My husband didn't just give me a hall pass for his business trip, he gave me an explicit command. I was to put on the black lace he'd bought, go down to the hotel bar, and let another man have me.
My first reaction was shock, a flash of hot anger at being used for his dirty fantasy. But just as quickly, a dark, thrilling pulse of excitement bloomed in my belly. The idea of it… the permission… was more intoxicating than any champagne.
I didn't have to leave the suite. When my room service arrived in the hands of a handsome waiter with soulful eyes and a hungry smirk, I saw my chance. One look, one invitation, and he was mine for the taking. Our panting, passionate sin was interrupted when the door clicked open. But it wasn't fury my husband held in his eyes as he took in the scene. It was pure lust. He didn't want the stranger to leave. He wanted a front-row seat.
He thought it was his fantasy we were playing out that night, but now I'm not so sure. He's awakened a desire in me that might just consume us all.
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