“That was a good night for us. However, I, well, Eleanor is rather traditional, and lately, our coupling has been rather, well, mundane...” I didn’t know if continuing was wise, but I needed to get my thoughts out. My wife had set a precedent on our wedding night that had guided us for twenty years. “She is my wife, not a doxy. Therefore, I don’t wish to make demands on her she isn’t comfortable with.”
“Do the two of you still share a bed?” he asked.
Another shell passed us. The eight members were part of a competing rowing club. With a nod at them, I continued to keep pace.
We had gone against convention and shared a bedroom since Harry was born. After so many years, I was used to falling asleep and waking up next to Eleanor. Most nights, it was comforting. At other times, there seemed to be an invisible wall between us. “Yes, we have since Harry was small. He had nightmares, well, he still does, and he gets agitated if he has to choose between us.”
“That, unto itself, must pose a problem if you wish to bed her.” He continued to row with steady strokes. “Have you talked to her about changing things up?”
“I haven’t broached it recently.” A cool wind whipped the water, causing waves to lap on the hull.
“Recently, or not in twenty years?”
The flush on my cheeks had nothing to do with rowing. I adjusted my legs, the muscles of my thighs protesting. “The latter.”
“I see.” The two words said it all.
“The truth is, I don’t know how to broach the subject again.” Frustration over my own cowardice shamed me.
“Be honest with her. Everything you told me today could be resolved in a conversation.” He shrugged, his wise words rolling around in my mind.
“That is easier said than accomplished. I used to be able to talk to her about anything. Lately, she’s shut herself off. I don’t know how to get to her.”
“Would you like me to speak to her?”
I snorted and leaned forward to wipe my dripping brow against my sleeve. “And be slapped for my insolence? I don’t think so.”
Flynn chuckled. “It would certainly liven things up in your marriage bed.”
“I hardly think that is the direction I am leaning. I simply wish her to shed her inhibitions and try something less conventional.”
“Like a ménage la trois?” Flynn asked.
“You think I should introduce another woman into her bed?” I scoffed at his teasing remark. “If I wanted to be with another woman, I could find a mistress.” I wanted to be with my wife. Naked. In bed, touching every inch of her, rather than wrestlingwith clothing that limited access to her soft curves under the cover of darkness. “Have you had such an arrangement?”
“I have, and it was rather pleasant, I might add. You and Eleanor might find it quite liberating.”
“If I considered it, which I am not, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” The air whipping up from the water turned frigid and felt good on my heated skin. Eleanor would have my head if I even mentioned the idea.
“It is quite easy. Find the third person to join you and make a proposition.”
“I can’t even talk to my wife about touching her breasts without her gown on. How would I ever talk her into having relations with another woman?” I had never thought of myself as a failure or weak of character, yet I could hear the decided whine in my voice. When had I become helpless?
“It doesn’t have to be a woman.” He angled his head and inspected me for a long moment.
A splash of water from his oars hit my hands. My skin broke out in goosebumps at his words, my heart racing and not from exercising. Our night in Oxford came to the forefront of my mind. The only sounds were the water lapping against the boat’s hull, and the steady creaking of the oars. Sunshine continued to warm my cheeks, and confusion muddled my mind. Certainly, he wasn’t suggesting what I thought he was suggesting, the three of us having a ménage a trio. “Regardless of the sex of the third party, Eleanor would never be open to such a bold suggestion.”
“Hypothetically speaking, would you agree if she were open to such an arrangement?” He turned the boat back the way we’d come. Tension exuded from him, and I studied the back of his head, wishing I could read his expression.
His question disturbed me on many levels. Could Flynn be the one having an affair with Eleanor? It was a man’s bold handwriting I’d glimpsed before Eleanor hid the vellum. Mypulse was racing so hard it was difficult to hear more than the pounding in my ears. I had never doubted her fidelity to me or Flynn’s loyalty to our friendship. Perhaps I was simply being naïve. They spent hours together playing music, and I never questioned their arrangement. “Are you and she having an affair?”
“That is most insulting. I would never cuckold you like that, nor have Eleanor and I ever even discussed having an affair.” Flynn stopped rowing, and I followed his lead, needing to discover the truth without distraction. He twisted on his seat to face me, his dark eyes blazing with fury. “I was simply putting the suggestion of a ménage out there. What made you assume I was talking about myself?”
Tense silence rested between us, my mind spinning with what I wanted to say. He had every right to be angry at my accusation, yet jealousy seemed to have grabbed hold of my mind. It was unfair to blame him for something I wasn’t sure of. “Because of what happened at Oxford. It seemed a logical conclusion given our history.”
“I won’t lie and say the memory of that night hasn’t crossed my mind of late. Since your anniversary party, I can’t seem to leave the past in the past.” The anger faded from his face, and he nodded, regret and sadness mingling in his downturned mouth. He turned back around and steered the boat toward the dock. “Time seems to be running at an accelerated rate.”
“I understand.” Everything was changing in our worlds. I stared at his dark hair blowing in the wind. Many moons ago, I sank my fingers into his hair while he sucked my cock. It was the first time someone other than myself had touched me so intimately. I became aroused simply reliving the memory. “It seems like yesterday the twins were born and now Anne will be engaged soon. Just because the children are embarking on their own lives doesn’t mean ours is ended.”
