Some of the best orgasms he ever gave her were accompanied by this fantasy.
“We never have to see her again,” she went on in that low seductive voice, stroking him gently. “When we fantasize about it later, we’ll be remembering the real thing.”
“You’ll eventually hold this against me.”
“Never. I’ll always admit I asked for it.” She cupped his balls, squeezed. Like every other man right on down the line from Adam, he started thinking with his dick. “If you’re sure this is what you really want.”
“Oh I’m sure.”
“Then we’ll do it.” He pulled her up out of the water. “Now lean on the side of the tub and put your pretty little ass in the air because I’m going to fuck you doggy style right now.”
“Ooh.”
He loved the sounds she made. He loved the clench of her pussy as he drove inside her.
And he prayed he hadn’t agreed to the worst mistake of his life. 32
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Therefore, the next morning, as soon as he arrived at work, Seth shut himself in his office and picked up the phone. Dialing, he waited through three rings before she answered. “Devon. We need to fucking talk.”
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5
OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE?
Waiting at the roadside café off Highway 101 where Robyn was supposed to meet them, Courtney suddenly got that you-are-insane-and-should-beimmediately-institutionalized sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Robyn. She was their courtesan. Two weeks ago, right after Seth gave her the green light, she’d met with Isabel, described what they were looking for, specifically what Courtney was looking for. Isabel had offered up Robyn, a beautiful ebony-skinned woman a couple of years older than Courtney. She could have been an African princess in a former life; her features were flawless. She was by no means thin, with full breasts and curves, but her smile in the photo was what sold Courtney. A real smile, not some sultry, seductive woman-on-theprowl smile. When Isabel asked if she’d like a face-to-face meet, Courtney declined. She wanted to be on the same footing as Seth, with no personal contact. The last stipulation she made was that if he changed his mind—or if Courtney herself did for that matter—they could call a halt at any time during the weekend.
Courtney had planned everything, the hotel they’d stay at out in Cambria, the wineries they’d visit, and one very special surprise that she’d spent hours and hours scouring the Internet to find. She hadn’t told Seth what it was, though she did tell him she was dipping into the Italy fund to do it. He’d simply shaken his head with a tell-me-again-why-I-married-her look on his face. So, the middle of August arrived, and the Saturday came with it. What she hadn’t planned on was how nervous she’d be meeting the woman who would . .
. fuck her husband.
She’d even obsessed about her clothing. For today she’d chosen a strapless sundress and sandals. After changing her mind umpteen million times until Seth had told her they were going to be late.
“Don’t worry,” Seth said, “she’s going to show.”
That’s what worried her! Seated in a booth by the café’s window, she added more creamer to her already overly creamy coffee. “I’m nervous meeting someone new.”
“Since when did meeting new people make you nervous?”
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Courtney rolled her eyes dramatically. “She isn’t just any old new person.”
The waitress walked by, slipping the tab for their coffees on the table, a subtle reminder that there were people in line for their booth. Seth rolled his hip and fished his wallet from his shorts. “We can call it off.”
“No,” she said, though he probably wouldn’t mind if she said yes. Somehow, she’d thought things would change over the last two weeks. That they’d have all sorts of sexy banter about the upcoming event, he’d rush her into bed the moment he got home from work every night or at least want to fantasize. Except for the night she’d told him her plans and he’d agreed, he hadn’t touched her beyond the perfunctory kisses before he left for work, when he got home, and as they lay down to sleep.
In fact, she’d barely seen him. He said he was working hard so he wouldn’t have to go into the office on their weekend. She’d wondered if Amanda was staying late, too. Ooh, bad thought. It wasn’t true. That was her disappointment and nerves whispering negative thoughts in her ear.
“Come on, let’s wait outside.” Seth took the bill to the front register as Courtney pushed through the small crowd queuing by the entrance.
“Oh wow, do you see that?” A pregnant young woman pointed through the glass front door as a black limousine pulled into the gravel lot. Courtney stepped out into the morning sun. It was only nine, but she had to shade her eyes with her hand.
