“That’s enough, baby.” He murmurs it against my temple, his touch gentling.
I slump against his chest, absolutely destroyed. His cock is hard as stone against my hip, and I reach down to palm him through his pants, but he catches my wrist.
“Tonight,” he says, and his voice alone makes my pussy flutter. “I have that cocktail reception for the firm. I want you there with me.”
My stomach drops. Blackstone & Associates. James will be there.
“Of course.” My practiced social smile snaps into place. I’d rather chew glass, but Shannon Matthews, the partner’s wife, never misses a Blackstone function. Breaking the pattern now would be the kind of red flag even Robert couldn’t miss.
My phone buzzes in my robe pocket. I flinch. Not a twitch, a full-body jolt, and Robert’s brow creases. “You okay?”
I pull the phone out and practically sigh in relief. It’s a committee reminder from the neighborhood association.
“Fine.” I hold up the screen so he can see. “Just Carol wanting me to chair another benefit.”
Robert laughs and pulls me closer. “Tell Carol she can have you after I’m done with you.”
I laugh too, and it sounds real even to me.
The lies are getting easier. And that’s the part that scares me most.
Chapter 2
The night is expensive champagne and charcoal suits talking billable hours. It’s the same damn cocktail reception year after year. Why doesn’t everyone get sick of these?
I’ve already found James Whitmore. He’s standing with two associates near the windows, holding a glass of red wine he’s barely sipped from. I clocked him the second Robert and I walked in, and I’ve been tracking his position for forty minutes like this is a poker game. I’m watching for tells.
Less than two weeks ago, I had two men inside me at the same time. I’m nodding at stories about the stock market and mortgages while my dress feels like it’s shrinking around my ribs. I’m vacuum-sealed into Mrs. Robert Matthews. So far removed from the filthy slut at the casino.
My pussy gives a quiet throb, like she’s reminding me which version of Shannon she prefers.
Not now, you horny traitor.
Robert steps into the hallway to take a call. Just like that, I’m alone in a room full of people with no husband to hide behind.
James appears at my elbow.
“Shannon. Good to see you.” His smile is fake warm.
“James, hi. How’s Laura?”
“She’s great. Couldn’t make it tonight.” He tilts his wine glass. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
Every muscle in my face locks into position. I take a sip of my champagne so my hands have something to do besides tremble.
“I was at the Goldpoint Casino a couple weeks back.” He says it like it’s nothing. “Interesting place. I could have sworn I saw someone who looked just like you near the bar. Heading toward the elevator, actually.”
Okay, Shannon. You’ve bluffed across a poker table with a pair of sevens. You can handle one curious guy at a cocktail party.
“The Goldpoint?” I wrinkle my nose. The socialite who’s never heard of such a place. “That doesn’t sound like my scene.”
“No, I suppose not.” James laughs. But his eyes don’t leave mine, and they’re sharp. The look of a man who caught a tell.
“Must have been my doppelgänger. She owes me money,” I say. He laughs again, and I redirect before he can circle back. “How’s the Davenport case going? Robert mentioned it’s been consuming the whole floor.”
He takes the bait, and we talk about the Davenport case. The whole time, my heart is hammering so hard I’m sure he can see my pulse jumping in my throat. He excuses himself to refill his wine, and his expression as he walks away is pleasant.
I’m still uneasy, but I think I fooled him.
