Crosstown Crush

by Cara McKenna

  Sam’s heart was pounding, but only half from the private show. If she could only watch five seconds of that video ever again, it would’ve been his smile, and the way his muscles had tensed from laughing when he’d scolded his dog. And that realization had her hands trembling, as she admitted to herself, she had a crush on him.

  Duh. But the clarity of the thought was so sharp and so sudden, it stung. She should be hot for him, that was fine. If she could come from his touch – his mouth or hands or cock – all the better. But a crush? Why did that scare her so much?

  Because Mike doesn’t get hard imagining my crush.

  No, Mike didn’t fixate on soft things – first kisses, private and tender touches, the subtle trappings of romantic interest. For that matter, neither did Bern, she assumed. She was feeling something that belonged only to her, with no place in their games. She’d imagined having sex with any number of men she’d never, ever touch – strangers and celebrities and wholly fictional men – in the five years she’d been with Mike.

  But I’ve not had a crush on a one of them. Nothing this warm and soft and…

  Stop it.

  When she took the earbuds out, Mike asked, “You okay?”

  “Oh yeah. Just…” She made a frazzled noise, feeling every measure of it. “I think I’ll take a bath.”

  “It’s after ten,” he said, watching her kick away the covers.

  “I know, but I’m all wired.” Let him think it was a ploy, let him think she was pretending to sneak away, to touch herself under the guise of the bath. In reality, she was wired. Only because no one’s ever sent me homemade porn before. Not from Bern’s smile. Not from hearing him say her name…

  And not just Sam, either. Samira. Mike used her full name when he was worried about her; to check that she was okay. Bern wielded it in a far more mischievous way.

  The hot water dissolved the bulk of her worries, leaving a simmering buzz of arousal. By the time the heat waned, she knew full well that Mike would have watched those same few minutes’ debauchery she had, and she was eager for the sex that awaited her. He’d be thinking of the things that excited him – the threat of the man his wife lusted for. Of that man’s size, his confidence, his words. He wouldn’t dwell for a moment on his smile or laugh, or the silliness of him shushing his dog. He’d fixate on the blunt, aggressive aspects, the dynamics that vibrated on his male wavelength. Those subtler seductions wouldn’t even register.

  And they shouldn’t. And they wouldn’t, not outside of those few minutes’ panic. It was late, and Sam was overthinking her reaction. And policing herself for something entirely natural. I mean, God forbid I have a crush on the man I’m getting off with.

  Mike had changed since their games had become reality, though not in any of the ways she’d imagined or feared. She’d worried he might grow jealous or possessive in a capacity that felt more angry than lustful. Or that he’d become insecure in everyday life, not merely while he was mired in his role, or turn genuinely distrustful of her. Or hateful toward Bern. But she’d been wrong.

  Mike was changing in a dozen soft, surprising ways. He’d never been stingy with affection, but now she caught him touching her fondly at odd, sweet moments. He smiled at her more, the gesture sometimes sheepish, sometimes hungry, but always warm and conspiring. Gratitude suffused him, and she felt it in his touch and saw it in his eyes, tasted it in the needy, eager way he kissed her.

  While they’d never stagnated or even cooled much toward each other, she hadn’t felt this… this infatuation humming from him since they’d first fallen in love. She hummed for him as well, as surely as she hummed for Bern. It brought to mind a term she’d come across when looking into the whole cuckolding thing to begin with, one used in the polyamory community. New relationship energy. That honeymoon glow you could only get from a new lover, or in Mike’s case, from a wife he was suddenly viewing through a mind-bending new lens. Through a kaleidoscope, through a chemical high.

  She stood from the bath and toweled off, feeling light and loose. Mike would be in bed, hard as hell and wound so tight it had to hurt. Bern was a few miles away, probably sleeping soundly, she thought, smiling as she dressed.

  She shut off the light and fan and padded into the bedroom, finding Mike reading. Or pretending to read.

  “Good bath?”

  “Very nice.”

  He watched her climb into bed, his gaze surprisingly mild. Had he not taken the hint? She’d left that video open on her phone just for him.

  “Three more workdays,” she said, switching off her lamp. Three more workdays and it was the weekend, sure. But three more workdays and their next encounter with Bern was going down. Christmas countdown, she thought, recalling his analogy.

  “Three more,” Mike agreed, turning onto his side to stroke her bare arm.

  She smiled at him. “You feeling amorous, Mr. Heyer?” She was on her period, but that never stopped them.

  Gaze on his grazing fingers, he said, “I watched it.”

  “Oh?”

  Were they playing? She didn’t think so. If they’d been playing, Mike would be acting hurt. She felt her stomach sour, dread coiling inside her.

  He met her eyes. “Did it turn you on?”

  Truth only. “Yeah. It did.”