The driver rounded the back of the limo, opened the passenger door, holding his hand out for the lady. With a regal bearing, she was taller than Courtney had imagined. Wearing a flowing burnt orange pantsuit, she put on a pair of sunglasses beneath the brim of her elegant hat. The end of the scarf she’d tied around it blew in the breeze, a trail of fall colors: orange, gold, brown, and dark green.
“Well, that’s certainly an entrance,” Seth muttered. She smelled him beside her, a combination of her citrus soap and shampoo. He used whatever she had in the shower, and she loved rubbing her nose over his chest hair drenched in her own scents.
The driver pulled a small overnight bag from the trunk. The woman exchanged words with him, smiled, then palmed his hand a moment. Not a shake, probably a tip.
“She’s beautiful,” Courtney murmured. More so in person than in the picture. 35
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African princess height—a good three inches over Courtney’s five foot five—and voluptuous curves.
“You’re prettier.” Seth slipped his hand through hers, lacing fingers. “We should introduce ourselves.”
She glanced down at their clasped hands, touched by his sentiment, then let him pull her across the parking lot. “How do you know that’s her?”
Seth leveled his hazel eyes on hers in a nonverbal “duh.” What other woman would arrive in a limousine dressed like that? The tableau didn’t scream courtesan; it purred high-class. Courtney felt too casual in her sundress. By the side of the limousine, Seth stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Seth. This is my wife, Courtney.”
Robyn shook firmly, as if they were meeting for . . . some business function.
“So nice to meet you both. I’m Robyn.”
Her hand was smooth and cool as she pressed her palm to Courtney’s. Removing her sunglasses, she smiled. That ordinary-person smile Courtney had liked. “Perhaps we could have my driver put my bag in your car.”
“Certainly.” Seth pointed out their silver SUV and pulled his keys from his pocket. The driver trailed him.
“I’m so looking forward to our weekend.” Robyn spoke in cultured tones, not British, but not an American twang, either. More like the educated, aristocratic lilt of Grace Kelly.
“So am I.” Courtney had no clue what else to say, but she liked that Robyn didn’t check out Seth’s butt in his shorts or go all gooey-eyed over his physique. Robyn leaned in. “I have some very nice surprises for you in my bag.”
“Oh.” Courtney suddenly felt tongue-tied as they slowly followed the men to the car.
“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” Robyn tucked her arm through Courtney’s and laughed as if they were old friends. “Everyone is. Simply remember we’re going to have fun, no pressure. Whatever happens”—she shrugged—“happens.” She punctuated it with a smile to put Courtney at ease. Courtney chided herself. She was forty-five years old, a mother of two, married for more than twenty years, college-educated with a degree in teaching, subbing for several years when they needed the money. She wasn’t a brainless twit, and she had more self-confidence than this. “I love your outfit. I would never have the flair to wear something like that.”
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“You look lovely in that little dress.” Robyn lowered her voice. “My outfit merely hides all those imperfections I see when I look in the mirror.”
“I don’t see any imperfections.” Courtney meant it with all sincerity and a smidge of apprehension.
“See! The outfit works.” Robyn laughed again. The driver turned to look as he settled her bag in the SUV next to the one Courtney had packed for herself and Seth. Seth glanced at Courtney.
“We’re going to get along fine.” Robyn squeezed her arm. “Tell me the fun things you’ve planned for us.”
The sex things? Courtney decided to avoid the issue for now. This was a date. You didn’t talk about sex right out of the gate. You talked about . .
.everything else. “I’ve got a list of wineries. We can’t get to them all, but I especially wanted to visit the one where they make Wild Horse Chardonnay. I love that stuff.”
“Sounds marvelous.”
Courtney once again found her excitement in the outing and enthused about her plans. “For lunch, there’s a darling mom-and-pop café outside of Paso Robles, before you get out on the highway to Cambria.” Cambria was on the coast right outside the famous castle built in the thirties.
