“I’ll start a fire.”
I sip my wine and watch as he goes about the work of making a fire in the stone fireplace that faces the bed. The muscles under his shirt bunch and flex, and he adds wood and gets the flames burning to his satisfaction.
When he returns to the bed, he’s smiling. He lifts his glass. “To weddings.”
I giggle and tap my glass lightly to his. “To weddings.”
The wine is dry but smooth. Any tension I felt melts away as the alcohol spreads warmth through my chest and limbs.
I take another sip, then a full drink, drowning out the demons that tell me this will end after tonight. It always ends after the hookup. It has to.
I drain my glass and cling to the words he typed. You make me believe there could be more. You make me want something more. Now that he knows it’s me, does he still feel that way? And what is more? Commitment? Family? Or just more than a random hookup once a year?
“I’m glad you came tonight,” he says softly.
I have so many questions—like what he thought when he realized it had been me all this time, or if he knew before I stepped out of the car—but he’s pulling back the covers.
“If you’re going to be in bed with me, I want to be able to see you.”
“Did you . . . want it to be me?” I ask. I shouldn’t. There’s a rule about asking questions if you don’t want to know the answer. “When I pulled into the driveway, did part of you . . . Did you think I’d be the one coming here tonight?”
“You surprised me, I guess. Why?”
I shake my head, too insecure to explain why I need to know. I didn’t just want River to be Sam. I wanted Sam to want Tink to be me. When we’d exchange dirty messages, sometimes my whole body would go cold. Something about it would feel wrong. Off. But it was the thought of Sam that brought me back, that made the exchanges hot instead of mechanical. Arousing instead of creepy. But if that wasn’t the case for him—if spending the night with me is no different than spending the night with any other woman—I’m not sure I want to know. “Never mind.”
He’s studying me, brow wrinkled but a half-smile curving his lips. Like I’m a curious puzzle he’s trying to figure out. “Tonight, you were the only one I wanted to be with.” With his index finger, he traces the line of my jaw and the column of my neck, and a shiver races down my arms, leaving goose bumps in its path. His gaze dips lower and finds my breasts, my hard nipples, but then he looks me in the eye again and says, “I think about you. A lot.”
I bite my lip but I know he can still see my smile. “I think about you too.”
“You’re still cold.”
I nod.
“How about we check out the hot tub while that fire warms up?”
“Hot tub?”
He grins and nods to the French doors. “Right out there.”
Slowly, he removes my bra and peels my panties from my hips. Then he climbs out of bed, and I watch him as he undresses. My mouth waters at the sight of all that hard muscle and bare skin. I want to touch him. Taste him.
He offers me his hand. “Come with me?”
* * *
Sam
Liz waits for me in the hot tub as I gather our wine glasses and a few candles to put around the edge of the spa that sits into the covered deck. There are lights on the deck, but I don’t want to turn them on and sacrifice our privacy. Tonight it’s just us, Liz and me, and the rest of the world is the silent darkness beyond. It’ll be waiting for us in the morning, and until then, we can ignore it.
“This is romantic,” Liz says as I climb into the gurgling spa. Candlelight flickers across her features, and the steam that rises from the spa has made the tendrils of hair around her face curl. If it’s possible, she looks even more beautiful now than she did at the wedding.
I hand her a glass of wine and watch as she takes a long drink and moans softly. I settle into a spot across from her, but I can’t take my eyes off her—her flushed cheeks, the rise and fall of her breasts just above the water. I didn’t believe I’d ever get another night with Liz. But here we are.
She sets her wine glass on the edge and swims across to me. “You’re too far away.”
“Is that so?”
She climbs onto my lap, straddling me and wrapping her legs behind my back. “That’s better.”
I groan as she shifts her hips and settles against the hard length of my cock. “Better and worse,” I breathe. Because it makes me want more. I could lift her by the hips and bring her down on me, could fuck her right here with the water bubbling around us and no protective barrier between me and all that hot, tight flesh.