  “And that’s what he wants most. Somebody watching.”

  She nodded, feeling cold. Scared.

  “Let’s get a camera,” Mike said.

  Like a knot tugged free, Sam’s entire body fell slack from relief. “A video camera?”

  “If you’re comfortable with it.”

  “It’s sooner than we’d planned to go there – only our fourth date, or whatever you could call it… but I think I’m ready, yeah.” Her only real misgivings about taping the sex were those of vanity – she was far more nervous about seeing her naked body on-screen than she was about the video getting out. Mike would be careful, and Bern got off on being watched, so there was more in it for him if they kept it for themselves.

  “You think you’re ready?” Mike prompted.

  “I am.” She smiled. “A little shy about seeing my naked ass on camera, that’s all. But that, in exchange for simultaneously fulfilling two gorgeous men’s greatest fantasies?”

  “Think about it for a couple of days. If you still feel okay, maybe we’ll do a little shopping on Saturday morning.”

  And maybe she’d get to send Bern a text to the tune of, You must have been a good boy – looks like Santa brought you a camera. Man, would that ever get him off. Then she pictured the theoretical video, of Bern’s gaze burning into the lens, his performance as much for their eyes as it would be for Sam’s body.

  “I already know my answer,” Sam announced.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Don’t forget we’ll need a tripod.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  S

  amira squinted as the sun dropped low, zapping her through the kitchen window. She checked the clock. Twenty minutes to eight – shit. She abandoned the remaining dinner dishes in the sink and jogged down the hall and upstairs, through the bedroom and into the bath. Mike was brushing his teeth, and she elbowed him aside.

  “Hang on, hang on.” He leaned over to spit and rinsed his brush. “Okay, all yours. Jesus, you’re wound up.” He said it lovingly and tousled the hair she’d spent twenty minutes styling.

  “It’s my cinematic debut,” she said, smoothing what he’d mussed. She pulled her makeup bag over and got to work.

  “Anything else that needs doing before showtime?”

  “Just the last of the dishes.”

  “On it.”

  He left her alone with her performance anxiety.

  She shouldn’t be this nervous. It was only Bern. Well, not only Bern, not like it was only stay-in-with-a-movie-and-pizza date night or something like that. But she knew him, in a way. In a few very, very intimate ways, and she trusted their dynamic.

  Only tonight was different. She’d texted him from the car as
she and Mike had pulled out of the Best Buy lot.

  Just bought a little surprise for tonight.

  Sam had waited a patient forty-five minutes while Mike had deliberated the choices, and she’d eyed each one like it was the fourth witness they were going to invite into their scandal.

  Bern’s reply had come just after they’d crossed the bridge. Oh yeah? Tell me more.

  Well, it’s two parts, really. And one of them is a tripod.

  She’d held her breath, butterflies swirling. He hadn’t replied until after they arrived home and Mike had been opening the camera’s box.

  Ping.

  Sorry. Head exploded.

  She’d laughed.

  “That him?”

  “Yeah. I think we just broke him.”

  Mike’s smile had been grim, but not mean. “Long as he appreciates how good he’s got it.”

  “He does.”

  And even after two encounters – and two weeks of their X-rated pen pal arrangement – the man’s imminent arrival still gave Sam schoolgirl jitters. He was sex and mischief all rolled into one tall, muscular package. She trusted him with a very big secret, one that could hurt her and Mike much worse than him, should it get out. It gave him actual power. And she liked it.

  She finished her makeup, head filling up with ideas about what the camera might catch tonight. She eyed it as she walked through the bedroom, making a mental note to not leave it perched on the tripod like that when the cleaning lady was due to come. Like she hasn’t seen weirder shit. Well, maybe not weirder than the shit she might discover if she actually watched the video.

  Everything felt different this evening, the stakes higher. There was the camera, but there was more. She could sense it.

  All this time, Sam had taken her own pleasure from fulfilling two men’s wishes, but she was growing curious about things that neither of them had yet owned. It felt as though it was only a matter of time before Mike would take a more active role – if nothing else, masturbating while he watched her and Bern together. Given the chance, maybe their arrangement might evolve into an actual three-way, and maybe Mike would let Bern see exactly how blurry the edges of his kink were, its humiliation aspects drawing the two men closer. Would Bern want to see what Sam had – Mike lapping away what he’d left on her skin? Could he take his role that far, or were there limits to his showmanship?

  She couldn’t guess, but boundaries were forming, ripe for fucking with. She’d fantasized about the next obvious step, about Bern looking Mike right in the eye and saying, “Your wife looks good getting fucked by a real man, doesn’t she?” In her mind, Mike didn’t reply, and Bern went on. “I can’t help but feel bad she’s cheating on you with me… Go ahead and rub one out. Watching us is probably hotter than anything you’ve managed with her.”

