Chapter 1
Robert’s voice cuts through my daydream, and I realize I’ve been staring at my eggs for five minutes.
“Shannon?”
We’re eating breakfast at the kitchen table, and Robert pauses with his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. His gray eyes study me.
“Where’d you go?”
“The casino.” There’s no point in lying. “I keep thinking about what Adrian did.”
It’s been ten days since Adrian left me shaking on the storage room floor, and the man has taken up permanent residence inmy head. It’s not Tony who consumes my thoughts, because Tony gave me exactly what I asked for when he bent me over his desk, stuffed my panties in my mouth, and used me until I screamed. He sent me home with a mark that Robert traced with his fingers while I told him everything.
But Adrian denied me. He came on my face and walked out while I was still on my knees.
Ugh. I’ve touched myself three times this week imagining what he’d do to me if I went back. None of it helped. The pleasure was fine, but it wasn’t what I really wanted.
I keep picturing him looking down at me while he tells me I don’t get to come unless he says so.
Robert sets his mug down. He’s wearing sweats and a t-shirt because he plans to head to the gym shortly. Fifteen years of marriage, and he’s still the most handsome man I know with his distinguished silver hair and trim physique.
“Being denied turns you on,” he says, and it’s not a question.
God, I didn’t know how much it would turn me on. Being this wet over a guy who denied me seems insane.
“I’m obsessed with it. Or him. I don’t know which.”
He shifts in his chair, and I don’t need to look to know he’s hard.
His voice drops an octave. “Then go back.”
Heat pools between my legs so fast I squeeze my thighs together under the table. The yes is right there on my tongue, but I don’t want to seem too eager. I push my eggs around on my plate, twisting my wedding ring with my thumb.
“I mean it.” He holds my gaze. “Go. And when you come home, I’ll fuck you while you tell me every detail. Even if he edges you again, I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
Yep, that’s my messed-up, kinky husband. He wants me to get edged so he can be the one who gives me the orgasm when I’m desperate.
We’ve become something I don’t have a name for. The bored trophy wife who wandered into a seedy casino pretending she couldn’t cover her gambling losses. The husband who gets hard listening to what she did to “pay” them off.
“They might not be there if I just show up, and I don’t have Tony’s number.”
“So call the casino.”
He says it like it’s a simple solution, and I suppose it is. But if I call, that’s admitting that I’m aching for their cocks.
I’m not sure who I think I’m fooling.
Two hours later, I’m in my home office, pretending to read over the Wellington Foundation gala materials. I’ve read the same paragraph six times. All I can think about is being fucked by Tony or Adrian. My entire body aches, and at this point, I’d take either of their cocks. I’m not going to be picky.
I’m a filthy wife who can’t get enough.
Fuck it, I’m calling.
My fingers are dialing before I can talk myself out of it. The casino’s number is easy to find online.
A bored voice answers. “Goldpoint Casino.”
“I need to speak to Tony.” My voice doesn’t shake, which is a miracle considering my pussy is buzzing in anticipation. “He has something of mine.”
