curb. “Do you hate me? I got a little carried away.”
“No, it was wonderful,” Hugo said, and she was snuggling up against him, kissing him as she had kissed that man on the dance floor—so passionate, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth so he could taste the alcohol on her breath.
She was really on fire.
As she assaulted his mouth, he couldn’t help slide his available hand over her thigh, brushing over the nylon and up to the lace band at the top, his fingers splaying out to sample that strange texture, and the transition to her bare skin at the top of her thighs.
The effect so erotic. Society in general had designated thigh-high stockings as sexy, and Hugo could do nothing but respond to these on Madeleine in that way.
In the back of that cab, she was sex personified.
“I can’t believe you did it,” Hugo said, pulling himself away from her briefly just so he could take a breath.
She smiled, that impish, girlish smile that always made him quite helpless. “I can’t believe you let me,” she said. “It seemed so wrong.”
“But you did enjoy it?” he asked.
She took hold of his hand, and forced it higher on her thigh, up under her dress, pressing his fingers to her soaking panties. Proof positive.
“It was electric,” she whispered in awe. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
Hugo grinned. “Not even when we were dating?”
She nodded, accepting that her statement hardly flattered their early days together. But she said: “This was different. Even when those dumb college guys were hitting on me, it wasn’t just about the fact they were hitting on me, or they wanted to sleep with me.”
“It wasn’t?”
“I don’t know…” he felt her hand encouraging his to keep its pressure on her pussy through those sopping wet panties.
God, he could smell her in the air now, over the pong of old leather and ancient cigarettes from the taxi interior, over the sweet scent of her perfume, that tickle of spice that denoted female arousal.
She was using his hand to masturbate, and he could feel the shape of her underlying pussy as well as the intense heat.
She said: “I guess after everything that’s happened recently, I was really getting off on you being there. Watching me. Seeing how bad I was being. From what I now know about you, I could tell how it was making you feel.”
“You could?”
“I think so. It was so hot to imagine how hard you must have been sitting up there.”
“Was he angry, that you just left him after that?” Hugo asked.
“He was pleading with me to stay,” she said, then looked at her husband with another apology in her eyes. “I guess part of me wanted to stay.”
Hugo nodded. “You could have,” he said, and he thought she had to have felt the tremble in his body. There was such a profound sense of danger in the air. Such a colossal pressure on him now, talking of giving up all control, respecting her independence in this monumentally important matter—her being with another man. “You know that? I would have been okay with it.”
Madeleine either sensed the slight quiver in him, or picked up the signs of fear in his eyes. She shook her head gently: “We’re not ready yet. Even this was a big step.”
He thought it ironic after such an elaborate Date Night set-up, but there was no doubt in his mind how sage her point of view was, even in the face of his apparent enthusiasm for thi
s strange concept of consensual infidelity.
“You’re right,” he said, stroking her thigh. “I can’t tell you how exciting it was to see you with him, or how I wanted you to blow my mind and do something—but if this happens too quickly, it could be too much.”
She kissed him, long and slow, and then they were pulling up outside their apartment.
When she was ready, she came out of the bathroom, leaving her dress behind. She looked incredible in her black lace and emerald silk underwear, slinking over to the bed before crawling onto the mattress.
Whether it was her outfit—the extravagant lace, the raunchy stockings and suspenders—or her recent brush with an older gentleman on the dance floor, not to mention a few younger yet inferior suitors, Madeleine seemed so confident, and so sexy with it.
Her expression of serious seduction soon broke into a broad grin, however, as she came to a halt on the bed, and paused on her hands and knees for her husband’s enjoyment.
“God, you look amazing, honey,” Hugo breathed.
“I was hoping you’d enjoy it,” she said, sitting up, running her hands all over her body as though selling it to him.
Hugo sat on the window seat, in front of the open blinds, wearing only a pair of black silk boxer shorts and a plain white t-shirt. He could appreciate the view that might be obtained from across the street, by anyone from dozens of windows in the next building.
He saw Madeleine’s eyes flicking occasionally to the windows as she slipped the straps of her bra down from her shoulder to her upper arm, revealing one breast and then the other to him, her nipples stiff in the air-conditioned air, though not from the temperature.
“Can you see anyone watching you?” he asked her.
She smiled, but shook her head. “I guess the college guys are out partying elsewhere tonight,” she said. “I don’t see anyone else over there.”
“I’ll bet there’s someone hiding in the dark,” Hugo said. “I would if I was over there.”
Fondling her beautiful breasts, she grinned, “But you’re here, so you get to see whatever you want.”
Madeleine Plays (A Wife-Watching Romance): Book Two of the Madeleine Trilogy Page 14