“Everything sounds wonderful. You’re very organized.”
Seth hung back by the passenger’s side, letting the women do the talking. Behind them, the limousine pulled out of the parking lot, and Courtney realized it was time to get this show on the road. So to speak.
“Take the front seat,” Robyn said, her eyes a mesmerizing dark chocolate,
“and I’ll sit behind Seth so you and I can talk more easily.”
“That sounds fine.” She’d had visions of sitting in the back so Seth and Robyn could get to know each other, but this way, she’d get to see Seth’s reactions to everything that was said. He’d also be able to see Robyn in the rearview mirror. Seth chivalrously handled all the doors, and Courtney turned in her seat as he pulled onto the road and headed for the freeway. The trip down to Paso Robles would take about two hours. They’d be there by eleven, time enough to hit a couple of wineries before lunch.
Once up to speed, Seth adjusted the mirror, his gaze on it longer than necessary, up, down, from Robyn’s face to breasts to legs. He glanced at Courtney. It was one of those wordless exchanges between married people. Her 37
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heart started to beat faster. He found Robyn attractive. When he saw a woman on the street, it never bothered her that Seth looked. In fact, he’d started looking only after she’d begun pointing out attractive ladies. It was a game they played. Alternately, he made sure she didn’t miss a hot guy. Of course, she’d had to train him on what she liked. Making love, he’d honed in how she’d gotten wet fantasizing about this one or that one. She’d do the same to him.
This was different. Up close and personal. Real versus fantasy. Thrilling yet terrifying.
Courtney hooked one leg beneath her, turning in her seat. “So tell me how you started doing this.”
Seth snorted softly. Nothing like taking the bull by the horns.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” she added.
“Of course not.” Robyn shifted, the seat belt going taut between her breasts for a moment until she settled again. “It was a fantasy of mine. Sex for hire. I met a woman who said she’d help me fulfill it by finding the right man.”
“Was that Isabel?”
Robyn smiled. “Yes. I was only going to do it once.”
Seth adjusted the mirror again, listening.
“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” Courtney said.
“It gave me the biggest high, better than any drug could ever do. I wanted more of it.”
Courtney had to admit there was a certain thrill to the idea. “So you started doing it full-time?”
“No, I was still working as a financial advisor at a private investment institution. I liked the job.”
Devon had told her that courtesans often had other careers, that they were educated. They weren’t people Isabel picked up off a street corner. “Where did you go to school?”
“Brown University. However, I wanted to move out to the West Coast.”
An Ivy Leaguer. No wonder she sounded cultured. “Who wouldn’t want to live out here, especially the Bay Area?” Courtney enthused. “I’m born and bred myself.” At Stanford Hospital in Palo Alto. Seth was from Chicago. They’d met in college. “Don’t you worry that someone you work with might find out?”
“Isabel does very careful screening and discretion is paramount.” Robyn 38
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tipped her head. “You needn’t fear that anyone will find out about this weekend.”
She zipped her lip.
“I don’t.” Courtney hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t like she was cheating on Seth. Her parents were gone. Good Lord if the girls found out though.
“As for me,” Robyn went on, glancing out the side window, “I was a casualty of the economic downturn.” She turned back with a smile. “Now I am a full-time courtesan.” She laughed, a pretty sound. “We have our own system for paying income taxes. Isabel has figured out everything.” Her eyes sparkled with whatever ingenuity Isabel had devised to make sure the government didn’t get stiffed. So to speak. “The stress is a lot less,” Robyn went on. “You can’t imagine what it was like trying to explain a forty percent loss in someone’s portfolio. Or the guilt. Then the difficulty in convincing them when the time is right to get back in . . .” She put a hand to her chest. “In the current economic climate, pleasuring men and women sexually is a lot more fun than managing their investments.”
