bustier, locked in her favorite black, fuzzy handcuffs, and letting out a hiss of bone-deep pleasure with every smack.
He smirked, but said nothing.
This should be easier. Didn’t all men want sex? Didn’t all men fantasize about their female friends? She bit her lower lip. How many nights had she indulged in dreams of Eric, conjuring images of them together from some strange and powerful need at her core? She inhaled deeply, summoning all her courage. To get what she wanted, she was going to have to be direct.
“So what do you think of Lisa and Ben?” Her tone was deceptively light. “I mean, I know what you think of them, but I just wondered what you thought of their lifestyle.”
Lifestyle . The word hung in the air, wafting between them like stale cigarette smoke. Desire hazed her vision, but her words left her heart naked and her longing exposed. Her pulse beat with the intensity of an 80s power ballad. She stroked his arm to its rhythm, silently willing him to understand, to unlock the need she believed was in him, a need that mirrored hers. She parted her lips in anticipation.
He tilted his head, showing his chin’s hard, even line. His gaze shifted from her face to her hand and back.
“I’d say if they’ve found happiness, well then, that’s rare enough, isn’t it? I don’t judge.” He spoke slowly, as if he were unsure of her opinion and choosing each word carefully. Boldness drew a smile on her lips.
“You know, Eric, sometimes I find myself just a little bit curious. I wonder what it’d be like to play like Lisa and Ben play.”
Her mouth dried. His arm tensed under her hand. He glanced to the side and surveyed the mostly empty diner.
She kept her gaze on him, knowing no one could hear them. She’d slipped a twenty to the hostess on the way in, just to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed. She held her breath until Eric’s dilating eyes returned to hers. The soft flesh between her breasts quivered.
“I suppose every couple is different,” he replied, betraying nothing.
“My fantasies make me hot. And…and I was wondering if,” breathe , “you would be interested in helping me fulfill a fantasy?”
He blinked a few times before clearing his throat.
“Are you asking…if I would…if you and I could…?” His eyebrows were high and his voice sounded low and gravelly.
She nodded, never breaking eye contact. She shivered from her spine down to her hips as Eric searched her face. She left herself open, tilting her chin. Emotions played on his features, thoughts she couldn’t hope to read and, if she were honest, didn’t really want to understand.
Of course, their situation was complicated. Of course, sex would change things. Those details didn’t concern her, not anymore. She would have him, even if she had him just for one night.
“Jillian, I—” He looked away.
“Don’t.” She gripped his arm.
He stiffened. Panic jolted in her belly. She let go.
Consent couldn’t be forced. She shoved her hands back under the table so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again.
“Eric,” she made her voice even and sure, “I don’t want any promises, really, I don’t. I don’t want to talk about the past or the future—not even next week or next month. I just need one night. I need this. It’s all I can think about, and,” she took a deep breath, “I think you want it, too.”
She’d done it. No matter what he said, things would never be the same.
She looked out across the diner, trying to give Eric time and privacy to think. She closed her eyes. Let him walk out. She did not have to watch.
Her heart jerked as the diner bench creaked. He settled in by her side. Rough heat radiated from his fingertips as he slid them, slowly and lightly, from her cheek to her chin. His knuckle touched the bottom of her chin and urged up her face.
She opened her eyes, and dropped her gaze away from his lingering reserve. A few dark hairs peeked out where his shirt lay open. She
He smirked, but said nothing.
This should be easier. Didn’t all men want sex? Didn’t all men fantasize about their female friends? She bit her lower lip. How many nights had she indulged in dreams of Eric, conjuring images of them together from some strange and powerful need at her core? She inhaled deeply, summoning all her courage. To get what she wanted, she was going to have to be direct.
“So what do you think of Lisa and Ben?” Her tone was deceptively light. “I mean, I know what you think of them, but I just wondered what you thought of their lifestyle.”
Lifestyle . The word hung in the air, wafting between them like stale cigarette smoke. Desire hazed her vision, but her words left her heart naked and her longing exposed. Her pulse beat with the intensity of an 80s power ballad. She stroked his arm to its rhythm, silently willing him to understand, to unlock the need she believed was in him, a need that mirrored hers. She parted her lips in anticipation.
He tilted his head, showing his chin’s hard, even line. His gaze shifted from her face to her hand and back.
“I’d say if they’ve found happiness, well then, that’s rare enough, isn’t it? I don’t judge.” He spoke slowly, as if he were unsure of her opinion and choosing each word carefully. Boldness drew a smile on her lips.
“You know, Eric, sometimes I find myself just a little bit curious. I wonder what it’d be like to play like Lisa and Ben play.”
Her mouth dried. His arm tensed under her hand. He glanced to the side and surveyed the mostly empty diner.
She kept her gaze on him, knowing no one could hear them. She’d slipped a twenty to the hostess on the way in, just to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed. She held her breath until Eric’s dilating eyes returned to hers. The soft flesh between her breasts quivered.
“I suppose every couple is different,” he replied, betraying nothing.
“My fantasies make me hot. And…and I was wondering if,” breathe , “you would be interested in helping me fulfill a fantasy?”
He blinked a few times before clearing his throat.
“Are you asking…if I would…if you and I could…?” His eyebrows were high and his voice sounded low and gravelly.
She nodded, never breaking eye contact. She shivered from her spine down to her hips as Eric searched her face. She left herself open, tilting her chin. Emotions played on his features, thoughts she couldn’t hope to read and, if she were honest, didn’t really want to understand.
Of course, their situation was complicated. Of course, sex would change things. Those details didn’t concern her, not anymore. She would have him, even if she had him just for one night.
“Jillian, I—” He looked away.
“Don’t.” She gripped his arm.
He stiffened. Panic jolted in her belly. She let go.
Consent couldn’t be forced. She shoved her hands back under the table so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again.
“Eric,” she made her voice even and sure, “I don’t want any promises, really, I don’t. I don’t want to talk about the past or the future—not even next week or next month. I just need one night. I need this. It’s all I can think about, and,” she took a deep breath, “I think you want it, too.”
She’d done it. No matter what he said, things would never be the same.
She looked out across the diner, trying to give Eric time and privacy to think. She closed her eyes. Let him walk out. She did not have to watch.
Her heart jerked as the diner bench creaked. He settled in by her side. Rough heat radiated from his fingertips as he slid them, slowly and lightly, from her cheek to her chin. His knuckle touched the bottom of her chin and urged up her face.
She opened her eyes, and dropped her gaze away from his lingering reserve. A few dark hairs peeked out where his shirt lay open. She
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