  She wouldn’t be surprised if Bern took them there. He was quickly becoming the conductor in these encounters, and she bet he’d only grow bolder with time. He’d settled capably into his role as wife-defiling alpha male, and seemed poised to take a more active approach to the defiling of Mike – in orders and cruel words, if not physical contact.

  She hoped he would. She wanted Mike drawn into the encounters as a whole body, not just a set of eyes. Tonight he might hold the camera. Soon, perhaps, he’d let Bern see how far his kink drew him into its shadows, let him watch that first step of the reclaiming, as he cleaned away the offense. And she hoped they’d take it even further, in time. She wanted to watch those two strong bodies, so adept at pleasing her, inching closer and closer, the darker these games grew. Mike had already tasted Bern on her skin. Would he taste the man himself? Would Bern let him —

  The doorbell rang, putting an end to her theorizing and announcing the handing over of supremacy from one man to another. She pecked Mike on the cheek as they passed on the stairs – her heading for the front, him to his office, where he’d hide until he was ready to walk in on them.

  She waited until he was out of sight, then opened the door.

  Christ, this man floored her. That familiar, sly smile had her heart thumping, skin heating. Funny how having an infatuation with one man didn’t diminish her love and attraction for another. Sam was fast becoming a monogamist’s nightmare.

  “Hey.” Bern shut the door behind him and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  She accepted it with a squeeze of his shoulder. “Hey yourself. Good to see you. In person, that is.”

  He gave her a thorough looking-over. “Not half as good as seeing you.”

  “Wine?” she asked, leading him to the kitchen.

  “If you’re having some.”

  “I am.”

  Bern watched as she opened the bottle. “I make you nervous, still?”

  “Barely at all,” she said, smiling. In fact, this was her first drink of the night, a testament to her growing comfort. “And only nervous in good ways.” She poured two measures of red and they toasted.

  “I could always take or leave wine before I met you,” he said, studying his glass. “Now I catch myself craving it.”

  She grinned. “That’s because it tastes like foreplay.”

  He laughed. As his smile faded, his eyes narrowed with a thought. “So I’ve been here twice now. And you keep asking me back.”

  Sam spoke quietly, in case Mike was in the mood to keep the game’s infrastructure hidden. “We have indeed.”

  “So is what I’ve been doing working for you? Both of you? Need me to be more of a dick, less of a dick, anything like that?”

  “I think you’ve been a perfect dick, so far. And I hope you’ll be able to keep it up when he joins us.”

  “That happening tonight?”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “And I should just keep up the current dick levels?”

  She laughed. “Or maybe even ramp it up further, if you could. I mean, be how you have been toward me, but you really can’t be too cocky and mean toward him, I don’t think.”

  “He really likes that, huh?”

  She grinned. “Oh yeah, he loves it.”

  The pensiveness left his face and he returned her smile. “Good. And you’re fine with it?”

  “Definitely. We invited you over to be a show-off and an asshole, so, by all means.” She studied him with her eyes narrowed, full to the brim with mischief.

  “Yeah?”

  “Lights, camera, action, tonight.”

  She watched Bern’s expression change. He took another sip, eyes unfocused.

  Their arrangement was like a big game of kinky hot potato, power getting passed among the three of them. Right now it was hers, and it felt good, like slipping into a killer dress. She’d never felt this sexy before in her life. And though she’d never have the body of a twentysomething again, at thirty-six she had two men panting at her feet and the experience to know what to do with them.

  “Can’t wait,” he said softly. “So you guys are comfortable with that?”

  She nodded. “We’ll be keeping the tape. Or the file or whatever. No offense, we do trust you, but with us being married, and Mike’s job, we’d be way more fucked than you if it wound up on the Internet.”

  “No, that’s fine. Of course.” He took another sip, nodding thoughtfully. “Plus, you know me —”

  Yes, she supposed she did.

  “I’d get way more out of you keeping it,” Bern said. “Out of you guys watching it. Just text me when you do, maybe.”

  “Easy.” She clinked her glass against his, feeling smug and happy as a well-fed cat. “That’s why this is all such a perfect arrangement.”

  An arrangement, yes. And arrangements ended, but when?

  Not soon, Sam hoped, though they couldn’t go on forever. Bern was a good guy and an honest one, she believed, and she imagined that if he started dating someone else, he’d have the courtesy to break things off with her and Mike. So they’d lose him someday, and probably because he chose to end things. It gave her a pang, sharp with sadness and, yes, jealousy. Bit ironic, that
. But she couldn’t imagine finding another man who fit the bill like Bern did, and knowing it couldn’t last was like knowing summer vacation would end with the start of school – an inevitability to be dreaded for the fun it ruined.