Women? Courtney glanced at Seth. His eyes were on the road, hands comfortably guiding the wheel, cruise control set at a sedate seventy miles per hour. Despite his relaxed pose, there was a distinctive bulge in his shorts. Oh God. Courtney couldn’t help a little blip of her heart. He didn’t expect that, did he? “So you pleasure women, too?”
Robyn’s lips trembled, then she chuckled. “You’d be surprised at the number of men who like to see their wives find the ultimate pleasure from a woman’s caress and a woman’s lips.”
Oh my Lord. Seth shot her a shit-eating grin. There was no other term for it.
“Well, that wasn’t exactly what Seth and I were looking for.” She emphasized by pinching his arm lightly.
“I’m glad.” Robyn leaned forward to pat Courtney’s hand. “I do prefer men.”
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6
SETH DIDN’T KNOW WHETHER TO LAUGH OR STOP THE CAR AND run away screaming. His cock had taken on a life of its own picturing the . . . topic of conversation, as it were. Robyn was gorgeous, intelligent, and soft-spoken. She concentrated on Courtney, not him. The discussion wasn’t foreplay; it was designed to put Courtney at ease. Somehow, instead of making it all about him and his needs, Robyn turned it into Courtney’s party. That was exactly what he wanted. He’d barely had a free minute in the last two weeks, which had irked Courtney to no end. He’d sworn to himself this weekend would be all about her, about what she needed. It wasn’t just him fucking some other woman. This was about him and Courtney. Robyn was a mechanism to bring them closer together. As long as it didn’t blow up in his face.
“So tell me your favorite position, Seth.” Robyn added a little hmm. Holy hell. He’d been ruminating too much and missed that somehow the two women had finally decided to include him.
“Don’t say missionary,” Robyn warned, laughter lacing the stern tone.
“I like missionary,” Courtney said, a pout on her lips.
“Fibber,” he scolded. “You like being on top.” He tipped his head to catch Robyn in the mirror. “She loves to be in control.”
“I do not. It’s merely that when I’m on top, I can—” Courtney stopped. Laughed. Then covered her mouth.
“Come on, Courtney,” Robyn chided, “tell us what you
like doing when you’re on top.”
“I can’t say it aloud.” She pretended to be the prude, which she was definitely not. Then again, this was a situation unlike any she’d ever encountered.
Seth smirked. “I’ll tell you what she likes to do.”
Courtney shot over the console and put her hand over his lips. “You keep that to yourself.”
In the backseat, Robyn laughed at their antics. “I bet you love to masturbate. Rub your clit. Frig yourself.”
The words said aloud in that soft, genteel voice strummed his cock. He pulled Courtney’s hand away and shoved her palm down on his cock. Christ, he was 40
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hard. He could do Courtney in the backseat on the side of the highway, he was that turned on. He scented her as if she were a bitch in heat, the sweet, musky aroma of arousal he was so damn familiar with. He could taste her pussy on his tongue. Courtney had the sweetest pussy. He loved going down on her. The fact that they had an audience gave him a high he’d never experienced.
“Have you ever done a more exotic position? How about all fours, reverse cowgirl, standing up, or South Slav?”
“What’s South Slav?” Courtney concentrated on Robyn, yet all the while rubbing Seth’s cock with the bump and sway of the car along the freeway, a subtle pressure that drove him nuts.
“South Slav is when your man lays you on your back in bed, pulls you to the edge. He lifts your legs up straight and crosses your ankles before sliding his cock slowly, deeply inside you. As he moves, he kisses your feet. It’s very erotic.”
Robyn waited expectantly, brows raised.
A throb started in his cock, spreading out.
Courtney harrumphed. “I’m not that limber.”
“Hah.” He adjusted the mirror slightly so Robyn would realize he spoke to her. “She walks four miles a day over the hills around our house. She’s limber enough for anything.”
Courtney wrinkled her nose. “Maybe I’ll need a demonstration.”
Robyn stared pointedly at him in the mirror. “We can certainly make sure you get all the demonstration you need.”
Hers for the Evening Page 4
