Ivy rolled her eyes and poured champagne into the two empty glasses waiting in the center of the table. “Marco,don’tencourage them, you bloody bellend.”
“Why? They look happy!” he defended. “Look at them. Callum looks like he just won another WDC titleandgot a blowjob under the podium.”
I laughed under my breath, cheeks warm. He wasn’t entirely wrong. There was a certain, indescribable peace in me, a weightlessness that accompanied the skin-on-skin afterglow. I’d never felt more content. Or more hers.
“Aurélie, how do you always look like you’reglowing?” Lucy asked, genuinely curious, head tilted as she looked up at her.
I smirked. Auri leaned into my side with a practiced ease that told me she already knew the answer, and was fully prepared to say it. She opened her mouth, about to speak?—
“I told you,” Ivy cut in flatly. “Magical weenie syndrome.”
Kimi immediately stood up, hands raised in surrender. “Please sit and end this conversation before it takes a turn none of us come back from.”
“Thank fuck,” Ivy sighed, not even looking up as she sipped her drink. “Irefuseto let them do this again.”
Lucy slid out of the booth and gestured dramatically. “In the middle, you two. None of us want to sit next to you while you radiate married energy and foreplay.”
“We don’t radiate foreplay,” I said dryly, though my hand stayed at the small of my wife’s back as she laughed softly.
We shuffled in—Auri first, me sliding in beside her. She scooted closer, warm and flush against my side, right where she belonged.
Marco tipped his glass at me, smirk sharp. “Well damn. You’ve got that look, mate. Like somebody tied you up, blew your mind, and then handed you a national holiday.”
Auri didn’t even flinch. “Wrong person tied up, Marco,” she said casually, eyes glittering. “Shame no one wants the dirty details. It’s a very patriotic story.”
I barked a laugh, dragging a hand over my face, heat blooming in my chest. God, I loved her.
Ivy recovered first, wheezing, “You people need to be supervised.”
Marco raised his hand. “I volunteer.”
“You’re disturbed,” Kimi muttered as he and Lucy reclaimed their seats at the far end of the booth. There was still a noticeable gap between them that was smaller than before, charged now with something tentative and electric.Close enough for an occasional subtle raze. Far enough to pretend they weren’t thinking about something more.
I glanced at Auri, wondering if we were ever that obvious about what was between us, a small smile tugging at my lips as I thought about it all.
Once an inextinguishable flame, now an everlasting constellation, charting the sky of everything I’d ever want again.
Menus appeared. Drinks were ordered—another round of champagne, a bottle of something red that Marco insisted would “change lives,” and a parade of shared plates that started arriving almost immediately. Warm bread, marinated olives, grilled halloumi drizzled in honey, and a decadent array of artisan cheeses and cured meats arranged like a still-life painting across the middle of the table.
By the end of the second round of drinks, the group was fully feral, and it was hitting me like velvet. A floaty warmth buzzed beneath my skin, light and heady and golden, the kind that blurred the edges of everything just enough to make me feel weightless. Like all the air in the world had been replaced with pleasure.
Then I felt something soft graze my palm under the table.
I glanced down—and nearly fuckingchoked.
Lace. Warm and damp.
Her panties.
She’d taken them off.
She’dtaken them offand pressed them into my hand like it was nothing. Like we weren’t seated in public, surrounded by friends, sipping champagne with half a dozen forks clinking against porcelain.
My fingers closed instinctively, clenching around them like they were the only thing tethering me to sanity. Then I slipped them into my pocket like it was the talisman of our marriage.
Auri’s hand slid onto my thigh a second later, subtle and slow, and I felt every nerve ending flare like she’d just touched me with fire. Her fingers inched higher, just a fraction, then a little more.
I looked at her—and that was my first mistake.
