Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
My smile faded. Too bad the sexual chemistry was all wrong. It might’ve been the perfect marriage.
The breeze curled around my bare legs beneath the stiff skirt. Despite the toe-squeezing heels, it would’ve been a beautiful night to walk the four blocks from the Trenchant Media building. A beautiful night for a race.
Every cell in my body sizzled with anticipation. In just a few hours, I would be waiting at the finish line, straining for a stolen glimpse of him.
“Good evening, Mrs. Baskel.” The attendant swept ahead of my brisk walk and held the exterior door open with a decorous stance, his attentive gaze awaiting my direction should I need anything.
My executive position at Trenchant Media, my renowned husband, and our moneyed lifestyle commanded superior service from staff and colleagues. But beneath the tailored power-suit and affluent family, I was a woman like any other with a need for acceptance, a connection to cling to, a passion to balance out the monotony. “Evening, Jimmy. Has Mr. Anderson received any visitors this evening?”
“Yes, ma’am. A young man arrived forty-five minutes ago.”
Oh hell, yes. “Thank you.” I shaped my mouth into a flat line to hide a giddy smile and quickened my gait through the marble foyer. In the elevator, the silver-haired attendant pressed the button for the eighty-eighth floor. A minute later, I strode into the foyer of the condo, pulling the pins from my hair and freeing the unruly blonde mess.
The hall on the left led to my suite, and the one on the right would take me to Collin’s rooms. But I continued to the front like I did every night, magnetized to the wall of windows and its views of the lake, the river, the bridges, and the twinkling cityscape.
Dropping the satchel and purse on the suede armchair, I veered to the wet bar and poured a dirty martini, extra dirty.
The first sip awoke my throat and warmed my blood, instantly relaxing the twelve hours of tension that had accumulated at work. Pinpricks bit through the arches of my feet, but the heels would stay on a little longer. I needed the seduction of those five extra inches for whatever awaited in Collin’s bedroom.
Lost to the glow of lights flickering eighty-eight stories below, I finished the martini, poured another, and removed the suit jacket. Drink in hand, I entered Collin’s hall, hoping to catch him in a deliciously compromising position.
Strained grunts greeted me at the cracked door. I nudged it open with the toe of my shoe and leaned against the doorframe to absorb the sensual landscape.
The bed sat perpendicular to the door at the far side of the room. Collin lay on his back, lengthwise on the mattress, his legs dangling off the end. The cords in his neck stretched, every gorgeous inch of him bare. His fingers threaded through the dark hair of the familiar head bobbing between his spread thighs. Seth knelt on the floor, one hand kneading Collin’s balls, the other pinching and twisting his dark nipple.
My skin heated from the inside out, and my mouth moistened. God, I loved watching Collin in the throes of pleasure. He gave so much of himself to his demanding job and family. It was liberating to see him take something for himself.
He rolled his hips, his trim body trembling, and his eyes caught mine. “Kaci.” His fingers curled on the bed in a come-hither motion.
All of his lovers were bisexual, and this one was a regular. Perhaps too regular. Seth wasn’t one of the hired escorts from the discreet service Collin used. He’d met this particular lover at a photo shoot, and while the dark-haired photographer had always tolerated me, his affections centered one-hundred percent on Collin. Like now.
“Fuck.” Collin groaned. “The man knows how to give head.”
Yeah, yeah, I’d heard it for years. Supposedly, a woman couldn’t rival the sucking power of a man’s lips. I set the martini on the dresser and sashayed toward the bed. “I do, too.” Collin knew this, not because his cock had ever breached my lips, but because he’d been watching me blow guys since we were fifteen.
“Show him.” Collin’s long fingers tightened in Seth’s hair, yanking the man off him.
Seth had fucked me a few times—my ass, my cunt, but not yet my mouth. He climbed to his feet and licked his lips. So blatant in the focus of his lust, he didn’t spare me a glance. His gaze remained locked on Collin’s erection as he shoved his briefs to his feet and kicked them away.
Seth might’ve preferred Collin, but he never seemed repulsed by my participation. Good thing, because Collin was my husband, and our unconventional marriage required a middle man. If Seth entertained any misgivings about his role in our relationship, I wouldn’t have to show him the door. Collin would do it for me.